Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [276]
"Not really," I said honestly.
He shrugged again. "It's what he said.”
"Did he have word of Talorcan's party?" I asked.
"No," Maslin said. "And if any came later, I didn't stay to hear. I set out after you.”
It couldn't have been long after the captain of the guard in Tarkov had sent an emissary to Vralgrad that Maslin had arrived; but it had taken him a long time to find the village, having somehow thought it lay downriver along the Volkhov, and not inland. I had a hard time piecing it all together. In the end, it didn't matter. Maslin had reached Tarkov the day after I'd fled it. And they had seized him, reckoning him a second spy.
"So I lied," he said simply. "The captain of the guard found a fellow who spoke Caerdicci to translate. Some scholar. I do speak Caerdicci, you know. I told them you were a renegade, acting against the Queen's wishes. And that I was here to bring you to justice on her behalf. They wanted to find you, enough to send a couple of men. I promised to aid them.”
"So they let you join their quest?" I asked.
Maslin nodded. "They did. We got a long way off course and ended up weeks behind you. They were sure you were headed for Petrovik with the Tatar." He paused. "Why did you free him, anyway? That was stupid.”
"I know," I said shortly. "Did they find him?”
He shook his head. "I don't think so. He must have been canny in the early going. They finally found enough people who'd spotted him, and not you. That's when we turned back. He didn't matter the way you did. Just a boy, I heard. Not a spy, not like you. They were awfully mad about that. We went back, and we went east instead of south." His lips curled. "It didn't take long. The second village we encountered, they knew of you. Knew you'd asked directions for Miroslas. There was some woman who'd aided you.”
I glanced down at my mittened hands on the reins, smiling crookedly. "The widow.”
"Was she?" Maslin asked. "I only ever understood one word in five.”
"She was," I said.
"Oh." He was silent for a moment. Our mounts jogged together, side by side, in a slow trot. Gusts of frost rose from their nostrils. The third horse, the pack-horse, trailed behind us. "Well, after that, they didn't bother with the hunt. We went straight to Miroslas.”
"And the Rebbe sent you after me?" I asked softly.
"Is that what he's called?" Maslin shrugged. "I don't know. There was a fellow, an old fellow, with quite a beard. The Tarkovans talked to him. I don't know what they told him. All I gathered was that you had been there, and there was a horse, some horse, that had turned up without notice. We followed its tracks until it snowed. After that, it was all guesswork and the two of them arguing. The rest, you know.”
I plied him for news from home, of course, but he didn't know much. He'd left shortly after Deordivus had arrived with our news. It was strange to think how long ago that had been. It was still late summer in Terre d'Ange when he'd departed. Maslin's journey had been almost as long as mine had, albeit less fraught with peril.
There had been no sign of Phèdre and Joscelin, which was what I most longed to know. As for the rest, although Ysandre had agreed to bribing Adelmar, that was solely out of respect for Drustan, and had naught to do with any thawing of her feelings toward me. Relations between the Queen and her heir, Maslin reported, were strained.
"You do have a few adherents," he said. "Even in Phèdre's absence.”
"Such as?" I asked.
"Some of the younger gentry," he said. "Ones who don't remember your mother. House Shahrizai. House Mereliot." He smiled wryly. "And there's a rumor among the Palace Guard that Lord Amaury Trente told her majesty she was being stubborn. Of course, you have your detractors,