Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [321]
The embalmers came with Gilot's body in a casket, having completed the long process of preservation. They had kept him safe during the floods, for which I was grateful. He was given a place of honor in the Tadeii mausoleum while Quentin LeClerc made arrangements to procure a wagon to transport the casket. I meant to keep my word and bring Gilot home.
Canis was buried in the Luccan graveyard. I commissioned a stele from a stonecarver's shop to mark the site, although it would be a long time before it was finished. The carver had been a member of Stone squadron. He'd reckoned the name would prove lucky for him, and I suppose it had, since he had survived. I didn't tell him why I wanted the stele and he didn't ask. He promised on the honor of the Red Scourge to see it installed properly. We clasped hands on the deal.
I visited Canis' gravesite.
There wasn't much to see; only a mound of raw earth, one of over a hundred, each marked with a crude identifier. For Canis, it was the javelin that had killed him, thrust into the damp soil. I stood there for a long time, not knowing what to say. A priest had performed the rites for all of the dead, but I didn't even know what gods Canis had prayed to.
Your mother sends her love.
My mother, my beautiful, treacherous mother. Canis had been her dog, her faithful hound. And he'd been good at his job. I'd even been fond of him for a time. I smiled a little, remembering the bright-eyed beggar in his stinking barrel.
"Peace, my friend," I said, pouring out wine from a flask I'd brought. "May your journey bring you wisdom."
Since I didn't know his country or his gods, I prayed to mine. I prayed as I had in the embassy garden, and although I had only wine to offer, I conjured the scent of incense in my mind and offered prayers—for wisdom and for healing, for strength and pride, justice and mercy, and love.
Always, love.
On our final night, the Tadeii held a dinner in our honor. I'd tried to demur, but like Eamonn's wedding, the notion brought Lady Beatrice too much pleasure to deny her. It was good to see her happy. Alone among the wives and mothers and sisters of Lucca, she had regained a son during the siege, and war had brought peace to the Tadeii household.
It was a small gathering. The Correggii were the only other guests. But it would be the first time that Lucius and Helena had met since everything had happened, and he was nervous. We spoke of it beforehand in the salon of the guest quarters.
"I tried to…" He swallowed. "I tried to force her into my bed, didn't I?"
"Gallus did."
Lucius shot me a look. "Wearing my face. Do you think she'll forget it?"
"No," I said honestly. "But you were there, too, Lucius. You were there all along. When you knew Gallus would have let her die, you bade me look out for her. Helena knew it. When Gallus tried to throttle me, she begged me not to hurt you."
"Gallus Tadius," he mused. "There was good in him along with the bad. But when all's said and done, he wasn't all that different from Valpetra, was he?"
"Not really." I thought about it. "But he was ours. And he gave himself for Lucca."
"He did do that." Lucius sighed. "Ah, Montrève! There's a part of me wants to hide away in your entourage and flee back to Tiberium, back to Master Piero. Let him help me make sense of this all. Or even continue on to Terre d'Ange with you." He grinned at me, raising his satyr's brows. "I might do well there, don't you think?"
I laughed. "Oh, yes."
"Mayhap I'll visit." His smile turned wistful, fading. "So what do I do about Helena?"
"Treat her gently," I said, remembering the day I had called upon her and what I had felt. "Treat her with kindness and respect. Earn her trust. She deserves it, Lucius. You were friends, once, and you've got six months to learn to be friends again. It's a good place to start."
He leaned forward, knotting his hands between his knees. The furrows that