Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [208]
What he asked, I gave; I cannot help it.
And on the morrow, we sailed.
Once again, we assembled on the beach, and the old priest gave the blessing. We sailed at dawn, and I stood shivering a little in the rose-damask gown, a woolen cloak over my shoulders. All six ships would set forth on this venture. Marjopí was there, and fell wailing on Kazan's neck; he bore it better than I would have reckoned, until she began to berate the priest on his behalf. To me, she nodded a stoic farewell, and I daresay she was glad enough to see the last of me.
Glaukos would sail on our ship, and he was there, cheerful and smiling; his young wife had come too, and her sister. They bade me shy farewells, thanking me once more for the meager gift of fabric I had given, awestricken by the language I had acquired. I met their parents, who were a shepherd and wife, tongue-tied and staring, murmuring about Vili and thinking I did not understand.
At last it was done, and Volos, the boy who could talk to birds, handed me aboard Kazan's ship. I breathed deep of the scent of sun-warmed pine boards. Kazan gave the command to hoist anchor and it was done; the oars dipped and splashed in the morning light, and our prow turned, nosing outward.
Green water sluiced along the sides of the vessel and a brisk breeze plucked at our furled sails; Kazan gave the command, and his men leapt to obey, scrambling along the yard to unlash the sails. One, three, six ships a-sail... we were off, darting across the sunlit bay toward the narrow passage, and the charming village of Dobrek falling away behind us.
It was a different thing, this journey, from my first sojourn as Kazan Atrabiades' hostage. I had expected similar treatment, reckoning to stake out a place on deck and keep myself out of the way, but he accorded me instead the small cabin within the forecastle for my quarters. There he left me well enough alone, and I reckoned his anger at D'Angelines in general and the Lady of Marsilikos in particular had spilled over onto me. I understood much more of the Illyrian tongue by this time and Kazan's men did small kindnesses for me when his eye was not on them, but there was grim purposefulness to this journey, as opposed to the light-hearted, victorious spirit of the former.
For three days, we wended south down the Illyrian coast and the weather held fair. The long, shining summer was giving way at last to fall, but the seasons change late there and the days remained warm. I judged the time of year by the length of days, and wondered where Ysandre was now, making her progressus. Not far, I thought; she would likely have set forth by sail to Ditus, at the tip of Caerdicca Unitas, and would travel by land up the western coast before crossing inland to La Serenissima, seeing how the northern city-States held against the Skaldic border. Quintilius Rousse would have ample time to intervene. If he were canny—and I knew him for no fool—he would send word to Ysandre. With the D'Angeline fleet prepared to move by sea againstLa Serenissima, surely the city-states of Caerdicca Unitas would mobilize on land. Ysandre would arrive in La Serenissima with an army of allies at her back.
Percy de Somerville was the only danger. I'd not been able to think of a way to warn the Lord Admiral against him. Still, Rousse was unlikely to recruit the Royal Commander in this venture. No, I thought, he will send word to de Somerville, but only to alert him. Else, it would leave Terre d'Ange undefended, with the fleet away. Well and so, Percy de Somerville is no fool either. He will bow with the winds, and look to save his own hide. And if Ghislain is with him... Ghislain's troops and estates lie in Azzalle, he has Alba to contend with, and dares not risk the wrath of Drustan mab Necthana. And Barquiel L'Envers rules yet as regent in Ysandre's name, and commands forces of his own.
It would fall out well enough, I thought, and we had surprise on our side yet, for all that I'd lost weeks as Kazan's hostage.