Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [63]
At last, the gangplank was lowered, and a lone figure descended it. The crew remained on the ship, watching in unusual silence for sailors come to port after a long journey. A soft hiss ran through the gathered crowd.
“Moirin?” Bao inquired. “That’s not the prince, is it?”
My throat felt tight. “No.”
It was someone I knew, though—Denis de Toluard. He had been one of Raphael’s closest friends, and a member of the Circle of Shalomon.
It appeared he was fighting tears.
For once in Terre d’Ange, truth had outstripped rumor. There on the wharf, Denis de Toluard made his way to King Daniel’s presence and fell to his knees. He gazed upward, his eyes filled with tears and his mouth working.
“Your majesty,” he said in a husky voice. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I wanted you to be the first to hear it.”
“Tell me.” The words dropped like two stones from the King’s lips. Desirée had gone still, and her hand felt slippery in mine, although I daresay it was mine that sweated.
Denis bowed his head. “The Dauphin is gone.”
Although he spoke softly, the words carried in the stillness; and where they did not carry, they were passed from mouth to ear. A great outcry of shared grief arose, a spontaneous ululating. The only thing that kept me from joining it was the pressure of the young princess’ hand in mine.
“Moirin?” she whispered.
“I’m sorry, dear heart,” I whispered in reply, my own heart breaking. “Ah, gods! I wish it had been otherwise.”
Later, we would learn more details about how the Dauphin’s expedition had found favor with the Nahuatl Emperor by virtue of Raphael de Mereliot’s skills as a physician. It seemed that along with foreign elements such as horses and steel, the Aragonian explorers who established a base of trade with the Nahuatl unwittingly introduced foreign diseases that ravaged the native folk, rendering them helpless before its onslaught.
The killing pox.
It was Raphael who found a way to ameliorate the effects of the pox, persuading the Nahuatl Emperor to allow him to inoculate him and his extensive family with a lesser strain of the disease.
When it proved effective, the Emperor rewarded him with knowledge, knowledge of another empire on the far side of the sea, rich in gold. But that day on the docks, we learned only that Thierry had set out on a secondary expedition that vanished into the jungles of Terra Nova.
“I was sick myself,” Denis de Toluard murmured, still kneeling. “Dysentery. I was too weak to travel. I agreed to stay behind and wait. I waited and waited, your majesty. Months past the appointed time.” He lifted his face, screwed up with grief. “But he never came. Prince Thierry never came back. None of them did. He made me promise that if anything befell him, I’d tell you myself. So I took charge of the flagship, and set sail.”
The King laid one hand on his head. “It wasn’t your fault. You did the right thing.”
“It wasn’t enough!”
“No.” The King smiled sadly. “It never is, is it?”
I swallowed my grief as best I could.
Ah, gods! Thierry, good-natured Prince Thierry, who had forgiven me all my transgressions.
Gone…
It seemed impossible—and yet it was so. Of course, it had always been a possibility. In my head, I knew this. Ships foundered, men died. Seafaring and exploring was a dangerous business. But in my heart, I simply hadn’t thought the gods would be cruel enough to deal one more crushing blow to a man who had experienced so much grief in his life.
King Daniel turned away and began walking toward the royal carriage like a blind man, his face gone utterly blank. Guards and spectators moved out of his way uncertainly.
Trusting Desirée to Bao’s care, I ran after his majesty. “My lord!” I wasn’t sure what to say. “You… you should not be alone.”
He looked at me as though I were a stranger for a moment. “Moirin. Oh. The child.” His blank gaze shifted to Desirée, holding Bao’s hand, tears streaking her face. “See that she’s safely returned to the Palace.”
“You should not be alone right now,” I said stubbornly.
My father came