Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [283]
"Thus do we try," he said. "It should not strain your faith.”
"No," I said. "Blessed Elua would not object.”
"Blessed Elua," the Rebbe murmured, and shook his head. "You may go.”
I rose, and Maslin rose with me, stifling a yawn. No doubt he'd been bored out of his wits, and him already half dead for lack of sleep. Together, we departed Avraham ben David's presence; the two of us, the bright and the dark.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Our chamber was cold and the cots were hard. After the wilderness, it felt heavenly. Maslin and I didn't speak that night, only lay down and slept the sleep of the dead. By long force of habit, we woke before daybreak, and departed shortly thereafter.
As before, no one bade us farewell. This time, though, quite a few turned out to watch us go, including Tadeuz Vral's messenger, his scarlet livery a bright splash of color against all the somber black robes. It was a strange feeling.
"So what's that all about?" Maslin asked me.
I told him what the messenger had said upon seeing us, that our presence was a sign. And I told him about my conversation with the Rebbe. Maslin smiled a little at the notion of the pair of us as bright and dark angels, but what he said surprised me.
"Mayhap our coming is a sign, Imriel. Who knows? The gods use mortals to their own purposes.”
"A sign of what?" I asked. "The messenger didn't say.”
"Well, the Rebbe certainly had his ideas on how to interpret it." He glanced sidelong at me. "Surely you're not going to do it, are you?”
"Go to Tarkov?" I thought about it. "Yes.”
"Why?" Maslin stared at me in disbelief. "They might well throw you back in gaol, you know.”
"I don't think so," I said. "Not with Rebbe Avraham's blessing on me." I thought about it more as we rode. "I withheld the truth to pursue my own quest. I could have waited for word from Micah ben Ximon. Elua, if I'd waited long enough, you'd have come, and you might have told a different tale." I grinned at him. "My bright angel come to save me. Mayhap the pair of us could have convinced them.”
Maslin snorted. "Not likely.”
I shrugged. "Well, it's on the way.”
"For the spawn of a pair of traitors, you have a perversely stubborn sense of honor," he observed.
"My thanks," I said wryly.
We rode for a while without talking. "My father had a sense of honor," I said after a while. "Or so I'm told. It was just that it was misguided. That's how my mother was able to exploit him. He truly believed Terre d'Ange needed a pure-blooded D'Angeline heir.”
Maslin shot me a look. "Do you?”
"Elua, no!" I dropped the reins to spread my arms. "Maslin, look at me. Do you think I'd be here, avenging my Cruithne wife, if that's what I held paramount?”
His lips twitched. "Not likely, no." His voice changed. "Do you ever wish you could have known him? Your father? Just to know what he was truly like ?”
I picked up the reins. "I saw him once.”
"Your father?" He frowned. "I thought he died when you were a babe.”
"He did." I told him about the Feast of the Dead and how I had seen the spirit of my father riding beside me, old and sad. Sadder than anyone I'd ever seen, even Berlik. How I'd hoped, then, that he had gained wisdom and come to bless his half-Cruithne grandson in the womb. How I'd wondered later if he had known what was to come, and grieved at it. Maslin listened as I talked, his lips parted in wonder.
"I'd like to see my father," he mused. "I wonder how he'd look at me.”
"With pride, regret, and sorrow," I said. "Pride at what you've done. Regret at the fact he wasn't there to share it, never had a chance to acknowledge you as his child. Sorrow at the burden his legacy laid upon you.
Maslin shot me another look, wary. "You're serious?”
"I am," I said.
He fell silent for a time, his mouth a hard line. "Gods above, Imriel," he said at last in disgust. "You know, the last thing on earth I wanted was to like you.”
I laughed.
"It's not funny!”
"It is," I said softly. "Ah, Maslin! There was a time when I wanted, so badly, for you to like me. You were older. You seemed so sure of yourself. And there was