Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [282]
Not my fault. Not my responsibility.
We were given lanterns that night, as it was well and truly too dark to see without them. Eamonn and I traded ours back and forth, taking turns carrying it. Nothing was happening; everything was quiet. We chatted with the sentries atop the wall, who reported that the fields were still smoldering. One could see it at night, they said; the sullen glow of embers. The enemy remained where they were, encamped on the far side of the river. Gone, but within striking distance. The D'Angelines were there, yes, but no word.
So it went, around and around.
At dawn, I went to bed and dreamed of home.
It was another full day before the D'Angeline delegation returned. Every hour that passed seemed to drag into eternity. I was impatient; impatient at waiting, impatient at not knowing, impatient at being trapped in Lucca. The day wore on endlessly. I'd risen after a few hours of sleep and spent my time pacing the city, pestering the sentries for word. There was some activity at the river no one could make out, but the D'Angeline company showed no sign of movement.
Indeed, the only thing of note to occur that day was that I discovered Canis had been released. He was part of a group of conscripts laboring at the entrance of the aqueduct, hauling dirt and stones to reinforce its blockage, Gallus Tadius having determined it was a point of vulnerability. Rising water in the moat was trickling past the broken sluice gates and the millstone. Lucca's walls were too sturdy and well-defended to be easily breached by sappers, but if Valpetra was minded to try, that was the place he'd pick.
Canis sported a few fresh bruises and a red armband, already grimy from his labor. He gave me a covert grin when no one was looking. I had a nearly overpowering urge to grab him by the scruff of the neck and shake the truth out of him. Since it was highly unlikely to work, I merely shook my head at him and kept walking.
At least he was free of the gaol. Whatever else he was about, it was his own doing. I reckoned my conscience was clear on that score.
Another night.
Another endless round of patrolling.
This time, the distant sound of horns awoke me. Either Valpetra was launching a new attack or the D'Angelines were returning. I rolled out of bed and dragged on my boots and sword-belt without bothering to wait for word.
It was the D'Angeline delegation.
Gallus Tadius was already atop the wall engaged in a negotiation with Quentin LeClerc. I couldn't make out what they were saying and the guards wouldn't let me into the gatehouse until it was settled, which drove me half-mad. At length, one took pity on me.
"Your D'Angeline captain wants to enter the city," he said. "Seems he wants to talk to you in person."
Not for anything would Gallus Tadius open the gates of Lucca. It took the better part of an hour, with riders dashing back and forth to various sentry-points, before an accommodation was reached. The sentries confirmed that the bulk of Valpetra's army remained stationed across the river. The cavalry had taken up a position blocking the road almost a quarter of a league away. There they remained motionless. Gallus grudgingly agreed to lower a rope ladder and permit Quentin LeClerc and two men into Lucca, provided they came unarmed.
It was a considerable operation since the ladder had to stretch all the way across the moat, and by the time it was pegged into the ground, it was at a difficult angle. All I could hear were shouts and grunting, and a splash when someone fell off. I waited, breathing slowly and forcing myself to a state of composure.
At last, I caught a glimpse of Courcel blue. A pair