Naamah's Blessing - Jacqueline Carey [68]
I nodded.
“That will be her fate, if you do not bring her brother home.”
I sighed.
I paced the room.
“I’m scared,” I admitted at last. “Oh, Jehanne! I’ve already gone so very far, far from home.”
“I know.” She stood and wrapped her arms around me, leaned her brow against mine. “Gone and returned, my beautiful girl. Can you not do it once more?”
The memory of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself turning Her face away came to me, Her vast muzzle blotting out the stars. Behind Her oceans beckoned to me through the stone doorway, a multitude of sparkling oceans to cross.
“I will try,” I promised.
Jehanne kissed me tenderly, her lips soft and lingering on mine. “That is all I can ask of you.”
All too soon, I awoke with a gasp, cast out of my dream and into the grey dawn of reality. My diadh-anam continued to blaze within me. Bao was awake, staring at me with wide eyes and parted lips, and I knew he felt it, too.
“Moirin?” he said. “What passes here?”
“Thierry’s alive,” I whispered.
“How…?” Bao ran one hand over his disheveled hair, which stuck out in every direction. “Jehanne.” I nodded. He cast an unerring glance toward the west. “And we’re meant to go and fetch him, I suppose.”
I swallowed hard, fighting tears. “So it seems.”
“Gods, Moirin!” he grumbled, clambering out of bed with a yawn. “Could your destiny possibly be any more burdensome? And what is it with D’Angeline princes going missing? Didn’t you tell me a long story about another one who couldn’t manage to stay put?”
It made me laugh through my tears. “Bao…”
“It’s all right.” He pulled on a pair of breeches and came over to kiss me, strong hands gripping my shoulders. “Moirin, if it is what must be done, it is what we will do. But we can only take one step at a time, and today you’re addressing the members of Parliament.”
“What’s the point?” I said dully. “Jehanne told me I’m bound to fail.”
“Does Jehanne know everything?” he asked. “Did she tell you exactly where to find Prince Thierry, and why in the world he and his party never returned?”
“No,” I admitted. “She said there are rules. That she only knows what she’s allowed to know.”
“Well, then.” Bao gave me a little shake. “Even if you do fail, it may be that the attempt is important. And anyway, you have to try. It’s in Desirée’s best interest, and you’re oath-bound.”
My diadh-anam flickered in agreement. I smiled ruefully at Bao. “Now you’re developing the sensibilities of the Maghuin Dhonn, my magpie.”
He let go of me and touched his bare chest with a somber look. “I have to. What would become of me if you broke your oath, Moirin?”
I didn’t answer; we both knew. The spark of my divided diadh-anam had restored Bao to life. I’d sworn the sacred oath of the Maghuin Dhonn. If I broke it, that spark would be extinguished in me. I would live, albeit in a hellish state of separation from all that was sacred to my people, stripped of the gifts of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, barred forever from Her presence.
But Bao… Bao would die.
The reminder gave me the strength to rise and wash and dress, to break my fast and prepare to face the members of Parliament.
I spent the morning going over what I meant to say to them. There were two branches of Parliament in Terre d’Ange, the High and Low Councils. The High Council was composed of seventy hereditary seats among the Great Houses, ten for each province in the realm, plus a vote for the monarch and his or her heir; or in the absence of an heir of age, two votes for the sitting monarch. Since Terre d’Ange lacked a monarch, there would be only seventy votes cast by the High Council.
Naturally, Duc Rogier de Barthelme’s would be