Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [187]
She looked at me with amusement. “Play-acting with Alais when we were children. Lady Nicola, if you will forgive our state of considerable disarray, I would very much like to hear your news.”
Nicola L’Envers y Aragon was a diplomat’s wife—and like as not, twice the diplomat her husband was. She inclined her head. “Of course.”
So I ushered her inside, where she told us that Serafin and Ramiro had both come around to thinking it was worth risking a sortie and attempting to send a delegation to treat with the Euskerri.
“They’re willing to grant sovereignty to Euskerria?” Sidonie asked.
“If the Euskerri are willing to wage war on Carthage, yes,” Nicola said. “Ramiro thinks several of the southern counties might renege on their treaties with Astegal and rise up against him if we’re able to do this. And that if we don’t make the effort, Aragonia will be devoured piecemeal, Euskerria included. After long thought, Serafin has agreed.”
“What about General Liberio?” I asked.
Nicola spread her hands. “They’ll speak to him today. I’m afraid that’s one decision I stand no chance of influencing.”
“My lady, you might remind them . . .” Sidonie searched briefly, then came up with the book I’d procured for her yesterday. She flipped through it and found the place she wanted, passing the volume to Nicola. “Some centuries ago, Alfonso the Second sought to gain control of Euskerri territory,” she said. “His army outnumbered theirs ten to one, but the Euskerri harried his forces and drew them into the mountains where they suffered a terrible rate of attrition. The war went on for years and ended in a negotiated truce. But if there were a force ready to fall on the rearguard, as in Amílcar, the same tactics might be used to more immediate effect.”
“I’ll do that.” Nicola sounded a trifle startled.
“I didn’t know you’d such a head for battle,” I said to Sidonie.
She raked an impatient hand through her hair. “My mother assumed the throne and inherited a war. She never wanted either of her daughters to be utterly reliant on the wisdom of others.”
Gods, I loved her.
“I’ll do what I can.” Nicola rose, gazing at both of us, her expression complicated and unreadable. She gave her head a little shake. “Blessed Elua have mercy! Astegal of Carthage truly grasped the tiger by the tail when he sought to divide the two of you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” I reached for Sidonie’s hand without thinking.
Her fingers tightened on mine. “This is for all of us, my lady. Aragonia and Terre d’Ange, too.”
“Even if Liberio agrees, there will be others to be swayed,” Nicola warned her.
Sidonie nodded. “I know. Will they give me leave to address them again as an emissary of Terre d’Ange?”
“I believe so,” Nicola said. “But I’m not sure how much weight your words will carry, my dear. With Terre d’Ange divided against itself, you’re not in a position to promise anything with certitude.”
“Then I’ll have to be eloquent,” Sidonie said calmly.
“Very,” Nicola agreed.
The balance of the day passed without incident or further news. An assortment of clothing arrived for Sidonie, resolving the garment crisis. I accompanied her to the courtyard, where she sat in the sun for an hour, the stays of her bodice undone to expose her healing wound. She was quiet and withdrawn, thinking. I said nothing to disturb her thoughts. Diplomacy was her strong suit, not mine. If the council was to be swayed, the burden rested on her slender shoulders.
Afterward, she sent me on a quest to find a detailed map of Aragonia and paper, pen, and ink.
“Would you mind leaving me for a few hours, Imriel?” she asked apologetically when I’d returned with the items. “I need to compose my thoughts.”
“Of course.” I grinned. “Are you saying I’m a distraction?”
Sidonie eyed me. “Thoughts of unfinished business between us, yes.”
I laughed and kissed her. “I’ll go see how Kratos fares. I need to speak to Lady Nicola about making more permanent arrangements for him, and for Deimos and his men.”
I left her sitting cross-legged on the bed, her head bowed over a writing