Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [229]
"Tell me what to do, love," I murmured. "Should I chose hope or safety?”
I tossed the coin into the air. It spun, shining in the ruddy light. I caught it in my right hand and slapped it down on the back of my left. Lifted my hand, peered at it, and saw the Queen's young profile.
Hope.
I raised my voice. "I'm going to Vralia.”
The Cruithne ceased their discussion and stared at me. "I'll go with you," Kinadius said after a brief pause.
Urist scratched his chin. "I reckon it's the prince's right to choose his companion.”
I met Urist's steady gaze. He didn't ask, and he didn't offer. He didn't need to. He'd made a promise to Dorelei, and he'd sworn that if I honored her last wish, he'd ride to the ends of the earth to get vengeance for her. "Right," I said. "Urist, let's go find this Flatlander wool-merchant and tell him he's got two more men riding with him.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
We left Maarten's Crossing in good order. The wool-merchant Ernst wasn't delighted by our presence, but he was willing to defer to Adelmar's wishes. The Skaldi escort Adelmar had provided him weren't happy either, but he was right, they were loyal. They tolerated us.
Urist's remaining men drew lots for their assignments. Two to intercept Talorcan, two to ride to the City of Elua. The rest would wait in Maarten's Crossing; at least to the best of my knowledge. Once we left, I wasn't entirely sure that Cailan, Domnach, Brun, and the older men wouldn't follow Berlik's trail.
It didn't matter now. I'd chosen my course.
I made Kinadius swear on Dorelei's name that he would wait for Talorcan and the others. He wasn't happy about it, but he did it, and I thought he would keep his word. With reluctance, I begged another favor of him. I traded mounts with him and left the Bastard in his keeping. I hated to part with him, but if I'd understood the wool-merchant correctly, the Vralian ship was a small one, unable to carry horses. I didn't trust the Skaldi to return him safely, and Kinadius' gelding was a good deal less valuable.
"What if you don't come back, Imriel?" Kinadius asked.
I leaned my brow against the Bastard's warm, speckled hide. "Just take care of him.”
Deordivus had once again drawn one of the short straws for Terre d'Ange. We weren't carrying paper and ink, and there was no time to write letters anyway. All I could do was entrust him with messages. For Phèdre and Joscelin, wherever they might be. For Sidonie. For Alais, Mavros.
"Tell them I love them," I said.
"That's all?" he asked.
I thought about it. "It's all that matters." He nodded and turned away. "Wait." I worked the knotted gold ring from my finger. "Give this to Sidonie. Tell her it's a pledge." My eyes stung. "That I'll be back to claim it.”
"Aye, my lord." Deordivus smiled a little. "That was a hell of a scene I walked into.”
I laughed and rubbed my eyes. "Elua willing, I'll live to cause others.”
So it was done.
There is little to relate of our journey to Norstock. It was only a day's ride overland, cutting across a peninsula through territory Adelmar held in reasonable security. Everyone was civil to us. There was no trouble. Norstock proved to be a small, bustling port. There was no trouble there, either. It wasn't just Skaldi; there were Flatlanders and other folk. Jutlanders and Götlanders, Ernst told us; northerners, folk who'd been isolated during the long years of hostility between Terre d'Ange and Skaldia, and the reign of the old Master of the Straits.
And Vralians.
They looked different from the other northerners, shaped from a different clay. By and large, they were darker than the fair northerners, black-haired or brown. It wasn't just that, though. The angle of their eyes was different, the way the skin stretched over their strong bones.
Our company located the Vralian ship in the harbor. It was small but sturdy, raised at stem and stern, with a flat bottom suited for a shallow draw. It sported a single square