Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [217]
"Lots of people coming and going, aye," Urist observed. "Not staying in one place. How far ahead of us is he? Weeks? Months?”
"Hard to say." Kinadius shrugged. "At a guess, two or three weeks.”
"And more if we backtrack." Urist scowled in thought. "I'm for trying our luck across the river." He glanced over at me. "Unless you disagree.”
I shook my head. "You're the tracker.”
Kinadius grinned. "It's good to have you back, Urist.”
With our course decided, we turned our attention to dinner, which consisted of cold biscuits purchased in Zoellen, and peas and salt pork simmered over the fire in a large kettle. I swabbed the inside of my wooden trencher with a hunk of biscuit, sopping up the last bit of stew, listening with regret and amusement as Deordivus described the meal he'd eaten at the Shahrizai hunting manor to the envy of Kinadius and his companions.
"What passed there in the City, my lord?" Kinadius asked me curiously. "I know Urist made Dorelei a promise to see you home, but I never understood why." His voice softened when he spoke Dorelei's name. Still, despite his feelings for her, he'd never shown any jealousy or animosity toward me. I glanced at him. He was a handsome young man, with a direct gaze and clean, bold features beneath his warrior's markings. And clever, too. They would have made a good pair, I thought, and guilt stopped my tongue.
"By the Boar!" Deordivus said. "I'll tell you, it was a hell of a scene I walked—”
"That's enough, boy!" Urist raised his voice. "Politics are a hard business," he continued in a quieter tone. "For Alba's sake, Lady Dorelei wed a man she barely knew, a stranger. And although he loved another, Prince Imriel did the same for Terre d'Ange. The lass wanted him to be happy, that's all.”
"Oh." Kinadius blinked. "I see.”
"I'm sorry," I said to him. "Truly sorry.”
"Don't suppose you could help it." A muscle in his cheek twitched. "Funny, I thought you'd come to care for Dorelei. Lug knows, she thought the world of you.”
I held his gaze. "I'm here, aren't I?”
"I suppose so," Kinadius said slowly. "So who is she?”
"Hah!" Urist gave a fierce, mirthless grin. "That's where it gets interesting. Would you rather I tell it?" he asked me, and I nodded.
It was better coming from Urist. He was one of them, Cruithne. He put it to Kinadius and his men the way he'd put it to me the night he'd given me the mannekin charm to destroy and cut my bindings. I was in love with the Cruarch's eldest daughter, the heir to Terre d'Ange. And Queen Ysandre reckoned I was good enough for Dorelei mab Breidaia, good enough to breed an heir for Alba, but not good enough for her own daughter. It stung their pride; and well it should. When all was said and done, Urist was right. I sat and listened, staring into the campfire.
When Urist had finished, the mood had eased. With Urist's indulgence, Deordivus told the tale of the scene he'd witnessed upon his arrival at the manor house, relating it with relish. There were more than a few chuckles. Kinadius came over to sit beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. For a time, neither of us spoke.
"I'm sorry," he said presently. "I didn't mean to judge you.”
"My thanks." I fiddled with a dry branch, breaking off bits and tossing them into the campfire. "You were right. I did come to love Dorelei. A great deal.”
"We all did." Kinadius propped an elbow on his knee and rested his chin on his fist, gazing into the crackling flames. "Remember the Day of Misrule? I've known Dorelei since we were children, and I don't think I'd ever seen her happier. I was, too. Gods and goddesses, I nearly pissed myself laughing at the sight of you wearing her kirtle.”
I smiled. "I remember.”
"I didn't expect that from a D'Angeline," he mused. "Didn't expect you to be willing to make a fool of yourself. Didn't expect you to care for Clunderry's honor.”
"Didn't expect much," I said wryly.
"I do now," Kinadius said. "We are going to catch this bastard, aren't we?”
I lifted my head and looked toward the northeast. Somewhere in the darkness beyond