Kushiel's Dart - Jacqueline Carey [187]
Our fear, while prudent, proved needless; we finished, and still the Allthing continued, no one coming for us. I gave Joscelin back his grey coat. He sat on his heels, working out the worst of the dirt and soot, while I scrubbed at the grime ground into my sleeves and skirts. I stole glances at him while I worked, taking solace in the haughty D'Angeline beauty I had first despised in him, the proud, provincial features and his clear, summer-blue eyes.
He must have been thinking along the same lines, for after a time he looked up at me. "You know, when I was assigned to attend you," he said softly, "I thought it was a punishment of some sort. I thought you were nothing but an expensive plaything for the worst of the scions of the Misguided."
"I was," I murmured bitterly. I touched Melisande's diamond. "I still am. Were I not, we wouldn't be here, and Delaunay and Alcuin would still be alive."
Joscelin shook his head, "if Melisande had one plan, she had others; I've no doubt she could have gotten the information elsewhere. It fell on you, that's all."
"And I let it. And Waldemar Selig will do the same." I leaned back against a barrel, closing my eyes. "And Elua help me, I'll welcome it when he does. While I eat my heart out with anguish, I'll prove to him a thousand times over exactly how debauched and yielding a D'Angeline whore can be, and I'll thank him for it when he's done."
I opened my eyes to see Joscelin blanch; he was enough of a Cassiline to look as sick as I felt at it. But his voice, when he spoke, was fierce. "Then do it," he said, "and live! And when he crosses onto D'Angeline soil and I'm there to meet him and plant ten inches of steel in his guts, I'll thank him for the pleasure of it."
It made me laugh; I don't know why, except for the absurdity of his oath, given our present circumstances. I can't explain it to one who has never been a captive. Sometimes absurdity is the only thing that keeps one sane. After a moment, Joscelin saw the humor of it and smiled wryly.
And then the bolt of the storeroom door was thrown back, and the White Brethren came for us. The Allthing was ended, and the Skaldi were ready to prepare for war.
FORTY-EIGHT
The news rioted through the Skaldi encampment and the fires burned long into the night, casting a flickering orange glow on the snow-covered mountainsides, while shouted war-songs and the clash of spears beaten on shields rose up to challenge the distant stars.
Waldemar Selig not only let them have their celebration, but opened the doors of his storerooms. Barrel after barrel of mead was rolled out-indeed, Joscelin and I would have had naught to stand on by morning-and hauled to distant tents by thanes staggering under the weight. I've no doubt Selig had planned for this day and laid provisions in store.
In the great hall, the celebrants were hand-picked among those leaders whom Selig judged key to his plans; he was careful, too, to include the steading's headwomen among them. Gunter, grinning like a boy, was among those chosen. He had made his mark with his gift of D'Angeline slaves, and his partnership with Kilberhaar-d'Aiglemort-was useful. He was not the only Skaldi chieftain to have raided for Kilberhaar's gold, but he was the most successful at it.
Hedwig was there, and excitement still flushed her cheeks, but there was a shadow on her too, that touched her when she glanced in my direction. For her kindness, I was grateful, but she had no words to speak against the invasion of my country, and that I could not forgive.
There was no hiding the news from us, and Selig made no effort to do so, secure in the belief that we had no knowledge of the details of his plan. He kept a close watch on Joscelin, who stood at his guard-position without expression, only his pallor betraying his