Kushiel's Chosen (74 page)

A lump rose to my throat as I watched their reunion. Of the gifts of the
thetalos,
this, mayhap, was the most pre cious: Forgiveness, given and taken freely on both sides. I knew well the pain Kazan had born, the bitter guilt at his brother's death by his own unwitting hand; I had lain beside it, seen it staring wakeful and dry-eyed in the small hours of the night. Of his mother's pain, I could only begin to guess. Some little I learned in those moments, that she was a widow bereft of her beloved younger son, waking from the first madness of grief to realize her elder son was lost to her too, condemned by her own wrathful curse. When the tale of the Serenissiman war-galleys and Kazan's battle with the
kríavbhog
came to her ears, she thought him dead and wept anew, grieving thrice for the two sons born to her.

Well, I thought, if I have done naught else, this at least is done and done well.

"Lady Njësa," Czibor said gently to Kazan's mother, re moving his helmet and tucking it under his arm as a gesture of respect. "I beg of you, forgive me, but my orders are to conduct your son directly unto the Ban's presence."

"Ah," Kazan sighed, gazing over the city. "Home!"

I did not say what was in my mind; that the charming village of Dobrek was more pleasant by far. I saw with a stranger's eyes. To Illyrians bred and born, walled Epidauro housed the soul of the land, the clenched fist raised in defiance at the oppressor. This I saw most of all reflected in Kazan's hungry gaze, but I saw it too in the faces of the others, his island-born companions who had never seen a city before Phaistos.

Only
Kazan
and I were conducted into the Ban's presence, and I felt nervous and ill at ease, conscious of my unwashed state and my salt-stained attire. For his part, Kazan was in confident high spirits, secure in his welcome.

The Ban received us not in state, but in his study, a generous room strewn about with official papers and petitions. A small fire burned in the hearth, dispelling the autumn chill, and two elderly hounds dozed in front of it on a threadbare rug. Czibor stood at attention until the Ban looked at him.

"Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève of Terre d'Ange," the Ban said in a deep voice, his considering gaze resting upon me. He sat without moving in his chair by the fire. "Her name is known to me."

He spoke Caerdicci. I knelt to him, bowing my head. "My lord, I speak Illyrian, if it please you," I said humbly. "I am sorry if I have inconvenienced you."

"Yes." He spoke thoughtfully, the Ban; he was a thickset man of some fifty years, black hair and beard still untouched by grey. His features were fleshy, and yet there was a sug gestion of leanness about him, as if he were pared to the bone by a hunger that had naught to do with sustenance of the body. "Whether or not you have is yet to be known." He looked at Kazan men and gave a slow smile. "So. Pirate."

"So you do, pirate. So you do." At that the Ban laughed, and bade us both to sit. Presently servants came bearing pots of strong tea, which they served in small silver cups, and a platter of sweets, a confection made of almond paste. When they had left, his lady wife came to give us greeting and see if there was aught else he desired. She was ten years or more younger than he, with fair hair, pale eyes and the broad, slanting cheekbones that marked her as being of Cho wati blood, those invaders who had long since been assim ilated into Illyria. By that alone I guessed him to be a shrewd ruler, who knew well how to unify his people.

"So," the Ban said heavily, looking at me. "And now Kazan Atrabiades is freed of the blood-curse, but not the blood-price the Serenissimans have laid on his head. And you, young D'Angeline, spurned by Kriti, come begging Epidauro's aid."

"For Kriti and Hellas, the gain was not worth the risk, Zim Sokali," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Can Illyria say the same?"

He stirred, causing the hounds to lift their heads and settle back with sighs. "I was a boy when the Serenissimans began taking our coast, piece by piece, and my father wrote to the King of Terre d'Ange to seek his aid in alliance. Shall I tell you how he replied?"

"It is dangerous." Vasilii Kolcei sipped his tea and stared into the fire. "The Archon of Phaistos spoke truly. Epidauro has stood against Serenissima; it cannot stand against Serenissima and Terre d'Ange both, if you fail. And where we are strong, the coast of Illyria lies weak and vulnerable, garrisoned by Serenissiman soldiers. What price will they pay for your failure, if we are named a treasonous vassal?"

Vasilii Kolcei shrugged. "It is the same. They have held elections, in Serenissima; the Consiglio Maggiore has voted. Marco Stregazza is elected Doge. He will be invested, in a week's time, and his father will step down." He gave a thin smile. "It is the will of Asherat, so they say. And your Queen will arrive in Serenissima to observe the ceremony and exchange vows of goodwill with the new Doge."

Kazan, seated opposite me, had blanched, although not on my behalf; he had come home to a hero's welcome, not reckoning the cost to Epidauro. "The Serenissimans ..." His voice was hoarse. "Czibor tried to tell me. They will hear of my return, and they will ask you for my head, Zim Sokali."

"They have subverted the will of Asherat-of-the-Sea," I said softly. "That much I know is true. I have sworn to cleanse her temple."

"So." Kazan shrugged, flicking a parchment with one forefinger. "Thus for the will of the gods, measured against the politics of man. Zim Sokali, I have tried to rule well over what was given into my hands, but I am a warrior first, and I cannot reckon power gained and lost on paper, nor the cost of men's lives. How soon will Serenissima come seeking me, do you think?"

One of the hounds clambered to its feet and pushed its nose in the Ban's hand; he scratched its head automatically, his thoughts elsewhere. "Not so soon as they might, with the ceremony of investiture nigh. If the D'Angeline lass speaks true ..." he nodded at me, "... Marco Stregazza will not overextend his reach until he has secured his throne. Two weeks, perhaps more."

The Ban was shaking his head. "No," he said somberly. "Not so simple, pirate." He glanced up as his wife, Lady Zabèla, returned to the room, nodding briefly to her and continuing as she took her place standing beside his chair. "On your own, you will not gain the harbor. The Serenissimans will search your ship, as they will search every ship, and if they do not know you by sight—and maybe they do—they will surely know the woman." He favored me with a humorless smile. "A young D'Angeline woman of surpassing beauty, fair of skin with dark hair and eyes, and a spot of scarlet on the left, like unto a thorn-prick. I fear you are not easily disguised."

"Kazan, no." My voice was shaking, but I continued. "It is not worth your life, nor the life of your men, when so many have died already. If you would aid me, give me enough of the ransom you won to let me book passage with a merchanter, and take my chances with the harbor guard. I cannot render your mother childless again so soon."