Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [108]
The Emperor was silent.
Pressure beat about my skull. I breathed the Breath of Wind’s Sigh, but it didn’t seem to help.
“This one is different.” Achcuatli pointed at Bao. “Why?”
Bao smiled and narrowed his eyes.
“Ah…” Forgetting he wore a chain-mail shirt beneath his brigandine, Denis de Toluard wiped his brow with one forearm and winced. “Lady Moirin’s husband is a prince from a faraway land, even farther than ours, across many seas. He gave up his throne for love of her, that he might accompany her on this quest.”
“Is that even remotely true?” Balthasar whispered to me.
I hushed him.
The Nahuatl Emperor rose and descended from his throne. Attendants with handheld brooms bent low, hastening to brush the path before his gold-shod feet. They were forced to back out of the way when Achcuatli stopped before Bao and thrust his face close to Bao’s, staring aggressively at him.
Bao planted the heel of his staff with a thump and stared back at the Emperor without blinking.
Someone chuckled.
Belatedly, I realized the Jaguar Knight Temilotzin was among the warriors attending Achcuatli.
The Emperor smiled, returning to his throne. Once again, he spoke deliberately enough for me to understand. “Before I consider this request, I must be assured your warriors have skill sufficient to protect any pochteca I might assign you.” He made a careless gesture. “I know one who is curious. Temilotzin?”
The spotted warrior sprang into action, his obsidian-studded club raised high above his head.
“Mine!” Bao called out gleefully, already in motion, his staff a blur. No one contested him for it.
It was a short skirmish. It ended with the Jaguar Knight upended and sprawling on the floor of the throne-room, undone by unfamiliar tactics and weapons, the butt of Bao’s steel-laced bamboo staff hovering over his vulnerable throat. Our D’Angelines looked startled and a bit sick at the suddenness of it all. I couldn’t help but wonder if any of them could have dealt with the challenge as effectively, and if Temilotzin would have slain them if they hadn’t. By the looks on their faces, they were wondering the same thing.
“Interesting,” Achcuatli mused.
My skin prickled.
“Enough.” With a flick of his fingers, the Nahuatl Emperor ordered Bao to disengage. Bao obeyed. Temilotzin climbed to his feet, massaging his throat. The Emperor regarded us. “Your company is worthy, but there is another matter to consider. I have been dishonored.”
I shot Denis a bewildered look, and he gave his head a little shake, spreading his hands. “Forgive us, your majesty. Have we given offense?”
“You have not given it, but you have caused it.” Achcuatli pointed at me. “The Aragonians thought this one was a gift for me.”
“Yes, but it was a misunderstanding,” Denis protested.
The Emperor’s mouth hardened. “And did Lord Cuixtli misunderstand their shock and horror?”
Denis glanced at me.
I answered for myself, forcing myself to meet Achcuatli’s black gaze. “No, my lord. He did not.”
The Emperor nodded. “They take our women without a thought, and yet the thought of me taking one of theirs is—” He used a word I didn’t know, but the meaning was clear. His fingers drummed. “I find that a grave offense.”
My pulse hammered in the hollow of my throat. “I am not Aragonian,” I said quietly.
“You are a stranger from across the sea.” He kept his gaze fixed on me, hard and implacable. “I offer you the chance to make good on this offense.” He held up one finger. “One day and one night. It is all I ask.”
The uneasy feeling in my belly shifted, turning to the dove-winged flutter of Naamah’s gift awakening. Belatedly, I remembered the warning Jehanne had brought me in a dream the night Edouard Durel had attempted to steal the logbook.
I am here to tell you that the sacrifices Naamah asks of us may not always