The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [165]
“I can only apologize so much,” z’Acatto grunted.
“You haven’t apologized,” Cazio said.
“Cazio…”
“Go away,” he said, suddenly very tired. “Just leave me alone, whoever you are.”
Z’Acatto got up slowly and stood there, arms hanging at his sides, for a long moment. Then he walked off.
Cazio continued drinking.
He woke the next morning, still on the bench, with one of Elyoner’s pages tapping him apologetically. He groggily levered himself up to a sitting position.
“What?” he said.
“My lady would have you come to her chambers at third bell.”
“What bell is it now?”
“Second, sir,”
“Fine,” Cazio said. “I’ll be there.”
It was only as he found his room and was bathing as best he could from the basin that he began to worry about the place assigned for the meeting.
When he arrived to find the duchess in bed and Austra on an adjacent bed, his worries intensified.
“Don’t look like that,” Elyoner said with more than a hint of her old self. “Every man wants a go with two women.”
“Duchess—”
“Hush and sit on the foot of the bed,” she said, sitting up against enormous pillows. She was clad in a dressing gown of black-and-gold brocade.
As Cazio sat gingerly on the bed, two serving girls came in bearing trays of food. One was placed in front of the duchess, another next to Cazio. A third servant, a slight girl with large eyes, entered with what looked like porridge and began to feed Austra.
“Greyna is very good,” the duchess said, nodding at the girl. “Her brother was injured in the head at a joust and was unable to feed himself. He lived two years, so she’s had plenty of practice. She has a large soul.”
“Thank you for all of your kindnesses, Duchess.”
Elyoner glanced over at Austra. “That girl is as dear to me as Anne was,” she said. “She was as much my niece as Fastia or Elseny.” She shook her head. “I am hardly thirty, Cazio. I hope when you are my age you have not lost so many dear ones.”
“Austra isn’t dead,” he said.
“No,” the duchess replied. “She isn’t. Break your fast.”
He looked down at the tray, thinking he wasn’t hungry, but the cream fritters, sausage, and dewberries invited him to try a few bites, anyway.
“Unlike Greyna’s brother, Austra doesn’t seem to have an injury to her head or any wounds at all except those cuts on her legs. You said it was done by a churchman. Do you know what he was up to?”
“No. She said he said something about the ‘blood telling’ but nothing about what that meant.”
“Curious,” Elyoner said. “In any event, whatever has happened to the dear girl, I think we must suspect some eldritch cause—something I, unfortunately, know very little about.”
“Do you know anyone who knows more?”
“I assume you mean outside of the Church?”
“That’s probably best.”
“No, not really. But surely you do.”
He nodded. “Yes, there’s an old Sefry woman in Eslen that Anne consulted.”
“Eslen won’t be easy to get into,” Elyoner said. “The city is under siege, with Hespero’s army camped on the south and Hansa on the north. The fleets have met in Foambreaker Bay, but I haven’t heard much more than that.”
“Who rules?”
“Artwair had declared himself regent,” she said. “The logical heir is Charles, but no one wants that charade again. After him it gets complicated; there’s Gramme’s bastard, Robert, any number of cousins.”
“You,” Cazio pointed out.
“Oh, yes,” she said. “Yes, that’s out of the question. I simply won’t do it. Buts it’s actually rather moot, because I suspect Eslen is going to fall, and Marcomir and Hespero will decide the matter.”
Cazio shrugged. “I don’t care who rules. They can put a pig on the throne as far as I’m concerned. But I’ll have Austra back, and I need to kill Hespero.”
“Kill the Fratrex Prismo of the Church? I’ll be interested to see how you do that.”
“I’ve met them that seemed immortal and unbeatable before,” Cazio said. “Most of them are dead now, or might as well be.”
“That’s it, then? You’re really going to Eslen?”
He nodded. “If I can impose on you for a few horses.”
“Of course,” she replied. “Do you have a plan for getting into the city?”