Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [245]
"No," I said. "Because Lucius is my friend."
"Loyalty." Unexpectedly, it was Brigitta who spoke. She and Eamonn were sharing a couch, and she lay in the curve of his arm. If there was any doubt that they were lovers, it was gone now. They looked like a pair of basking hunting cats, the two of them. Her blue eyes narrowed. "Loyalty is a virtue."
Gilot sighed. "And duty? What of duty?"
"Master Piero did not speak overmuch of duty," Eamonn said thoughtfully.
"Master Piero!" Gilot's voice rose. "I am nearly sick unto death of Master Piero!"
"Gilot." I reached over to touch his arm. "Go, then. I would sooner you did. This is my choice, and I have to live with it. I need to stay, at least for a little while. But Anna is waiting for you; and Belinda, too. They need you more than I do. On the morrow, go."
"I can't," he muttered.
"Why?" I asked.
He laughed, although there wasn't much humor in it. "Loyalty."
In the end we retired to our chambers and slept, and nothing was decided. I slept alone for the first time in many months. It almost seemed strange to sleep in a proper bed and not a straw pallet, without Gilot snoring in my vicinity.
I awoke to find Claudia Fulvia in my bedchamber.
I sat bolt upright, reaching without thinking for my sword, which I'd laid in easy reach beside my bedside ere I slept. She stood in the doorway and watched without blinking as I pointed it at her. She looked very tired, and the shadows beneath her fox-brown eyes tugged at my sympathies.
"He's awake," she said. "And he's asking for you."
I rose without comment, donned a shirt and breeches, and followed her, padding barefoot through the villa.
At the doorway of the invalid's chamber, Claudia paused. "He seems to be himself," she said. "I don't know how long it will last." Her throat moved as she swallowed. "Be kind to him, will you? He's my brother."
I nodded. "I understand."
She touched my cheek. "Thank you."
I went inside. It was dim and smoky, and there were herbs I didn't recognize smoldering on the brazier. I coughed, waving my hand before my face.
"Montrève?" The figure on the bed stirred. "Is that you?"
"I don't know," I said. "Is that you?"
"Near enough." Lucius' voice held a familiar wry note. He propped himself upright against the pillows. "Sorry about trying to break your nose."
I sat on the edge of his bed. "You remember?"
"Yes." He gazed at me with disarming candor. "I'm scared. He'll be back, you know. All of this"—he gestured at the smoking braziers—"it's just a stopgap. He's still here" He touched his breastbone. "Inside me."
"I know," I said.
"You saw it, didn't you?" Lucius asked, and I nodded. "I'm not mad?"
"No." I shook my head. "I don't think so. Lucius, my cousin Alais had a dream, years ago. The women in the Cruarch's family dream true things, sometimes. She dreamed I was helping a man with two faces fight villains." I smiled, remembering. "I teased her about it. And I asked why, if the man was my friend. She told me, 'One of him was.'" I took his hand. "I suspect that would be you."
He smiled back at me. "You know, in a strange way, it's almost a relief. The worst possible thing has finally happened. I don't have to worry about it anymore."
"It's not over, though," I said.
"No." Lucius' smile twisted. "No, he'll be back. I can feel him, like some awful bubble inside me, and he'll push until I burst. And the damned thing of it is, I'm afraid we're going to need him."
"What?" I looked blankly at him.
An odd expression flickered across Lucius' face and his hand tensed on mine. Then it vanished, and he was still himself. "Montrève, listen." He squeezed my hand, then let it go. "I'm grateful for your friendship, truly, but you can't stay here. That's why I sent for you."
"I'm not leaving you like this," I said.
"You don't have a choice!" His voice rose. He took a deep breath and lowered it. "Montrève, I don't give a damn what your little cousin dreamed. Listen