Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [281]
The other part…
Death's Whore.
I shuddered at my memories. But Lucca wasn't Daršanga, and I wasn't sent by Blessed Elua to save anyone. It was just a city under siege, and I was a mortal man struggling to set aside his childish notions of heroism to save his own skin. Still, I thought, it would be cruel to reply with naught but silence. And with luck, on the morrow I would be gone. In time, Helena would find the healing she needed.
"I'd like to send a letter," I said. "Have you the means?"
Claudia inclined her head. "Lucius hasn't begun rationing stationery yet. I'll have paper and an inkpot delivered to your chambers."
I submerged myself in the chilly waters of the unheated bath, scouring away the stench of smoke that clung to my hair and skin. The water wasn't stagnant yet, but it would be before long. Lucca's drinking water came from its deep wells, but the aqueduct fed the baths and fountains, public and private. They'd all be stagnant soon.
Afterward, I scrubbed myself dry and dressed hastily, trying to beat the chill, then sat down and penned a letter to Helena Correggio. It was innocuous and impersonal. Using formal language, I thanked her for the invitation to call on her and tendered my regrets. I offered condolences for her losses and extended my best wishes for happier days to come.
I signed it with my full name.
It felt strange and I felt guilty. I wanted, very much, to get out of Lucca. It wasn't my city and it wasn't my battle. Gilot had already died for it; surely that was enough? There was Lucius and loyalty… but Master Piero had never told us how to answer questions of loyalty when one's boon comrade was possessed by the spirits of the dead. And there was the mystery of Canis, languishing in Lucca's gaol… but I hadn't asked for that, either. If he couldn't be bothered to be honest with me, why should I care?
Anyway, I could do more good outside Lucca's walls than within them. I thought about what Claudia had said. If the Unseen Guild could exert such influence, well and good. If they wanted my allegiance that badly, let them bargain for it on my terms. And if they didn't… when all was said and done, I was a D'Angeline Prince of the Blood and not without influence. For the first time in my life, I might as well use it.
Feeling better, I sealed the letter and gave it a Tadeii servant to deliver.
By the time I had finished, it was late afternoon and Eamonn and Brigitta were awake. The past night's events had cast a pall on their nuptials, but even so, it was clear they had taken Deccus Fulvius' advice. They'd taken happiness where they found it, and I couldn't begrudge them. In the salon of the guest wing, I told them what had transpired earlier today with the D'Angeline delegation.
Brigitta's face lit up when I told them, almost as bright as it had yesterday at her marriage. "You mean we might be free to leave?"
"Might," I said cautiously. Hope kills. "Might."
"Oh, Eamonn!" She kissed him. "You could come to Skaldia!"
"And you to Alba, my heart." He returned her kiss, then settled her head on his shoulder. "What do you reckon the odds, Imri?"
I shook my head. "I've no idea."
He stroked Brigitta's golden hair, and his grey-green eyes were thoughtful. "So who sent an urgent message to the D'Angeline ambassadress in Tiberium?"
Our eyes met over Brigitta's head.
"Does it matter?" I asked. "If it works, does it matter?"
Eamonn shrugged. "Not if it works." Planting a last kiss on Brigitta's temple, he swung himself upright. "Time for patrol!" he said cheerfully. "Mustn't disappoint Gallus Tadius."
After the hectic events of last night, tonight's patrol was mercifully uneventful. We assembled in the central square, and Gallus Tadius