Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [102]
Sure enough, one burst from the sere grass, its powerful hind legs propelling it in mighty leaps. Alais gave the command I had taught her, and Celeste bounded to the chase.
It sowed chaos on the hunting field.
The hare doubled in a panic, zigging and zagging between riders and attendants. Celeste followed in hot pursuit, a tall lean shadow. At the same moment, a covey of partridge flushed from the underbrush. Horses shied in alarm, jolting their riders. Hawks bated, battening the air with their wings and straining at their jesses. Everyone was shouting; gentry, cadgers, guardsmen. I could hear Eamonn's loud whoop amid the clamor.
Alais and I laughed harder than we had since the Queen's harvest celebration in the apple orchard, laughing until our sides ached.
When it was over, Celeste had caught the hare. Alais gave the command for her return and she loped over to us, the hare's limp body drooping from her mighty jaws, blood beaded on its grey-brown fur. I dismounted and praised her as I took it from her.
"Poor thing," Alais murmured, regarding the hare.
" 'Tis a harsh sport," I agreed. An attendant come forward with a game-bag. With a deft move, he slit the hare's belly, tossing the entrails to Celeste. In Montrève, I'd have done it myself. "We needn't continue, if you'd rather not."
"No." Alais' chin rose. "I don't need to be coddled."
I sighed, putting one hand on her stirrup. The Bastard nudged me from behind, whuffling at my hair. "No, you don't. And I'm not. I'm just trying to be your friend, Alais."
"I know." Her violet eyes darkened. "You're not like him."
Following her gaze, I saw Maslin, who was in charge of the company of the Queen's Guard escorting this outing. Until now, I had managed to ignore that fact. Clad in his lieutenant's finery, he had dismounted to aid Sidonie; calming her mount, helping gentle the goshawk on her arm. Her head was bent toward him, her hair hiding her face in a golden curtain. The sight made my stomach give an unexpected lurch.
"Maslin of Lombelon?" I asked.
"I don't like him!" Alais said fiercely. "I know what you did for him, Imri. And he's not even grateful. He doesn't even care."
"He does," I said. The old guilt plucked at me. We were both born to treasonous parents, but he had suffered more than I for it, at least in those ways under mortal jurisdiction. At Court, that was all that mattered. "It's just… what I did wasn't enough." Alais fixed me with a hard look. "Oh, please!"
"I know, I know." I watched him with Sidonie. "Name of Elua! Tell me he's not thinking of courting her."
"No, not exactly." She shrugged. "But she likes him."
"Sidonie?"! asked, incredulous. "Why?"
Alais shrugged again. "I don't know. Because he's not like the others. He doesn't mince words or tell pretty lies. But I don't like him. He looks through me, and there's something cold in his eyes." Her mouth twisted. "I know what he sees. I'm too young. I'm not pretty, not like Sidonie. It's not my fault."
"That's not true." I gazed up at Alais. Her violet eyes were wide and vulnerable, fringed with sooty lashes, set in her awkward young face like twin jewels. "I think you're beautiful."
Color rose to her cheeks, and she scowled at me. "Don't lie to me!"
"I'm not." I smiled, seeing at once the whole of Alais—the clever, impulsive and open-hearted girl she had been, and the proud and prickly adolescent she was becoming. I could see the fault-lines in her, and it filled me with nothing but tenderness. Alais was young and insecure, and she struggled so hard not to let the whispers of Court bother her, not to be resentful of her older sister to whom so much seemed to come so easily. And yet she was fierce and loyal, too. No one would ever find it easy to exploit her faults, and I would gladly kill anyone who tried. "You are beautiful, Alais. Never believe otherwise."
"Thank you," she whispered.
Sitting on her haunches at my feet, Celeste beat her tail like a whip, grinning with bloodstained jaws. I laughed. "See, even Celeste agrees. And