Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [217]
Brigitta was angry; angry at the rioters, angry at the Restorationists and the citizen assembly; angry at Master Piero.
"Why does he punish us?" she burst out one afternoon. "It is unfair!"
"Why do you assume it's a punishment?" Lucius asked mildly. "None of the masters are seeing their students." It had been Lucius who'd taken it upon himself to call upon Master Piero at his residence to ensure that he was well and wanted for nothing. I'd gained a new respect for him since the night of the riots, and not just because he had helped save my life. He seemed changed from the insouciant Caerdicci nobleman I'd first met.
Brigitta glared at him. "It's all right for you! I only have a short time here."
"Why is that?" I asked curiously. "Why can't you stay longer?"
"No reason you would understand," she muttered. "You're a man and free to do as you please."
I spread my hands. "Try me."
It was Eamonn who coaxed her to tell the tale; how, with her mother's aid, she had defied her father's wishes to come to Tiberium to study. She was a member of the Manni, a southern Skaldic tribe—they have a long history of dealing with the Caerdicci, and are reckoned among the most civilized of the Skaldi. Although of a surety, the Manni went to war alongside Waldemar Selig. I remember, Phèdre said it was one such who bore a letter from my mother to Selig. That was how she had uncovered the true depth of my mother's treachery.
Brigitta's father despised all things not of Skaldia, but her mother had a more pragmatic outlook. She was minded to see the future of their steading engaged in a broader discourse and trade with other nations. And so she had conspired to send her daughter to Tiberium, on the condition that she stay no longer than six months. Any longer and her brother Leidolf would be dispatched to fetch her back.
"Why did you want to come so badly?" I asked her.
"You ask a lot of questions." Brigitta fidgeted with her winecup, turning it in her hands. "Because I want to understand, D'Angeline." She looked up, a fierce light in her face. "Why things happen. Why we went to war. Why we lost. You don't know what it's like to grow up in the shadow of defeat. It's always there, always hanging over us. Why? Why are people the way they are?"
"Why, indeed?" Lucius murmured. "We are meant to be scholars, seekers after truth. And yet"—he gestured toward the door of the wineshop and the street beyond—"behold how swiftly we turned to violence."
"You didn't," Eamonn said helpfully. "You argued against it, Lucius."
"Oh, yes." He gave a wry smile. "Just before my opponent hurled me against the wall, Prince Barbarus. A most effective argument."
"There is honor in battle." Akil drained his cup, slamming it onto the table. His hawkish brows met in a scowl. "So my people believe, and I believe it, too. Even Master Piero acknowledges that honor is a virtue. Is it not so?"
"If the battle is honorable, of course," Eamonn offered. "But what if it is not?"
"And who decides?" Vernus added.
"Skaldia sought to better itself," Brigitta said hotly. "Waldemar Selig sought a better future for his people. Was that wrong? I say it was not. You may contest the means, but do you deny it was an honorable cause?"
Lucius waved a dismissive hand. "You can't separate the means from the cause, Brigitta. In theory, perhaps, but not in practice. We are dealing in realities here." His gaze lighted on me, keen and interested. "What do you say, Montrève?"
"I don't know," I said slowly. There was too much here, too much present at the table. And I knew too much. "I want to understand, too. Yes, the Skaldi were misguided. But…" I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "They were misled. Waldemar Selig was misled by those who preyed upon his desires, his ambition."