Kushiel's Chosen - Jacqueline Carey [303]
That was the good news.
The bad news was that Principe Gregorio had received notice that a pair of D'Angeline riders had been found slain on the road slightly west of Pavento, apparently the victims of robbers. Although they had been stripped of their belongings and apparel, we knew them by description—Royal Couriers, the both of them.
Plans within plans and traps within traps; Melisande had anticipated well. No one bore word ahead of us save her hand-picked couriers.
And their lead had lengthened to a good five days.
SEVENTY-NINE
We left Pavento in haste, unburdened of wagons and carriages, pushing our mounts as fast as we dared go. In consultation with the Master of Horse, Lord Trente had determined that we were better off conserving our own animals than seeking fresh mounts for four hundred and some riders.
There was no longer any hope of averting treachery. Whatever would happen, would happen; Melisande's couriers would deliver word to Percy de Somerville well ahead of our return. If the Kritian ship had arrived safely, Roxanne de Mereliot had a full report of de Somerville's betrayal— what she could do about it, I could not say, save pass on my warning to Barquiel L'Envers and other known allies of the Queen, and mayhap begin preparing for war. Quintilius Rousse would lend his aid, but there was little enough the Navy could do on land.
It was no simple matter, for de Somerville held the Royal Army at his command, and was the sovereign Duc of L'Agnace as well. Without proof—and a considerable forceat their disposal—they could not arrest him out of hand. And if Ghislain was with him, it meant Azzalle was in rebellion. With Azzalle threatening Namarre's borders, Barquiel would have no support from his own province; indeed, with the news of Ysandre's death, he would find little aid forthcoming from any quarter. The City of Elua would be islanded in the heart of de Somerville's forces.
Of course, if the Kritian ship had not arrived, he would be dead.
The reality of the threat awaiting us upon our return had come home with the death of the two Royal Couriers. At best, we faced a nation on the brink of civil war. We made good speed across the Caerdicci peninsula during that wild journey, and a mood of grim determination united our company.
Many years later, I learned that there are stories still told of the ride of Ysandre de la Courcel's company along the old northern route in Caerdicca Unitas. It was in truth a sight to behold. The Queen's Guard wore gleaming armor with silver inlay, and surcoats of deep-blue with the swan insignia of House Courcel; a dozen and more pennants fluttered in the breeze above us, marking the noble Houses that rode with Ysandre, and the gold lily of Elua on a field of green above them all. 'Twas where we passed without pause that rumor grew, telling of a fell company with a dire light shining on their faces, riding fey and terrible without need for sustenance or sleep, and the beautiful Queen who led them ever onward, onward.
I daresay I laughed when I heard these tales; the commonfolk do not tell them where we made camp for the night, the Bursar bartering with shrewd farmers for use of their fields and streams while four hundred weary and saddle-sore D'Angeline soldiers waited impatiently for orders to dismount, cursing the packhorses milling about and fouling their lead-lines. And yet there is a truth to it, after all.
It took us a week's time to reach Milazza, and our supplies from Pavento held out long enough. Amaury Trente misliked our bypassing cities along the route, forsaking thepossibility of raising a Caerdicci army; that much was clear. He had great hopes of Milazza, which lies closest to the inland D'Angeline border of all the great city-states.
Ysandre remained adamant.
"No," she said