Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [211]
“My presence,” Sidonie said. “As your hostage.”
He colored slightly. “I would not use that word.”
“I would,” I said grimly.
There was another long exchange in Euskerri. “It is not so simple,” Janpier said. “Aragonia seeks this bargain because they are desperate, but they have betrayed us in the past. We long for our freedom, but the price is very high.” There was sympathy in his face. “It will take a very great gesture of good faith for us to accept this offer. That is what is required of you. Without it, we must decline.”
I rose from the table. “Then decline. We will be on our way and wish you well.” A pair of brawny men moved to block the door to the hall. I stared at Janpier. “You would refuse to grant us passage to Terre d’Ange?”
He shrugged in apology. “We do long for freedom.”
Sidonie made a strangled sound. “Ah, gods! Do I understand this aright? If we agree to accompany you, the Euskerri will take arms against Carthage’s army? And if we refuse, you will turn us away in spite? Despite the fact that it’s in your own best interests to let us pass?”
“Yes.” Janpier’s face hardened. “Who are you to tell us what is in our best interests? You led an army to our doorstep, highness. In the minds of my people, if you are not willing to do this thing, you have acted in bad faith and we would rather take our chances with Carthage.”
“Astegal will never grant you sovereignty,” she said. “Never.”
Janpier offered another stoic shrug. “Then we will fight him here in the mountains. Nothing will have changed but the enemy’s face.”
She raised her gaze to the rafters. “I begin to understand why Aragonia has been so reluctant to deal with the Euskerri.”
He nodded. “We are a proud and stubborn folk. Those are our terms.”
“There are other passes through the mountains,” I observed.
“Yes.” Janpier glanced at me. “All of which we hold, Prince Imriel.”
Sidonie steepled her fingers and bowed her head. I saw her chest rise and fall as she took a deep breath and composed herself. When she spoke, her voice was quiet and even. “Etxekojaun, I understand. Please understand that I, too, love my country. Imriel and I hold the key to her freedom. Grant us this compromise. I will accompany you willingly. But I pray you let Imriel continue onward to Terre d’Ange.”
“Sidonie . . .” I murmured.
She shook her head at me. “Don’t argue.”
It didn’t matter. The point was moot. Janpier translated her words for the others. There was a long, heated argument. At the end of it, he turned back to us. “No,” he said simply. “I am sorry, highness. If the decision were mine, I might grant your request. But there is anger and fear.”
“Anger and fear,” she echoed.
“Anger because twelve men have died already,” Janpier said soberly. “Anger at the thought that your kinsman, who is a valuable warrior, would refuse to share our risk while others died. Fear because your country is in the grip of strong magic. We do not doubt this, highness. We know such things in the mountains. I myself am afraid. I fear that if we allow your kinsman to pass, matters will worsen.”
“My lord.” Sidonie closed her eyes briefly. “We hold the key to undoing the spell.”
“Or unleashing war among your people,” Janpier said. “Can you swear it will not take that to accomplish your ends? Can you swear that it will not end with the army of Terre d’Ange arrayed against us?”
I felt sick.
Of course we couldn’t swear to it. We knew far too little of what had passed in Terre d’Ange since I left; and of what little we knew, none of it boded well. We had no idea if Barquiel L’Envers had succeeded in finding the demon-stone, no idea what transpired save that madness yet reigned, and Ysandre had declared Alais, her own daughter, in rebellion against the Crown.
“No,” Sidonie said quietly. “I cannot.”
Janpier nodded. “Then we shall deal with what is known and nothing else. We have Aragonia’s offer. You have our terms. In an hour, we will convene in the square. You will