Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [170]
It was a blessing that Raphael feared me so little that I was given free access wherever I sought to go. Asking around with Cusi’s aid, I found Temilotzin overseeing men training in a vast courtyard.
In a day’s time, our Jaguar Knight had risen high in Lord Pachacuti’s estimation. If nothing else, Raphael recognized skill and sought to put it to good use. Temilotzin had traded his spotted hides and his shattered macahuitl club for steel armor and a sharp sword, drilling almost thirty similarly outfitted Quechua in their usage. Clearly, he’d learned from watching our D’Angeline fighters along the way.
He scowled at the sight of me, gesturing to the Quechua to stand down.
“Temilotzin—” I began.
“Listen well, my little warrior!” he shouted at me. “None of these men understand a word of Nahuatl! Does your maid?”
I glanced at Cusi. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Good!” Temilotzin planted his fists on his hips, glowering at me. “You will pretend we quarrel! Eyahue and I have told Lord Pachacuti that Emperor Achcuatli forced us to serve you against our will. That is the truth you will tell if asked!”
I folded my arms and glared back at him. “I understand!”
His mouth twitched in a near-smile, quickly recapturing its hard scowl. “You needed someone on the inside. Lord Pachacuti would never have trusted the others. Tell me how we may help.”
I made my voice low and bitter. “I need to know the secret of the ancestors. And if there is aught else you deem worthy, I would know it.”
Temilotzin laughed contemptuously. “I will ask, little warrior! Whatever I learn, the old man will find a way to get word to you.” He made a dismissive gesture. “Now go.”
I spat at his feet.
His mouth twitched again. “Do not make me laugh, little warrior!” the Jaguar Knight roared. “Go!”
Turning on my heel, I went, Cusi trailing behind me.
For two days, I heard nothing further from Temilotzin, no word from Eyahue. The old woman Ocllo paid me no further visits, and Cusi seemed to withdraw further into herself, quiet and introspective. She appeared grateful for my company, grateful to dispel a measure of her fear and loneliness by sharing my bed at night, but whatever secret she was guarding, she kept it stubbornly to herself.
I saw very little of Raphael, who had immersed himself in planning for the conquest, consulting with strategists. The palace bustled with activity, and laborers in the fields worked overtime to harvest the crops that would be needed to supply this undertaking, a task rendered all the more difficult by the massive army of ants that would accompany it.
Condemned to helplessness, the men of Terre d’Ange were restless and angry. Our arrival had sparked something deep within Thierry de la Courcel, and I feared that he meant to attempt some sort of rebellion. Not even the news of Temilotzin and Eyahue’s deception placated him.
“Tell him to be patient!” I pleaded with Bao in the scholar’s tongue. “Even if it weren’t for those gods-bedamned ants, there are too few of you, and too many Quechua loyal to Raphael!”
“I know.” He sighed. “And they’ve the armor and weapons we carried with such effort only to deliver them into Raphael’s hands, while we’ve nothing but digging-sticks. Believe me, I know. But it’s frustrating, Moirin.”
“I know.” I touched his cheek. “Just keep him from trying anything foolish. If there’s a time for desperate heroics, it’s not yet on us.”
Bao nodded. “Be glad that Balthasar came with us, and Captain Septimus, too. They’re good at talking sense into the prince.”
The following day, Eyahue paid me a visit in my quarters. I was so glad to see the old pochteca, I could have kissed him. Only uncertainty over how he wanted to play the encounter restrained me.
For Cusi’s benefit, Eyahue hemmed and hawed, avoiding my eyes and acting abashed. “I come to apologize, lady,” he said in careful Quechua. “And to explain. It was Temilotzin’s idea to serve Lord Pachacuti. He