Kushiel's Dart - Jacqueline Carey [332]
I have seen men take their death-wounds, and their faces looked much like d'Aiglemort's, contorted in a terrible rictus, as if hearing some dreadful jest. His eyes, blazing horribly in his stricken face, never left mine. I had gambled, and guessed aright. He'd not known of Melisande's betrayal.
"Melisande was in league with Selig?" he asked harshly.
"Yes, my lord. I saw a letter, in her own hand. I know it well. I ought to." I dared not take my eyes from his. "You would be well-advised to do her no more favors."
He turned away then with a curse, staring out over the valley, where his army was arrayed. Leather and steel creaked as the Alban forces shifted, waiting. Ghislain de Somerville stood as stolid as an oak, and with as much expression. Drustan watched, dark eyes thoughtful. Joscelin hovered at my elbow in Cassiline attentiveness, and I was glad of his presence.
What Isidore d'Aiglemort thought, I cannot guess.
"I am the sword you would plunge into Selig's heart," he said presently, not turning around.
"Yes, your grace." It was Ghislain who answered. "Camael's sword."
D'Aiglemort laughed humorlessly. "The betrayer of the nation turned its savior." He stood motionless, looking down at his army. A knot of men surrounded our three heralds, not to ward, but to listen, starved for news. They were D'Angelines alike, after all, and no one tells tales like a sailor, except perhaps for Tsingani and Mendacants. Faint snatches of sound and laughter rose from the valley, as Phedre's Boys sounded their marching-chant. Whip us till we're on the floor. . . "Will you feed them?" d'Aiglemort asked abruptly. "Ysandre cut off our supply-train, and sealed the doors of Camlach against us."
"We will," Ghislain said quietly.
D'Aiglemort turned around then and met his eyes. "What do you propose?"
"I propose that we unite our forces and mount an attack on Selig's army." Ghislain gave a faint, wry smile. "And strike as hard as we can for Waldemar Selig. No one's asking you to die alone, cousin."
"Selig is mine." The tone was calm, but the black eyes glittered. "Swear it, and I will grant what you ask."
"I swear," Ghislain de Somerville said, and his face grew stern. "Do you pledge your fealty to Ysandre de la Courcel, on Camael's honor, and in the name of Blessed Elua?"
"I'll pledge my loyalty to the destruction of Melisande Shahrizai," d'Aiglemort said in his harsh voice. Ghislain glanced at me. I touched the diamond at my throat and nodded.
It would do.
EIGHTY-FIVE
Descending into the valley to join d'Aiglemort's army was tense. I did not think he intended to betray his word-he couldn't break the Skaldi siege without our aid, any more than we could without his-but if he did, that would be the time to do it, when our forces were strung out in long winding lines, bringing down not only the men, but provisions, pack-mules, and the unwieldy war-chariots the Dalriada would not abandon.
I know Ghislain de Somerville and Drustan mab Necthana were both alert and wary to the possibility, remaining mounted and full-armed throughout the journey. Isidore d'Aiglemort, who had ridden bare-headed to meet us, watched with a hint of contempt. Guiding his mount effortlessly down the steep trail, he came alongside us.
"You were the Cassiline, weren't you?" he asked Joscelin. "I remember. Melisande's favor."
"Yes, my lord." Joscelin's tone was edged with bitterness. "I was the Cassiline. Joscelin Verreuil, formerly of the Cassiline Brotherhood."
"You're better off," d'Aiglemort said dryly. "Steel and faith are an unnatural mix. I'm impressed, though. I'd have thought slavery would kill a Cassiline. I'll want to hear, later, all you know of Waldemar Selig." Nudging his horse, he left us. Joscelin stared after him.
"If we didn't need him," he said savagely, "I swear, I'd put a knife in his heart! How can you possibly trust him?"
"He was a hero, once," I murmured. "Whatever else he may have been, he was that. If we succeed,