Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [257]
"Yes," I said.
Brigitta closed her book. "I am sorry. He died bravely." She paused. "Shall I wake Eamonn?"
I wanted to say yes, but Gilot was gone, and waking Eamonn wouldn't bring him back. There was no reason for it except that I didn't want to be alone with my grief. "No," I said. "Let him sleep and tell him when he wakes."
"Yes," she said. "I will."
I left her stroking Eamonn's hair as he slept. She understood her fortune; another woman's beloved had died while hers yet lived. I daresay Brigitta would have endured it better. My heart ached at the thought of having to tell Anna, who had already loved and lost one man.
Since I had nowhere else to go, I returned to Gilot's chamber.
For the rest of the night, I kept Elua's vigil for him, kneeling on the marble floor. We were alone here, the two of us. We were strangers in Lucca. Eamonn and Brigitta had one another, Claudia had Deccus Fulvius, Lucius… well, Lucius had Gallus Tadius. Gilot was the only one who had come for me. And now he was gone.
I'd known him since I was thirteen years old. He'd been my present age when he joined Phèdre's service; eighteen and eager to make his name. He was the first to treat me as an equal—the only one. I smiled, remembering. At the time, I'd envied him the age of majority. Now Gilot at eighteen seemed younger, far younger, than I felt.
Elua, but I must have been a plague to him!
He'd endured it, though. My moody adolescence, my feckless young manhood. Endured it in good spirits, without complaint. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He'd grumbled incessantly for most of the time in Tiberium. It was fair, though. I'd given him cause, time and again.
I'd give anything to see him roll his eyes in disgust once more.
It was a piece of irony that Gilot had never known the truth about the danger I faced in Tiberium, the attempts on my life. And yet here in Lucca, where I thought I'd be safe, he'd done his duty to the utmost. He'd saved me, saved us all. And now he was dead.
I wished I hadn't let him go to the gatehouse.
I hadn't thought he'd stay. Or at least… No. I hadn't thought. That was the truth of it. Until Valpetra's men charged the gatehouse, I'd forgotten about Gilot. I'd been swept up in the fervor of the moment. I was responsible for him. I knew he was wounded. I should have seen to it that he was safely behind the lines. He wouldn't have liked it, but he would have gone if I'd ordered him on pain of dismissal.
Mayhap.
And yet if he had, the drawbridge would never have been raised. Valpetra's gambit might have succeeded, and many others might have died. I realized, that night, that I would never know. Gilot might have obeyed me; or not. He was loyal, but he was proud, too. He was Phèdre's man and sworn to protect me. Of a surety, he'd have been dead set against my mad charge to free Helena. After five years, he knew me well enough to guess what I was about. I'd never opened my heart to him the way I had to Eamonn. But he'd been my companion, day in and day out, for a long time.
You've got a wild streak in you, my prince.
Gilot would have guessed.
And he might have thwarted me and lived, or he might have died trying. Valpetra might have killed Helena Correggio in front of her father's eyes. It might have turned the tide against us. Lucca might have fallen. All of these things or none of them might have happened.
I would never know.
In the early light of dawn, I heard Eamonn's tread. I got up, my knees stiff and aching. Eamonn put his arm over my shoulders and together we gazed at Gilot. Only yesterday, I'd stood beside Lucius at the bier of Bartolomeo Ponzi. It seemed like longer, much longer.
"Slán agus, Gilot," Eamonn said softly. "Beannacht leat. "The Eiran words brought a lump to my throat. We were all so far from home. He gazed at Gilot a moment longer, then gave me a light shake. "Come on. You need to eat something, Imri. Let's go find the kitchen."
I shrugged. "I'll wait."
"For what? The embalmers?" Eamonn read my expression and sighed.
"I will stay with him," Brigitta offered from the doorway. She