Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [267]
"So many questions." Berlik tilted his head and gazed at the sky. "It's beautiful here, don't you think? Wilder than Alba." He looked back at me. "When first I fled," he mused, "there was no thought behind it, only horror at what I had done. It seemed to me that perhaps if I fled far enough, I could carry it away from my people.”
"And did you?" I asked.
"No," he said. "Not all of it. Only my death, freely offered, can make atonement. And only at your hands, for it was to you I swore the oath I broke." He was silent for a moment. "I would not have believed redemption was possible were it not for the Yeshuites. I broke an oath I swore on my diadh-anam. When I met them, I was a broken man.”
"And Yeshua healed you?" I asked coldly.
"Yes." Berlik smiled. "He made me believe that the gods themselves are capable of forgiveness. That mayhap the Brown Bear of the Maghuin Dhonn herself would forgive me for breaking my oath to save our people.”
My throat tightened. "Then why seek death?”
"Because it is the price," he said simply. "I am not a child of Yeshua ben Yosef. His sacrifice cannot pay the price for me.”
My arms were beginning to shake with the effort of holding the bow drawn. Berlik watched me without comment. I sighed and lowered the bow, although I kept the arrow nocked. "And yet you hung Yeshua's cross on your wall.”
"Yes." Berlik nodded. "To remind me." He was silent for a moment. "I do not know if it is presumptuous to call a god a friend, but if there is any god who would not mind, it is Yeshua ben Yosef. When Ethan first spoke of him, I thought it was a terrible thing to worship a god who let himself fall so low, who let himself be mocked and struck and hung to die like a criminal. But I came to see it. I came to see that he is the one god who understands what it is to fall low. That when every other face is turned away from you, he is the friend who is there, not only for the innocent, but for the guilty, too. For the thieves and murderers and oath-breakers alike, Yeshua is there.”
I wanted to weep. "It doesn't change anything.”
"It changed my heart," Berlik said. "And that is not a small thing." There was another heavy pause. "I prayed," he said. "I left a trail for you to follow, and I prayed that if you found me, the diadh-anam would accept my sacrifice as atonement, and not punish all of her people for my failure. When my magic returned to me, here in the woods, I knew it was so.”
"Did you have to make it so hard?" I asked wearily.
"Would you have come here with a humble heart if I had not?" he asked.
"Probably not," I said. "Would it have mattered?”
"It does to me," Berlik said gravely. "It is my death. And I would have you understand what it is you are here to do. You could not do that with a heart filled with nothing but anguish and hatred.”
I gave a short, bitter laugh. "So now I am here to do your bidding.”
"We were never enemies, Imriel de la Courcel," he said. "If I had the chance to live my life a second time, I would do many things differently. I would not be so proud in seeking to force the future into a shape of my liking. I would place greater trust in the providence of our ancient diadh-anam, and less in my own gifts. I would have forced Morwen to give back the mannekin." He smiled sadly. "You told her it was not wise to cross D'Angelines in matters of love, that your Elua disliked it. I did not think his will could prevail on Alban soil. There were so many threads, so many futures. We were frightened. She thought that if we could control you, if we could bind you with your own desire, we could alter our fate.”
I remembered the sorrow in his face. "You knew she was wrong.”
"I feared it," he said softly. "I was not sure. Enough to offer my oath and pray you took it in friendship and trust. Not enough to gainsay her. There was one path, one future …the child of both worlds, your child and hers, that could have brought a time of glory to Alba. That path, you refused. And in the end,