Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [93]
I nodded. "Better, yes.”
"Good." She flashed another dimpled smile, filled with relief. "I thought so, too.”
We returned to camp without delay, delivering the grouse to Galan, the Cruithne warrior who had taken it upon himself to serve as chief cook for the royal contingent. He clucked his tongue approvingly, promising a fine luncheon of spit-roasted fowl. I caught Phèdre's gaze on me, wondering.
I felt guilty at it, and wasn't sure why.
And then Urist blew the summons, and we were off, riding across Alba.
Chapter Nineteen
Such was the pattern of our journey.
By day we travelled the taisgaidh paths under Urist's expert guidance, and I marveled that such vast expanses of hospitable land remained uninhabited. Betimes we caught sight of distant farms and villages, and once we intercepted a raiding party of Tarbh Cró warriors who fixed us with hard stares, but declined to violate the unwritten rules that governed the old ways. For the most part, northern Alba was a green gem, unspoiled and untrammeled.
By night, we sat around the campfire and talked.
Those were my favorite times.
"What do you think, Lady Phèdre?" Dorelei asked one night, greatly daring. "Should Master Hyacinthe pass on his knowledge?”
Phèdre was quiet for a long time, gazing at the crackling embers. If Joscelin had an opinion, he didn't voice it, choosing instead to regard her in silence. "I don't know," she said at length. "I truly don't.”
"All knowledge is worth having," I quoted. Joscelin smiled.
Phèdre didn't. "It's not the knowledge," she said slowly. "It's the power. 'Tis an unnatural thing for any mortal to wield. A dangerous thing.”
"You did, love," Joscelin reminded her softly. "You spoke the Name of God.”
"It was a gift, a gift given me for a purpose." She turned a troubled gaze on him. "An ancient wrong was redressed. 'Tis a different matter if one speaks of Hyacinthe choosing a successor so that Alba may continue to guard its shores.”
"True." He stroked her hair. "Mayhap there are other wrongs to set right.”
She smiled reluctantly. "I'd sooner there weren't.”
"I think it should end," Eamonn said firmly. "Lady Phèdre is right, it is too much power for one person to wield. If a sovereign becomes a tyrant, the people may rise up and overthrow him. What would happen if the Master of the Straits chose his successor poorly? Who could stand against him?”
"Is it worth leaving Alba undefended?" Dorelei asked. "Surely, Master Hyacinthe would choose wisely in such a grave matter.”
"And if he does not?" Brigitta asked, choosing her words with care. She was able to follow our conversations as long as we didn't go too swiftly, and preferred that we spoke Eiran or Cruithne to afford her the practice. "Or the next time, or the next? One day, Alba is maybe tyrant, bad tyrant. Like Tiberium." She shrugged. "Like Waldemar Selig tries. In Skaldi, he is a great man. You all make me think, maybe not. One day, it may be the same in Alba. Sea goes everywhere, rule all the seas. Everyone obeys.”
It made me smile to imagine tiny Alba ruling the world. And yet mayhap it wasn't so strange. Tiberium was only a city, and yet its empire had encompassed the whole of the Caerdicci peninsula, all of Terre d'Ange, large tracts of Aragonia and Skaldia. It had even reached Alba's shores.
Not so strange at all, really.
"Well, he couldn't rule all the seas," Joscelin said logically. "Hyacinthe's power has limits, does it not? And he cannot be vigilant in all places all the time.”
"A hundred leagues times three," Phèdre murmured. "And his sea-mirror is blind beyond the lands whose coasts border his demesne. Still…”
"Maybe he teach others," Brigitta suggested. "Masters take students.”
"A plague of Hyacinthes," Joscelin mused.
No one laughed. Phèdre accorded Brigitta a look of deep respect. "You make very good points, my lady. Every day, I comprehend more and more why Prince Eamonn was willing to risk so much to win your hand.”
Brigitta smiled shyly. "Old enemies, new friends.”
The journey wasn't