Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [205]
"You're a fool, girl." He pointed at me. "He's Melisande Shahrizai's son.
"I'm well aware of that." Sidonie's voice hardened. "Mayhap you forget, my lord, whence we come. My mother was raised under the shadow of being named a murderess' get, thanks to the intemperate actions of your own sister, who caused the death of my grandfather's first betrothed." Her gaze travelled around the room. "My lord Ghislain, you abjured the name Somerville after your father raised an army to seize the City. Your wife's mother and brother were executed for treason. No one rises to power with an unblemished heritage.”
"Yes, but—" L'Envers began.
"But what?" The word cracked like a whip. "You have offered Imriel nothing but mistrust from the day he arrived. And yet despite it, he has given nothing but loyalty to House Courcel. If there has been any hint of treason about him, it is because you put it there yourself, my lord.”
It was true, but no one had ever dared say it in public. Not even Ysandre. I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me. In the deafening silence that followed, Barquiel L'Envers turned purple with fury and humiliation. His fists knotted. Sidonie lifted her chin and stared defiantly at him, daring him to deny it. Only the quick pulse beating in the hollow of her throat gave any indication she was less than utterly fearless.
Elua, but I loved her.
L'Envers took a step toward her. Her guards shifted. Although he looked as though he tasted bile, Maslin de Lombelon stepped forward to confront his former patron, shaking his head. Ghislain nó Trevalion ordered everyone to stand down. My palms itched, and I wished I was armed.
What might have happened in that moment, I cannot say. Amidst the silence, there was a sound in the entry. It was a Cruithne warrior who broke the uneasy tableau, bursting into the hall. Deordivus; one of the young men who'd ridden with Kinadius. He was alone and travel-worn, spattered with mud, but there was a grin splitting his woad-stained face. Heedless of the gathered throng, he pushed his way through to me while D'Angeline peers stared, bemused, forgetting about L'Envers and his quarrel.
My heart beat hard in my breast, a steady drumbeat calling for justice.
"We found it." Deordivus' hands rose to grip my upper arms. His grimy fingers left marks on my sleeves. His grin widened. "We found the bear-witch's trail!”
Chapter Forty-Two
It took a while for matters to settle after Deordivus' arrival, but they did. A great deal of the credit was due to Ghislain nó Trevalion, though I paid scant heed to what transpired. All I know is that he managed to get L'Envers and his entourage to quit the manor house, withdrawing his own men to ensure their departure.
Before he left, he paused to bid me farewell. "Good hunting, Prince Imriel.”
I nodded, distracted. Mavros had procured maps from a study, and we were poring over them; Deordivus indicating the bridge where Berlik had been seen crossing from Azzalle into the Flatlands. A man, travelling in human form. I wondered if his shapechanging magic was leaving him as he travelled farther from Alban soil. "My thanks, Lord Ghislain.”
Ghislain rested a heavy hand on my shoulder. "What her highness said is true, you know. I don't presume to gauge your intentions here, but I'm not hypocrite enough to pass judgment on you based on your mother's actions. I wanted you to know it.”
I glanced up at him. Like his son Bertran, he had an open, honest face; but there was a shadow of knowledge behind his eyes that his son lacked. He knows, I thought. Bernadette must have confessed it to him. He knows that his wife sought to have me killed. "Thank you, my lord. I appreciate it.”
His grip tightened briefly. "May Kushiel's justice prevail in mercy and wisdom.”
With that, he left us.
Our plan was simple. Kinadius and his men were following Berlik's trail. Kinadius had sent Deordivus to bring the news to us and another fellow to Alba to alert Drustan and Talorcan. We would leave