Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [177]
"And Urist and his men would be there to keep watch," Dorelei said.
"So." I tightened my arms around her. "Is it decided?”
"Yes." She swallowed. "Are you frightened of what you might see?”
I shook my head. "All knowledge is worth having.”
So it was decided, right or wrong; and I felt better for having the decision made. Dorelei and I descended into the great hall together and informed our household of the decision. Everyone nodded gravely.
I pulled Urist aside to discuss the matter of an escort. We settled on three dozen men under his command, enough to encompass the ring of stones. It would leave the garrison short-handed, but Urist reckoned it was worth the risk.
"I fear the Old Ones more than a cattle-raid," he said grimly.
We had an early supper, keeping a wary eye on the lowering sun. I didn't eat much. I felt strange and lightheaded, drunk on the prospect of freedom. Ah, Elua! To face each new day without the eternal litany of checking my bindings, to be free of the damp, smothering blanket that lay over my soul, to be myself…
It would be glorious.
The sun was hanging low over the western woods when the ollamh Firdha cleared her throat and declared it was growing late. Urist had assembled his men. They were all ready, swords at their belts, hunting bows slung over their shoulders. I took arm, too. Dorelei insisted on doing it herself. Alais helped, kneeling to buckle my old rhinoceros-hide sword-belt around my waist.
"Be careful, Imri," she whispered.
"I will, villain." I kissed her cheek when she rose. "I'll be back before you know it.”
Alais sniffled. "Don't call me that!”
I extended my arms, and Dorelei slid the vambraces over my forearms, one after the other, taking care not to tangle my yarn bindings. "May all the gods of Alba and the diadh-anam of the Cullach Gorrym be with you," she murmured, buckling them in place. She looked up at me, her eyes bright with tears. "Oh, Imri! Come home safe and free.”
I hugged her, feeling the swell of her belly pressed between us. "I will, love," I promised. "I promise." I stooped, then, and kissed her belly. "Both of you.”
Dorelei laughed through her tears. "Keep your promise, Imriel de la Courcel!”
I straightened and smiled at her, bent to kiss her lips. "I always do.”
She clung to me for a moment, then let me go.
" 'Tis time," Urist said quietly.
I nodded. "Let's go.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Morwen was waiting at the edge of the woods. She took in the sight of Firdha and Urist and his men with a faint smile. "Ready, are you?”
"Yes," I said briefly.
She tilted her head. "Then come.”
We followed her into the woods in a procession echoing the Feast of the Dead, with a handful of Urist's men carrying torches. Morwen led it, swift and silent on her bare feet, needing no torch to light her way. The paths were still fairly clear, not yet overgrown. We passed through the oak grove, where she stooped and placed her hands on the earth, murmuring a prayer.
I wished I'd taken the time to visit Elua's shrine.
On and on we walked. Torchlight made the trees seem to shift and writhe. I found my ears straining at every sound. My nerves were strung taut as harp-strings and my bindings itched ferociously. By the time we reached the clearing, the moon had risen above the treeline. It was full and round as a coin, drenching the glade in silvery light. The standing stones seemed majestic and peaceful, casting stark black-on-dark shadows on the grass.
"Two things." Morwen faced me. "Before we begin, your men must extinguish their torches. And you may not enter the stone circle wearing steel.”
I frowned. "Why not?”
"Because that is the way the magic works," she said patiently.
"Let me hear you recite the Daughter of the Grove's oath," I said.
There was no trace of a smile on her face, no hint of mockery. "As you wish.”
Firdha led Morwen into the center of the standing stones, there beside the half-buried boulder where she had offered the uisghe. They spoke together, their voices low and indistinct, and then, to my surprise, Morwen bowed to