Naamah's Kiss - Jacqueline Carey [154]
"Very." Her hands tightened on mine. "They say you've a gift?"
The salon had gone quiet, watching and listening. On the dais, Jehanne had risen to her feet and was making her way toward us. I couldn't get my thoughts in order. "I… no. Not alone."
"Hold," King Daniel said in a deep, firm voice. "Sister, tell the tale from beginning to end."
It braced her. Noemie d'Etoile caught her breath and told her tale. When the snows had melted, another wandering priest of the order had visited a remote hamlet in Namarre, a village so small it hadn't a name, pursuing the rumor of a woodcutter's daughter, a young woman of extraordinary beauty and a possible recruit to Naamah's Service.
He had found her.
She was tending to my father. In the depths of winter, not long before the Longest Night, my father had wandered into the village, fevered and delirious. The woodcutter's family had taken him in. They had hoped he would rally come spring, but instead his condition had worsened.
Now…
"Brother Ramiel recognized him," Noemie whispered. "He dispatched the nearest reputable physician, then came straightaway to the temple. Moirin… it's an affliction of the lungs. He's having difficulty breathing. Brother Ramiel was not hopeful."
My father, my lovely, gentle father who trailed grace in his wake.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes.
Raphael.
I needed Raphael.
I said the words aloud. "I need Raphael de Mereliot."
And then Jehanne was there, her hands gripping my upper arms with that unexpected strength. "Go to him," she said, soft and urgent. "Beg if you need to. Raphael owes you. Remind him. Tell him I'll beg, too." Her gaze was steady. "Do whatever is needful."
I went, stumbling, accompanied by an escort of guards dispatched by the King.
At Raphael's townhouse, the maid Daphne answered my knock. She regarded me with open hostility. "What do you want?"
I stood shivering on the doorstep. "I need to speak to Raphael, Daphne. Is he here?" She didn't answer. "Please? It's very urgent. Will you at least tell him I'm here?"
"Wait here." She closed the door in my face.
I waited.
For long moments, I thought he meant to turn me away. I wrapped my cloak tight around me, trying to quell my shivering. I couldn't concentrate well enough to breathe properly. I wouldn't leave, though. If Raphael refused to see me, I'd damn well lay on his doorstep until he relented.
But at length Raphael came to the door, his eyes bloodshot, the smell of alcohol on him. He regarded me and my guards with profound distaste. "To what do I owe the honor of a visit from the royal bedwarmer?"
"May I speak to you?" I asked humbly. "It's about my father. He's very ill."
His jaw tightened. With a curt nod, he beckoned me inside. "You and you alone. The guards stay outside."
In the marble foyer, I poured out my tale. Raphael listened with folded arms. I finished by pleading for his aid.
"You humiliated me, Moirin," he said when I was done, slow and deliberate. "You made me the laughingstock of the City. And now you beg me to ride posthaste all the way to Namarre to assist you?"
"I do." I dropped to my knees. "Raphael, please! I did a great many services for you, too. I helped you save the life of someone dear to you. Can you not find it in your heart to do the same for me?"
"In exchange for what?" His tone was neutral.
I swallowed. "What do you wish?"
A cruel edge crept into his voice. "Would you forsake Jehanne?"
I thought of her steady gaze. Do whatever is needful, she had said. I bowed my head, my heart aching at the thought of betraying her. "Is that your price?"
"No." Raphael grabbed my chin and forced it upward. "You were always more use to me out of bed than in it, Moirin. My price is this: When we are finished in Namarre, you will assist the Circle with one last summoning. You will swear to do this and to speak to no one of our bargain. Do you agree?"
I hesitated, then nodded. "I agree."
He let go my chin. "Swear it. Swear it by the oath of your people, the oath the magician Berlik swore."
I took a deep breath. "I swear