Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [86]
I clenched my right hand into a fist, feeling the ring's bite. Knowing Sidonie was somewhere behind me, watching. If she could be strong, I could, too. I squared my shoulders as I rode away from her, feeling her dwindling presence tug at me like a sea-anchor. I wanted to turn the Bastard and ride back, I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her in front of the Queen, the Cruarch, and the watching City, and let the consequences be damned.
But I didn't.
The first day was the hardest, and all the harder because everyone around me was glad-hearted. 'Tis a lonely business, being miserable when happiness abounds. I did my best to hide it, although the people who knew me well, knew. To my surprise, one of them was Dorelei.
She was the only one who spoke of it. We'd made the village of Hercule in L'Agnace by nightfall. Accommodations had been arranged for the peers among us at a local inn, along with a handful of soldiers. The rest made camp in a field on the outskirts of the village. Dorelei and I shared a private room, as did Phèdre and Joscelin, Eamonn and Brigitta.
Our room had a battered bronze mirror. Dorelei sat on a low stool before it, brushing her long black hair, watching me in the mirror. I sat cross-legged on the bed atop the thin counterpane, toying with Hugues' flute.
"Can you play it?" she asked, curious.
I lifted it to my lips and blew a few notes, soft and low, my fingertips dancing over the wooden holes.
"Oh!" Dorelei's face kindled. "How nice!”
I lowered the flute. "I played the shepherd's pipe when I was a boy.”
Her reflected features turned grave. "You don't speak of it often.”
"No." I shook my head. "Not often.”
"I'd listen, you know." Dorelei hesitated. "Do you…do you miss her, Imriel? Was it hard to leave her?" She hesitated again. "It is a her, is it not?”
"Would it matter?" I asked, my voice stony. She flinched, and I sighed. "Oh, Dorelei! I'm sorry. Yes, and yes. You did beseech me for honesty. I miss her, and it was hard." I patted the bed beside me. "Come here, I'll play for you." I didn't play well, but I could still carry a tune. I played a simple, lilting melody from my childhood, one of the songs all the children at the Sanctuary knew by heart.
Dorelei sat quietly, listening. " 'Tis a pretty tune," she said when I finished. "Are there words to it?”
"Oh, yes." I played the first measure, then sang for her. "Little goat, brown goat, with the crooked horn. Little goat, bad goat, eating all the corn. If you don't come away with me, I'll lock you in the paddock. Cook will come and chop you up, and stew you like a haddock.”
She laughed with delighted surprise. "That's terrible!”
I smiled. "I know. You shouldn't have asked.”
"Will you play it again?" Dorelei asked. I obliged, and she sang the chorus. She had a sweet voice, clear and true. I taught her the rest of the words and played it through. We were both laughing by the time it was over.
"Thank you," I said to her. "That was fun.”
" 'Twas your doing." She ducked her head with a shy smile and took my right hand in hers. Her slender fingers toyed, unthinking, with the gold knot of Sidonie's ring. It was more than I could bear, and I pulled my hand away gently. "I'm sorry." Dorelei glanced up at me, her wide eyes filled with sorrow and a sympathy I didn't deserve. "Will it be better in Alba, do you think?”
"I do," I said. "Truly.”
She kissed my cheek. "I hope so.”
After that night, I made a determined effort to master my mood. I sought to live from moment to moment, enjoying the camaraderie of the friends and loved ones who surrounded me, taking pleasure from Eamonn's gladness at going home after his long travail, from Phèdre and Joscelin's delight at embarking on adventure, albeit a small one. From Dorelei's happiness at returning to Alba, from the fierce earnestness with which Brigitta applied herself to her study of Alban languages.
All of us tried to help in her endeavor. We sang a great deal as we rode. With Eamonn's aid, Phèdre translated a handful of Skaldic hearth-songs into Eiran, and we sang those over and