Kushiel's Mercy - Jacqueline Carey [60]
“Alais!” L’Envers said in surprise. “That slip of a girl?”
“She’s second in line for the throne,” I pointed out. “And she’s gained her majority; she turned eighteen last winter.”
“True,” he mused.
“She has the Master of the Straits’ ear,” I added. “If there’s anyone Drustan might listen to, it’s Hyacinthe. I’m sure he would help. He’s a deadly force unto himself, and he knows a good deal about magic. So do the ollamhs.” I thought about Berlik. “So do the Maghuin Dhonn, for that matter. It’s worth asking.”
“Anything else?” L’Envers asked, only slightly sardonic.
“Scour the Royal Archives,” I suggested. “The Secretary of the Presence will have recorded Parliament’s last session and . . . and the public audience wherein Ysandre bade me to bring my mother to justice if I truly wished to wed Sidonie. There has to be written evidence that casts doubt on Carthage’s claims and proves the truth. You can recruit scholars from outside the City to compile it.”
“While you sail off to Cythera to reunite with your mother and Carthage goes unchecked,” he said.
I spread my hands. “Do you have a better plan?”
“Unfortunately, no,” L’Envers muttered, rising to pace the room. “You have a point. At the least, it might stall Ysandre from sending the army against Aragonia without setting off a civil war. And there would be a legitimate heir on the throne.” He halted. “No pardon for Melisande. A pardon’s unacceptable.” A look of profound distaste crossed his features. “However, I suppose we could offer to commute her sentence to exile in exchange for Ptolemy Solon’s assistance.”
My heart leapt. “Then you’ll help me?”
“Gods, I must have lost my own wits.” His mouth twisted. “I swear to Blessed Elua, if you fail in this, if you prove false or a dupe, I will make it my life’s work to hunt you down and kill you.” His violet eyes were deadly serious. “No intrigue, no ploys. I will kill you and bear whatever punishment follows.”
I thought about Astegal in Jasmine House, his arms slung around a pair of adepts. Smiling as he emerged at dawn, heavy-lidded. I thought about Sidonie in his bed, ensorceled, spreading her thighs willingly for him, urging him into her. My muscles knotted, trembling with fury.
“Duc Barquiel,” I said in perfect sincerity, “if I fail in this, you’re more than welcome to kill me.”
He gave a curt nod. “What do you need?”
I told him. I didn’t need much. Money. My horse, my sword and vambraces, some supplies. Mostly I needed to get out of the City of Elua and to Marsilikos without someone sending guards to retrieve me for my own safety.
“Can you ride?” L’Envers asked pragmatically. “You look half-starved and weak as a day-old kitten.”
I shrugged. “I’ll manage.”
He snorted. “I’ll arrange for passage by barge. Think you can convince your keepers to let you make a healing-offering at Eisheth’s temple in three days?”
“I think so.” I smiled ruefully. “It’s not a bad idea, actually.”
“All right.” There was noise in the corridor outside L’Envers’ quarters. He turned his head. “Ah. That would be someone come to make sure I’ve not gutted you, I suspect. I’m surprised it took so long.” He put out his hand. “Eisheth’s temple, three days.”
I rose and took his hand. “Thank you, my lord.”
Barquiel L’Envers tightened his grip. “Just don’t fail.”
Fifteen
It wasn’t hard to convince Phèdre and Joscelin to take me to Eisheth’s temple; indeed, they thought it an excellent idea. I’d regained enough strength that Lelahiah Valais reckoned the outing would do me no harm, and Phèdre and Joscelin both thought it a hopeful sign that I realized I was yet in need of healing.
I felt awful about it.
I hated to betray their trust. As if I hadn’t reason enough to love them, they’d stood by me during my madness, tending me with care while I ranted and raved. The things I’d said were seared into my memory. And when I’d come out of it, they’d welcomed me back with heartbreaking joy, forgiving every word without a thought.
Now I was leaving.
I couldn’t see any way around it. I’d tried, over and over, to convince them of the truth about