Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [184]
Drustan regarded me in silence for a moment. "And for that, you forgive them?”
His voice was low and deadly. I wanted to shout or cry, I didn't know which. "No!" I found the strength to raise my arms, to press the heels of my hands against my eyes. I rocked, trying to blot out the visions. Burning groves, toppling stones. People, hunted, eyes stretched wide with terror. "Don't kill them all, my lord. Don't. They are forsworn, their strength is broken. I don't think most of them knew.”
"The magicians did," he said.
"Yes." I lifted my face from my hands. "And one is dead, and the other …yes. His name is Berlik." Something cold and hard settled into place inside me. "As I am Kushiel's scion, my lord, let mighty Kushiel bear witness. I swear to you, I will see Kushiel's justice done. I claim Berlik's death for myself. If Talorcan finds him, I beg leave to wield the blade that kills him. If Talorcan cannot find him, I will. I will not rest until he is dead.”
"And yet you plead clemency for the others?" he asked.
"For the innocent ones, yes." My burst of strength had faded, leaving me unspeakably weary. "I am a traitor's son, my lord. Should I be slain for it?”
Drustan looked away. "I will think on your words.”
"Thank you." I paused. "And Berlik?”
"Berlik." He smiled sourly. "The Master of the Straits cannot find the magician in his sea-mirror, and Talorcan has lost the bear's trail. How can one lose a bear's trail? Would that I'd sent Urist with him.”
"The bear is not always a bear," I murmured. "But I would have thought Urist would insist on going.”
"No." Drustan looked back at me. "Urist will be accompanying you, Imriel. By his own request and my order. Home, to Terre d'Ange. As soon as the chirurgeon pronounces you fit to travel.”
"Oh, no." I shook my head. "I'm staying.”
"You are not." His face was adamant. "Imriel de la Courcel, I will think on your words. And when Berlik is captured, I will think on your request. But you are still bound by the Maghuin Dhonn, and you will not be safe until you're no longer on Alban soil.”
"My lord!" I protested. " 'Tis a matter of honor.”
"Is it a matter of honor that no one around you is safe?" Drustan asked, his voice rising with helpless fury. "By the Boar, lad! Dorelei mab Breidaia is dead and your child with her. My sister is inconsolable. Who will be next? Alais?”
Sick with guilt, I didn't answer.
Drustan sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't blame you, Imriel. I blame myself. But you draw trouble like a flame draws the moth. I cannot afford the risk. You're going home. This is not a matter on which I will be swayed.”
"As my lord wills," I murmured.
It hurt; and yet he was right. While that damned talisman was still out there and Berlik at large, I wasn't safe. I didn't give a damn for my own safety, but his words had hit hard. There were others to think of. Others who might suffer Dorelei's fate.
Drustan might not blame me for it, but I did.
The days that followed were difficult. I don't think I could have endured them if it hadn't been for Alais. Betimes it would have been all too easy to sink into the black oblivion of utter despair. In the long, dark hours of night I would lie on my sickbed and think about dying, and the thought seemed sweet to me. It wouldn't be hard. All I had to do was resolve to refuse all food and will myself to die. I'd seen women do it in Daršanga. There, in the midst of hell, they had seemed tranquil. I wanted that peace.
But then, in the mornings, Alais would come, cajoling and pleading.
"You promised," she said. "You promised to try!”
It wasn't until the fourth or fifth day that I noticed somewhat amiss. "Where's Celeste?" I asked her. "Does the temple not permit dogs?”
Alais went quiet. "Do you remember that time with the boar?”
"Ah, no." My heart ached anew. "Oh, Alais!”
She wiped her eyes. "She tried