Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [240]
From Iosef's replies, I gathered that Ravi had passed on the story I'd told him; that we were scouts sent by the Cruarch of Alba and the Queen of Terre d'Ange. I heard Micah ben Ximon's name mentioned several times.
The guards responded by berating Captain Iosef for his carelessness in allowing such potentially valuable persons to be shipwrecked, a charge he denied with angry vehemence. I made an effort to intervene.
"Not his fault," I said in crude Rus. I made a motion with one hand to indicate waves pitching. "Good man. Bad storm, very bad.”
The guards conferred, and one of them departed at a quick trot. The tallest offered me a crisp bow. "On behalf of Grand Prince Tadeuz Vral, I apologize," he said slowly and carefully. "We will escort you to the palace to meet with ben Ximon." He said something else I didn't quite understand.
"He's sent for a carriage for Urist," Ravi said helpfully.
I returned the guard's bow. "Spasiba," I said. "Thank you.”
It all happened very quickly. The carriage came in short order, the driver clad in crimson livery. Urist maneuvered cautiously down the loading plank on his crutches. The guards surrounded us respectfully, the tall one holding the carriage door open. We said awkward goodbyes to our shipmates, shaking hands all around.
"Come find me if you have a chance," Ravi said hopefully. "I'll be seeking cheap lodgings near the wharf until I ship out again. You can buy me a drink and tell me what Micah ben Ximon is like.”
"I'll try," I said, knowing it wasn't likely.
It felt strange to leave them. We'd been working together and sharing close quarters for so many days, sleeping cheek by jowl beneath our shelter. I helped Urist into the carriage, then went round to get in the other side. The tall guard bowed again, opening that door for me. I thanked him as he closed it and gave an order to the driver.
And like that, we were off, bound for the palace.
Urist shifted his splinted leg with both hands, grunting. "So," he said. "Exactly what are we going to tell this Micah ben Ximon?”
I gazed out the window, watching as we passed a Yeshuite temple; a vast affair of white marble. It sported multiple towers, each topped with a gilded dome, and atop each dome, a spire with a golden cross. It looked new and ambitious, and unlike any other Yeshuite temple I'd ever seen.
"I don't know," I said. "I truly don't.”
Chapter Fifty-One
As it transpired, we didn't have to tell Micah ben Ximon a great deal.
He already knew.
Urist and I were given fine quarters in the palace, with a sitting room and a pair of bedchambers. The tall guard, whose name was Havlik, assured me that word of our arrival would be sent to ben Ximon, who was understandably busy with the news of Fedor's escape. Doubtless he would see us soon. In the meantime, we were to rest after our ordeal. All our needs would be tended to.
Of a surety, that was true. We were given heavy robes and escorted to a bathing-chamber, where copper tubs were filled with water heated over a massive hearth. It felt unspeakably good to sink into warm water and scour myself clean. I pitied Urist, who had to settle for standing with one foot in a tub, his braced leg propped awkwardly outside it lest the splint grow sodden and warp as it dried, rubbing himself with a sponge and dripping onto the marble inlay.
By the time we returned to our quarters, there was a feast laid; meat jellies, roast goose, soft dumplings, and a boiled grain I didn't recognize. No wine, but there was beer. We ate until our bellies were groaning, while a steady stream of servants brought clothing for us to peruse. Once I'd finished eating and donned clean attire, I felt nearly human.
A Yeshuite chirurgeon came to examine Urist's leg. He poked and prodded, then complimented the job we'd done of splinting it and cautioned against removing the splint for at least another two weeks. I translated his comments