Kushiel's Dart - Jacqueline Carey [149]
If I had, if I had said it, given the signale, I would have given her the rest. So I didn't.
And it didn't end. Not for a long time.
I remembered it all now, but I had stopped shaking. I carried the memory of it inside, like a cold stone in the center of me. Joscelin grew suddenly aware of the situation and awkward with it, giving my shoulders a brusque chafing and withdrawing his embrace. He didn't move far away, though; we had nothing here but each other. I watched him repress a shiver and silently unwrapped one of the blankets, handing it to him. He didn't refuse, but drew it around him and blew on his hands.
"So you don't know what's befallen us?" he asked eventually. I shook my head. "Well," he said resolutely, "let's see what we can learn." He blew once more on his hands to warm them, then pounded on the side of the cart and shouted. "Heya! You, outside! Stop the cart!" The wooden clapboards rattled under his assault; outside, I could hear the shuffle of riders, and a muttering. "Stop the cart, I say! Let us out!"
A tremendous blow from the other side shocked the boards. A quarterstaff or a mace, at least; Joscelin snatched his hands back, stung by the reverberation of the wood. Another fierce blow descended onto the taut canvas, landing on his shoulder with a dull thud. Grimacing, Joscelin rolled out of the way of a second blow.
"You in the cart, keep it down," a male voice said in a soldier's clipped tones, "or we'll beat you like badgers in a sack. Understood?"
Joscelin crouched low beneath the canvas, eyeing it warily as he tried to track the shadow of a weapon above him. "I am Joscelin Verreuil, son of the Chevalier Millard Verreuil of Siovale, member of the Cassiline Brotherhood, and you are holding me against my will," he called. "Do you understand that this is both heresy and a crime punishable by death?"
The weapon-a staff, by its reach-came down on the canvas again with another muffled thump. "Shut up, Cassiline! Next time, I aim for the girl."
I caught Joscelin's arm and shook my head at him as he opened his mouth to retort. "Don't," I murmured. "Don't make it worse. There are a dozen or more fully trained, armed and mounted soldiers out there. If you're going to play the hero, at least pick a moment when you're not outnumbered and trapped like a... like a badger in a sack."
Joscelin stared at me. "How do you reckon the odds?"
"Listen." I nodded around the cart. "Horses, and armor creaking. Four before and four aft, two on the sides, and I've heard at least two riding scout. And if they're under Melisande's orders, likely they're D'Aiglemort's men."
"D'Aiglemort?" He was still staring, but he had the sense to keep his voice low. "What's he to do with it?"
"I don't know." Cold, sick and weary, I huddled under my blankets. "But whatever it is, they're in it together. They brought down House Trevalion, and his men killed Delaunay and Alcuin. He bid for Ysandre's hand. I think he means to have the throne, one way or another. And if they're D'Aiglemort's men, you may be sure they're well-trained."
His face showed perplexity in the dim light. "I thought you were but a Servant of Naamah."
"Did you learn nothing of what we were about in Delaunay's house?" I asked bitterly. "Better if I was and had stayed in the Night Court, gone to Valerian to be a whipping-toy to ham-fisted tradesmen. Then Melisande Shahrizai would not have had me to use as her hunting dog, and flush out Delaunay's allies."
"Is that what happened?" He checked himself, shaking his head. "Phedre, you couldn't have known. Anafiel Delaunay should have, to use his bond-servants that way. It's not your fault."
"To blame or no," I said softly, "it doesn't matter. I was the cause. Delaunay is dead, and Alcuin too, who never harmed anyone in his life, and everyone else foolhardy enough to serve him. I caused it."
"Phedre . . ."
"It's getting darker."