Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [268]
She had chosen to learn to defend herself, that she might travel at the side of her beloved, Micah ben Ximon, when they followed Yeshua's prophecy and journeyed northward. In so doing, she had broken ties with her equally strong-willed mother, who had arranged a different marriage for her.
Sarae was not the first woman in her family to have thus defied her parents' wishes.
"My great-great-aunt Onit," she murmured, suddenly shy at speaking to so many attentive listeners, "ran away rather than marry a fat rag merchant, ran away and joined the Temple of Asherat-of-the-Sea. When she was very old, she came home to die. We children were not allowed to see herlest we be corrupted, but we would sneak into her room, to hear tales of the worship of the terrible goddess Asherat." Glancing around, she cleared her throat. "There is a balcony above the temple where the Oracle stands to give prophecy twice a year to the city entire, facing the altar and the people gathered below. Onit told us how it is staged, with an echo chamber to make her voice mighty and a bronze sheet that is rattled for the sound of thunder. We laughed, to think a goddess would need such tricks. There is a secret passageway, too, so it may seem that the Oracle vanishes without descending, while in truth it leads to a tunnel beneath the canals."
There was silence as we considered the implications, save for the murmur of Kazan translating her words into Illyrian for the benefit of his men.
"Where does the tunnel emerge?" Joscelin asked with reluctant interest.
She pushed her hair back from her face, frowning in thought. "To a warehouse, where some things are stored in winter; oil, dried goods and such. It was only to stay for a little while. When the Temple was empty, the Oracle would come back and descend the stairs. Only the priestesses and the temple eunuchs know about it. It would be lightly guarded, if at all."
"Joscelin," I said.
He looked at me. "No. Oh, no."
"It could work."
"In a temple," he said slowly, "full to bursting with Benedicte's and Marco Stregazza's supporters, with the likelihood of rioters breaking in the doors."
I shrugged. "There is an avenue of escape, and a great many folk present who are not their supporters, including Cesare Stregazza, who is still technically the Doge."
"You don't have any idea how they mean to kill Ysandre, do you?"
"No." I shook my head, recalling Melisande's words with regret. I had asked. You know enough. "A rioter, like as not. They'll seek to lay it at Ricciardo's doorstep, and get rid ofhim for good. I'm sure witnesses will be found to testify as much. It doesn't matter, Joscelin. If we're there, we stand a chance of preventing it. If we're not, she will die."
"It is a good plan, D'Angeline," Kazan remarked. "Better than storming the door, eh? If we die ..." he grinned, "... many Serenissimans will die with us, yes."
"He likes that idea, doesn't he?" Joscelin asked me, then turned resolutely to Sarae. "All right, then. Do you know where to find this warehouse?"
"Yes." Her voice was strained, her face pale and stubborn. "I will show you ... if you take us with you to fight at your side."
Joscelin swore and clutched at his tangled hair. "I said no!"
"It is not your choice, apostate," Micah said calmly. "It is ours."
Joscelin opened his mouth to protest again when Ti-Philippe interrupted him. "Joscelin, he's right; it's not our choice. Let them come if they will, and obey orders. They can ward the tunnel and safeguard our retreat. It's no more risk than La Dolorosa, and," he added, eyeing Micah, "I suspect you'd find them in the Square if you don't let them come. At least this way they'll be out of sight, and less likely to be arrested for bearing arms unlawfully."
In the end, there was nothing else for it. Once it was agreed, Sarae went willingly enough with Ti-Philippe