Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [312]
"Corcan," I murmured. "Well met. What dream?”
"Ah, that! "His weathered brow furrowed. "'Twas your own …well, she's not your sister, is she? Not rightly. The lass, the Princess Alais. Her, and Drustan's sisters. The ladies Breidaia and Sibeal. What I heard, they all saw it. His lordship's ship with a bear's skull for a prow, bound for Alba. Green vines twining round the mast, and a lily blooming atop it." He shrugged. "Fanciful stuff, eh?”
"No," I said quietly. "It was a true dream.”
Corcan shrugged again. "Suppose it must have been. Any mind, we're here for you. Will it suit you to sail on the morrow?”
"Elua, yes!" I thanked him and rode slowly back to the inn. The Bastard, objecting to the rein, bridled and pranced, picking up his striped hooves and setting them down with deliberate care, making them ring on the cobbled streets.
There was a stable attached to the inn, and a bright-eyed young lad who looked no older than six waiting to take the Bastard; the innkeeper's son, I guessed. I thanked him and elected to do the honors myself. By the time I entered the inn, with my packs slung over one shoulder and the bag containing Berlik's skull dangling from my right hand, everyone was assembled and waiting. I found myself grinning. It had been a long time since I'd had a piece of sheer good fortune to share with anyone.
"Well?" Urist asked impatiently.
"It's true," I said. "Drustan sent the ship for us. We sail in the morning.”
The inn erupted in cheers; we all had need of a piece of good news. I explained about the dream and Hyacinthe spotting us in the sea-mirror when we drew near enough. Caught up in the excitement, the friendly innkeeper offered to stand a round of ale for everyone in the inn, although Joscelin soon persuaded him to let us bear the cost. We could afford it, now. It was good ale, too; strong and hearty.
"See?" Phèdre said complacently when the initial furor had died. "I told you we'd find a way.”
"I'd say the way found us this time," Joscelin observed.
She smiled at him. "It all amounts to the same thing in the end, doesn't it?”
Chapter Seventy
We set sail on the morrow. After a considerable amount of ale and a night's sleep, I nearly thought I'd dreamed the presence of the Cruarch's flagship and my encounter with its captain. But when we made our way to the harbor an hour or so past dawn, half-knackered mounts and all, the ship was still there. Alban sailors were making ready for the voyage, and Captain Corcan greeted us with a bow. With their aid, we got the horses and our gear loaded, and then ourselves.
When the scarlet sails unfurled to reveal the Black Boar, I nearly wept.
'Tis a strange thing, how one may remain strong in adversity, shoring up one's courage against fear. I hadn't realized I felt that way. We had been uneasy in Skaldia, reluctant to put any faith in Adelmar's sudden generosity, but that had proved genuine, albeit for reasons that were likely self-serving. Since crossing into the Flatlands, there had been no overt danger. We were a small company, but one with skilled and seasoned warriors in it. The Flatlands were relatively peaceable and held no animosity toward Alba or Terre d'Ange.
Still, it wasn't the same as being among friends and allies. As being safe.
And we were safe now. These waters lay under the aegis of the Master of the Straits, and he was watching over us. Whatever part of me had remained braced against unforeseen danger finally relaxed. I felt raw with relief and gratitude.
The feeling stayed with me throughout the day. We sailed southward in open water, between the coasts. The wind at our back was mild and steady, like a promise of Hyacinthe's assurance that we would come to no harm.
We wouldn't reach Bryn Gorrydum until well into the following day. By the time the