Naamah's Curse - Jacqueline Carey [133]
It was almost dark by the time I drew near, although I could see clearly in the twilight. At a hundred yards out, I dismounted and tethered my mare to a stake.
“Be silent, great heart,” I whispered to her, touching her thoughts. I stroked her thick, coarse forelock and scratched the base of her ears. “The darkness will hide you, but I cannot shield us both.”
She bent her neck and turned her head to lip softly at my palm, huffing through her nostrils.
I kissed her muzzle. “Good girl.”
The last hundred yards, I crossed on foot, my Tatar bow held loosely in one hand, the quiver slung over my shoulder.
It was a familiar scene, albeit one rendered strange by the twilight. The Great Khan and his folk were celebrating and the airag was flowing freely, the pungent scent of fermented mare’s milk riding the night air. Fires of dried dung burned, silvery in the twilight, folk gathered around them.
Unseen, I prowled through the camp until I spotted Erdene.
Bao’s wife.
In so many cultures, this would have been unthinkable, that a princess should be so accessible and ordinary. But the Tatars, like the Maghuin Dhonn, live close to nature. I waited until Erdene excused herself, made her unsteady way to the latrine alone.
I followed her.
I waited until she had finished.
And when Bao’s Tatar princess began to make her way back to her father’s great ger, I drew the twilight deeper into my lungs and blew it softly around her, spinning it around her like a web, drawing and nocking an arrow as I did.
Erdene shrieked.
“Hello, my lady,” I said softly.
Her almond-shaped eyes were stretched wide, showing the whites. “Are you a ghost? Have you come to haunt me?” Her chest rose and fell in a panic. “I swear, I did not know what my father intended!”
“I know.” I kept my voice gentle, but I also kept my arrow trained on her. “I am no ghost, my lady. You are encompassed in my magic, nothing more. It will not harm you. Nor will I, if you are truthful. Tell me, where did your father send Bao, and what has befallen him?”
“No ghost?” Her voice trembled.
I shook my head, hoping to coax a measure of trust from her. “Flesh and blood, I promise you.”
She wasn’t convinced. “How did you escape from the Falconer’s men if Bao did not find you? No one escapes.”
“The Falconer?” I was puzzled. “Is that what you call the Patriarch?”
Erdene looked blankly at me. “Who is the Patriarch?”
“Pyotr Rostov, the Patriarch of Riva. Your father betrayed me to a pair of Vralian priests in his service…” I could see that the words meant nothing to her. “You didn’t know.”
She shook her head. “No. He said the Falconer had sent for you.”
“Who is this Falconer? Is that where Bao’s gone?” I lowered the bow a few inches. “He’s in trouble, my lady. Far away, and in trouble. Mayhap injured, mayhap ill, mayhap imprisoned—mayhap all three, or worse. I don’t know. If you care for him at all, I beg you to tell me the truth.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Erdene gave a curt nod. “For Bao’s sake, I will help you, even though he does not deserve it. But not here. There is too much to tell. If I don’t return soon, someone will come searching for me, and it’s not safe for you to be here.”
“They will not find us unless I release the twilight,” I assured her.
She shook her head again, stubbornly. “I need to see you in daylight, to be certain you are flesh and blood. Tell me where to find you. Tomorrow at dawn, I will ride out to hunt alone.”
It was my turn to hesitate.
“It’s not a trick.” Erdene read my thoughts and gave a grim little smile. “I swear by the sky itself, I will not lead anyone to you. And I have your things,” she added. “I can bring them to you.”
“My things?” I echoed.
The Great Khan’s daughter nodded, plucking a dagger from her belt. I raised the bow automatically, but she only showed the blade