Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [148]
At any rate, he was eager to make a sale, eager enough that he treated me with more courtesy than most Aragonians I’d encountered in New Carthage, and eager enough that he gave me a good price. I daresay Astegal’s men weren’t doing much to keep the fellow in business.
So I bought the book, and then spent another hour wandering the streets and pondering what inscription I would write.
I returned to the palace to find it in an uproar.
Astegal was in a fury, shouting at Bodeshmun in the great hall. The Chief Horologist stood with folded arms and bore it, but his deep-set eyes glittered with rage of his own.
“I did my part,” Bodeshmun said ominously when Astegal finally paused to draw breath. “Why didn’t you forbid her?”
“Because she was compliant!” Astegal roared at him.
There was a considerable crowd gathered. I spotted Kratos’ hulking form and made my way to his side. “What’s happened?”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “Seems a short time ago, the princess took it in her head to go call on King Roderico.”
“—precious Amazigh should have stopped her!” Bodeshmun retorted.
“They’re not—” Astegal gritted his teeth. “No mind. The damage is done. And you”— he pointed at Bodeshmun—“you need to trot over there and fetch her back before it worsens, cousin.”
Bodeshmun went still. “Do not speak to me thusly, cousin.”
Astegal took a step toward him. “I’ll speak as I please.”
They were both big men, both dangerous men in different ways. We all went quiet as they faced off against one another. Astegal’s face was suffused with blood, his handsome features distorted. His hand hovered over his sword. Bodeshmun radiated dark, brooding rage. If Astegal moved against him, I thought, he’d best kill him quickly. Because if he didn’t, Bodeshmun would make him suffer. I didn’t know how, but I knew it would be unpleasant.
A faint voice broke the tension. “My lords, why do you quarrel?”
Astegal whirled. “Sidonie!”
She stood in the entrance to the great hall, four Amazigh flanking her. Her face was very pale, and she was unsteady on her feet. “Is somewhat amiss?”
“No.” Astegal strode to her side, the crowd parting for him. “I was frightened for you,” he said, cupping her face. “You shouldn’t have done that. I keep telling you, it isn’t safe yet. Are you all right?”
Sidonie shivered. “No.” She fixed her gaze on his face. Her eyes were like pools of darkness, wide and fearful. “I’m sorry. Astegal, you were right. Roderico’s mad. He said things, terrible things . . .”
“Hush.” Astegal unclasped his purple cloak and slid it solicitously over her shoulders. “I know. I kept trying to tell you. I’m sorry, my dear. I was trying to spare you that ugliness.”
“I know.” She shivered again. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. I think . . . I think I would like to lie down. I haven’t felt quite myself since the sunstroke. Do you mind?”
She was lying.
She was lying, and she was doing it so damnably well that I wanted to cheer and shower her with flowers. Oh, she was frightened and shaken, that was no act. And there was nothing she was doing to give herself away, not even anything a trained Guildsman could spot. But I could tell. I knew her.
Astegal steered her through the crowd, his hands on her shoulders. The Amazigh guards trailed behind them, looking as crestfallen as veiled warriors could under Bodeshmun’s withering glare. When their procession passed me, I bowed.
“Messire Maignard.” Sidonie paused long enough to give me a tremulous smile. “You were kind to me before when I was ill. Mayhap when I feel stronger, we’ll have another game. It seems chess calms my nerves.”
Behind her, Astegal gave me a curt nod.
“Of course.” I inclined my head. “As always, your highness, I am at your disposal.” Once again, I forced myself to adopt a tone of levity. “I shall hope and pray for your restored health, my lady. In the parlance of chess, I shall await your move.”
“Indeed,” she murmured. “Indeed.”
Fourty-Two
“Here you are, my lord.” Kratos dropped the ring into my hand.
I examined it. A simple band, a gold knot. To all