Kushiel's Dart - Jacqueline Carey [56]
The admiral coughed. "It is also. . . . rumored . . . that D'Angeline ships have sought a southwesterly route, and that the Cruithne and the Dalriada make for inhospitable landings. I do not think it is protection at sea they seek."
"Trade." Delaunay ran his finger absently around the rim of his glass, "Everyone desires trade. And it is a form of power, of freedom; the propagation of culture is the guarantor of immortality. How it must gall them, to look across the straits and see a world untouchable. And we, the jewel of the land, so close; so far. Do you never wonder why the Skaldi ever press our borders?" He looked up sharply, his wits in full stride. "No? We are marked, my friends, by the heritage of Blessed Elua and his Companions. We thrive, where other nations struggle. We live out our days in wine, song and abundance, nestled on the breast of this golden land, raising our sons and daughters to peerless beauty, and wonder, then, why we must defend our borders. We raise desire to an art form, and cry foul when it awakens its bloody echoes."
"We have raised more than desire to an art form," said the Comte de Somerville, and there was a grim reminder of steel in his voice. "We defend our borders."
"So we do," Quintilius Rousse agreed. "So we do."
There is a martial solemnity that follows this sort of proclamation; I heard it then, and I have heard it since. In its silence, Alcuin shook his head. "But the Master of the Straits has no interest in trade," he murmured. "So there is somewhat more to the matter."
I have said it before, that Alcuin's gift surpassed my own in the recollection of facts, the swift drawing of connections. I saw that night a faint surprise on Delaunay's face, in his parted lips; I understood, then, that in this one thing, this quicksilver intuition, the pupil indeed surpassed the master. But where Alcuin went deep, Delaunay went far-and always, he had knowledge he withheld from the rest of us. Some far-ranging conclusion was reached that night, for I watched his face as he came to it.
"No mind," he said then, and his voice was gay as he reached for his lyre, which he played as well as any gentleman and better than most. "Tonight the King dines with his blue-marqued peer and Ysandre de la Courcel, flower of the realm, shall teach a clubfoot barbarian Prince to dance the gavotte. Thelesis, my dear muse, will you give us the honor of a song?"
I think, of any of the guests, she knew best what he was about; still she obliged him, singing in her deep, thrilling voice. So passed my first night accepted as a nigh-adult member of Anafiel Delaunay's household. Caspar Trevalion left sober, while Quintilius Rousse drank deep and slept it off in Delaunay's guest chambers.
As for Alcuin, he took heed of Delaunay's nod at the end of things, and left that night with the Comte de Somerville. I do not think any contract was signed, but the Comte was gracious, and the next day an appointment was made with the marquist, to limn the base of Alcuin's marque where his spine melded into his delicate buttocks.
FIFTEEN
Delaunay went twice more to court during the visit of the Cruarch of Alba, and on these occasions he went alone, and there were no parties nor speculation afterward; if he learned anything further, he kept it to himself. The King of Terre d'Ange and the King of the Picts exchanged gifts and pleasantries, so far as anyone knew, and the Alban delegation rode back to the coast and sailed across the strait, accompanied by fair winds, sea birds and the apparent good will of the Master of the Straits.
Having renewed his fealty to House Courcel, the Comte de Somerville returned to his inland troops and his vast