Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [111]
He folded his arms. "I do. Unless he gives cause.”
With that, we had to be content. Afterward, we visited the mound where Eamonn's uncle was buried. It was a simple grass-covered dome ringed round the base with a wall of stones. I was surprised to find there were no markers, nothing more elaborate.
"Why would it be needful?" Eamonn asked. "We know where he is.”
We climbed the gentle slope to the apex, where his uncle's head was entombed, facing toward the east where he'd fought the battle in which he died, far away across the Straits. Bringing forth a silver flask, Eamonn poured a libation of uisghe onto the ground. He handed it around and we all followed suit. Dorelei looked grave as a priestess, the amber liquid sparkling as she poured. Brigitta closed her eyes when her turn came, her lips moving in a silent prayer. It must be passing strange for her, I thought. For all any of us knew, it was one of her own kinsman had slain him.
When it was done, Eamonn sighed. "Rest easy in the Fair Lands, Uncle! May your spirit guard and protect us.”
"Do you think he is pleased?" Brigitta asked.
"I do." Eamonn smiled at her. "If I could not bring him the heads of his enemies, at least I've conquered Skaldia in a different way.”
Brigitta made to strike him with her open palm and he dodged, laughing. They chased one another down the side of the burial mound. Below, in the open meadow, Eamonn caught her about the waist and bore her to the ground. Brigitta landed atop him. She thumped his chest with the heel of his hand, then kissed him. They made a pretty picture, entwined amid the buttercup and clover blossoming in the meadow. I felt a pang of envy, but it was distant and muted.
"What are you thinking?" Dorelei asked curiously.
"I'm thinking his uncle wouldn't have minded," I said, taking her hand. "And that peace is a good deal more pleasant than war.”
The balance of the day passed uneventfully. Joscelin was engaged in helping Eamonn draft plans for his academy, but I spoke to Phèdre about accompanying them to visit Hyacinthe, explaining Dorelei's longing to see her own family, and she agreed readily.
"Poor child, I don't blame her. This must not be easy on her." Phèdre studied me. "What of you?”
I shrugged. "I'm fine.”
"You seem…" She drew her brows together in consternation, at a rare loss for words. "I don't know, love. You're taking this very calmly.”
I thought about it. "Do you remember what Joscelin said after we left Saba? When I was upset because you looked the way you did in Daršanga?" Phèdre shook her head. "It was later that night, when you thought I was asleep. You asked if it bothered him. He said you walking around with the Name of God in your head was just one more damned thing to get used to.”
"Elua!" She gave a startled laugh. "I'd forgotten that.”
"Well, that's how I feel." I touched the croonie-stone. "The Maghuin Dhonn, this …it's just all one more damned thing to get used to." I glanced toward the east, toward the distant Straits and faraway Terre d'Ange. "In a way, they may have done me a favor. You see, whatever it is that the ollamh did, I'm protected from my own desires." I lowered my voice. "Or at least my feelings for Sidonie.”
Phèdre was silent for a long moment. "I'm not so sure that's a good thing.”
"No?" I shrugged again. "Neither am I. But at the moment, I don't have a great deal of choice. So if a curse turns out to carry an unexpected blessing, I may as well enjoy it.”
We might have spoken further, but at that moment Mairead and Caolinn appeared. Like Joscelin, I'd kept up the practice of telling the hours on our journey, much to the bemusement of our Alban escort. The Lady's children had heard tales of our peculiar discipline and the Cassiline fighting-style and had come to beg me to importune Joscelin for a joint demonstration.
So I went to fetch him and he agreed, albeit with grumbling. Before supper was served, we put on a good show for them in the yard before the hall, in large part because Joscelin began to press me a good deal harder than was