Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [191]
"That's all," he said.
I leaned forward. My wounds twinged. I jerked my hand. Wine and dirt and careless seed spattered. The fire flared and hissed. Smoke rose up the chimney.
"Throw the cup, too," Urist murmured.
I hurled it, hard. It burst into a dozen shards.
"Done." He plucked a knife from his belt. "Give me your hands. I'll cut the bindings.”
"Urist." I hesitated. "Do you know why Dorelei asked this of you? I don't ask for myself, not this time.”
He fixed me with his hard gaze. "She didn't say it in plain words, but I've an idea. You moped your way across this land at the outset, yearning for someone that wasn't her. I watched you, boy. You grieved the lass. She loved you despite it. And somehow, you managed to make yourself worthy of her. I wouldn't be here if you hadn't.”
"I tried," I whispered.
Urist gave me a curt nod. "She knew." He took my left hand, laying it palm-upward across his knees, wedging the point of his knife beneath the yarn. It was too soon, too sudden. I tried to withdraw my hand, struggling feebly. Name of Elua! I was weak.
"Urist!" I sharpened my voice. "She never told you who, did she?”
"Does it matter?" he asked.
"It will matter a great deal to the Cruarch of Alba and the Queen of Terre d'Ange." My voice broke. "A great deal, Urist.”
His mouth gaped. It looked very red in his blue-whorled face. He stared at me without speaking for a long moment, then closed his mouth and licked his lips. "The royal heir? Drustan's eldest?”
I nodded. "I love her. That's …that's how the bear-witch was able to bind me. That's what these bindings are protecting me from." I swallowed. "My feelings for her. And when you cut the bindings, I'll feel it again. All of it.”
He stared some more. "And Dorelei knew?”
"Yes." My eyes stung. "Dorelei knew.”
Urist took a deep breath. "I gave her my oath. This girl, does she love you?”
"I think so," I said. "But Urist…trust me, Queen Ysandre will not be pleased about this. What you unleash in me could set the entire realm at odds.”
"So you were good enough for the Cullach Gorrym, good enough to marry Dorelei mab Breidaia, good enough to beget Alba a successor, but not good enough for the Queen's daughter?" Urist's lips curled with scorn. The tip of his knife flicked upward. "Well, that's what I think of that, lad.”
The red yarn parted and fell.
Something in my heart opened. There wasn't the vast, inrushing swell of emotion I'd felt in Bryn Gorrydum when I'd removed the croonie-stone and read Sidonie's letter, nor the creeping, insidious tide I'd felt when the binding had broken the night of the cattle-raid. It was subtle, a sense of relief and ease, as though someone had removed a heavy pack I'd been carrying so long, I'd forgotten I bore it.
Something wrong in the world was righted.
I was free.
I took the knife from Urist's hand and cut the binding on my other wrist, then removed my boots and cut the bindings from my ankles. I held the yarn in my hand, remembering. You're like a parcel I can't unwrap, Dorelei had said. Consider it mere adornment, I'd told her. We'd made love in our narrow bed in Innisclan, laughing and hushing one another. I wondered if that was the time we'd gotten our son. I threw the yarn on the fire, then untangled the croonie-stone's thong from my torc and pulled it over my head. I put it in the pocket of my baggy breeches to keep for remembrance.
It was done.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
On the morrow, we set out for the City of Elua.
Bertran wanted to escort us himself, but the thought of travelling for days in his company made my head ache. I begged him instead to stay in Azzalle and give whatever aid he might to Kinadius and his men in their search for Berlik's trail, and at length, he agreed. He insisted I take a fine carriage belonging to House Trevalion, to which I acceded.
I hated travelling by carriage. It was fine for short excursions within the City, especially in winter, but in the warm spring weather, it was hot and stifling. D'Angeline roads are well laid, but no road is perfectly smooth, and I found