Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [282]
I looked sideways at Maslin, his pale hair bright in the firelight.
"A fanciful tale." Rebbe Avraham snorted. "One can smell that you are mortal, and in need of a bath. Still, here you are." He looked thoughtful. "Which is which, I wonder?”
"Neither," I said. "Why did you send the Tarkovans after me?”
"I feared you were dead," he said. "They said you were a spy. I did not believe it, but I did not believe you should kill Berlik, either. Nor did I believe your silent companion sought your life. I hoped, somehow, it all might be averted. In the end, I consigned it to Adonai's will.”
I sighed. "Well, then, it seems it was Adonai's will that two Tarkovan guards guilty of no crime save being too cursed stubborn and pig-headed to put down their swords and listen for one moment should die at my hand.”
He bowed his head. "Dire news. I am sorry.”
"You should be," I said. "You sent them.”
"I bear responsibility for my choice, as you do for yours." Avraham ben David lifted his head. "If you had acknowledged the truth of your quest in Tarkov, they would not have believed you a spy and sought your life. Child, I am sorry, but I face larger choices than those which concern you. A great victory has been won in Yeshua's name.”
"Fedor Vral?" I asked.
"The winter siege broke his followers' will," he said. "Lean and hungry, they opened the gates of Petrovik to Micah ben Ximon. Prince Fedor managed to flee beyond the mountains with a handful of Tatars, but his cause is all but lost. Ben Ximon did not even deem it worth the cost of pursuing him, not in winter. Thousands of his followers have deserted him." His old eyes were bright with strong emotion. "They are willing to acknowledge Yeshua as a portion of the terms of their surrender, and I do not know whether to rejoice or weep. Words spoken under duress do not suffice to change men's hearts. Grand Prince Tadeuz Vral sends a messenger asking me to come to Vralgrad to counsel him, and I do not know whether to stay or go.”
I was silent, abashed.
While I had been engaged in my single-minded, solitary pursuit, a war had been waged and won. The fate of a nation had hung in the balance and shifted.
"Who is the Yeshua ben Yosef who holds sway in Vralia?" the Rebbe mused. "The friend who is there for the lost and lonely soul, or the warrior whose banner led Tadeuz Vral to this second victory? I do not know. And I am afraid.”
"I understand," I said humbly. "I would help if I could.”
"Perhaps you have." He drew a deep breath and gazed around the room. "You remind me that my choices affect lives. It is not enough to trust to Adonai's will. Our minds, our tongues, our hands are his tools. I will think on it, and pray." He nodded. "I thank you for coming to bring me this news yourself. Not all men would have done so.”
"You cared for him," I said. "I wanted you to know that in the end, his death was peaceful. It wasn't what you wanted for him, but he was glad.”
"And the Tarkovans?" the Rebbe asked. I didn't answer. His wise old gaze sharpened. "For the sake of the guilt we both bear, I'll make you a bargain, lad. Go to Tarkov to made amends. Tell them what befell their sons, brothers, and husbands. Tell them you have confessed it to me, and I have absolved you of all guilt and laid my blessing upon you, bidding you to spread the word among men that it is better to be filled with compassion than suspicion, and remind them that in the end, in Yeshua's kingdom, all men are brothers. That your coming is a sign all must be mindful of this, always and forever.”
"Thus do we shape the world, Father?" I asked.