Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [242]
"Including murderers?" I asked.
"Anyone," he said.
"This is a matter of justice." I held his gaze. "My lord, the man we seek is guilty. I daresay he would admit it himself if we found him. If nothing else, I ask only the right to escort him back to Alba where he might be tried for his crime.”
Micah ben Ximon shook his head. "Vral will not allow it.”
"Then I will seek justice on my own terms," I said.
His lips curved. "I would expect such persistence from Joscelin Verreuil's foster-son." He paused. "I'm sorry. You must have loved your wife very much.”
My jaw tensed. "Not as much as she deserved.”
"Ah." He nodded. "Vengeance and guilt. A powerful mix.”
"She was carrying our child," I said. "Nearly full term. She was the niece of the Cruarch of Alba. If our son had lived, he would have been Alba's eventual heir.”
Another complicated emotion crossed ben Ximon's face. "I'm sorry," he repeated. He returned to take his seat, steepling his fingers and thinking. "But even so, I cannot give you aid or sanction," he said slowly. "And if you are caught, I cannot promise protection. I can only advise you to be careful. Tadeuz Vral is distracted by his brother's escape. They have been at odds for some years now. If my men do not catch Fedor before he reaches a stronghold—and I doubt they will, since it is rumored there were Tatar tribesmen with swift mounts awaiting him outside the city walls—there may be once again be war in Vralia.”
"Yeshua's victory proved short-lived," I observed.
"It's the damned Tatars," ben Ximon said.
It wasn't a sentiment with which I could disagree. "Why do they support Fedor Vral?”
"He admires them," he said. "Prince Fedor is willing to promise the khans eternal rights to vast tracts of grazing land. To keep them free of pilgrim settlements. To bribe the tribes to leave the eastern trade routes alone.”
"And Tadeuz isn't?" I asked.
"No." Micah ben Ximon regarded me. "His head is full of prophecy. He believes that God has chosen him to be the rock on which a new kingdom is founded, and that I am his strong right hand, his sword to carve out a path for Yeshua's return. The first step is conquering or converting Fedor's loyalists and the Tatars. He will not treat with them in any other way.”
"What do you believe?”
He shrugged. "Eight years ago, when Tadeuz Vral sent for me, my soul was on fire. I handed him a victory. I saw his heart change and the light of true faith shine from his face. I believed what he believed. Now…" He paused. "Already, the face of my people's faith is changing. In a generation's time, it may become unrecognizable. Perhaps it is Yeshua's will. I no longer know what I believe.”
We spoke for a while longer, and I translated his words for Urist. In the end, it was agreed that we should stick to the tale I'd concocted. We were adventurers, sent to scout out the prospects in Vralia; Urist as one of the Cruarch's trusted commanders, and me as a young D'Angeline nobleman whose family had known Micah ben Ximon long ago. Ben Ximon was willing to vouch for us that far, at least.
Due to his injury, Urist would remain at the palace while I explored the land and verified with my own eyes the existence of the fabled river trade routes of Vralia.
And hunted for Berlik.
If I was caught, ben Ximon warned me, he would disavow any knowledge of my true purpose. He might be able to intervene with Tadeuz Vral and save me; or not. He made no promises. Vral was unpredictable.
"Fair enough," I said. "It's more than I expected." I paused. "Why?”
"You remind me of him," he said. "A little bit, anyway.”
"Tadeuz Vral?”
"Joscelin." Micah ben Ximon smiled, a real smile. "Single-minded and stubborn as hell." His smile turned wistful, and for the