Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [269]
Eamonn.
Brigitta.
Elua help me, whether I liked it or no, they loved one another. It shone forth between them, as steady as a well-made lamp, as sure as a pair of joined hands. I lifted my cup, filled with cool well-water. "Need you ask?" I said lightly. "I am D'Angeline. When all is said and done, there is but one tenet to which we adhere." I hoisted my cup to them. "Love as thou wilt."
So it was decided.
Having seized upon the notion, Beatrice set about implementing it in all haste, deciding that the celebration should take place on the morrow. In truth, there was little point in delaying. None of us knew what the morrow would bring. Lucca was holding strong under Gallus Tadius' leadership and looked likely to do so for weeks on end, but even so, war was an uncertain business.
I left them to their plans and went to seek out the gaol.
It was a squat, solid building near the basilica with lodging for the guards on the main floor and a single great dungeon-chamber below. A lone guard stood duty; the rest were posted elsewhere. When I remarked on it, he shrugged.
"There's no one down there but the Valpetrans and the deaf-mute. Gallus Tadius freed the rest."
"He did?" I asked. "Why?"
"Well, he gave 'em a choice, anyway. A red armband or a hemp necklace." He chuckled. "None of 'em chose the noose over the Red Scourge. Anyway, you want to get a few licks in on the deaf-mute, go ahead. From what I heard, I reckon you owe him." He plucked a ring of keys from a stand and unlocked the door to admit me, then kindled a lantern. "Here, you'll need this. Bang on the door when you're done, and I'll let you out."
It was unnerving to hear the heavy wooden door slam shut behind me, the key turning in the lock. The stairs led down into darkness and a fetid odor. The dank smell of my hair. I stood for a moment, willing my heartbeat to slow, then descended the stairs.
"Canis?" I lifted the lantern.
It illuminated a vast open space. There were chains along the wall, enough to hold several dozen prisoners. There were only four, though. Three of them lifted their heads, wary eyes glittering in the lantern's glow. The fourth was sitting cross-legged, watching me, a calm expression on his battered face.
"Canis!" I crouched beside him. "What in the seven hells are you doing here?"
He didn't answer.
"Dog." One of the Valpetrans gave a wheezing chuckle. "Good one, D'Angeline. But Dog don't talk. Didn't even make a sound when they beat him."
Sitting back on my heels, I regarded Canis with frustration. He returned my gaze with implacable calm. I wanted to shake him, to squeeze answers out of him as surely as I'd squeezed the breath from his lungs. But as long as Gallus Tadius believed him a simple deaf-mute seeking the safety of the city walls, there was a good chance he'd be offered the same bargain in time—the Red Scourge or the noose. I'd already been careless, calling him by name. If it had been any other name, we might both be in trouble.
I sighed. "In Elua's name, I swear… one day, Canis, we'll have this out."
He bowed his head, scrabbling in the loose, filthy straw of the gaol floor with one hand. The chain shackled to his wrist clanked. At least the chains were long enough to allow the prisoners a measure of ease.
In the pleasure-dungeons of Valerian House, they were a good deal shorter. I smiled wryly at the thought. Canis tapped the stone floor with one grimy fingernail, rhythmic and insistent. Glancing down, I saw that he'd arranged stalks of straw into letters, spelling out two words.
Hit me.
"No," I said involuntarily.
He tapped the floor again, raising his chin. Hit me.
The other prisoners were watching with interest.
And why not? They had nothing else to do. Valpetrans, we called them out of convenience; but they weren't. They were mercenaries hired by Valpetra. If they were loyal to anyone, it was their condottiere. And like as not, any one of them would sell Canis short for an extra ration of food. Why I was trying to protect