Naamah's Blessing (26 page)

“Thank you,” I said. “Just… thank you.”

Bao nodded in agreement. “You are a very kindhearted man, Brother Phanuel,” he said in a respectful tone. “Moirin is fortunate to have such a father.”

My father dismissed our thanks with a graceful gesture. “It is the least I can do. To be sure, my lord Rogier has no more use for me or my counsel.” His expression turned somber. “Have you spoken to the young princess about your plans yet?”

Bao and I exchanged a glance. “No,” I admitted. “Frankly, I’m rather dreading it, and if you have counsel,
I
would be grateful for it. Desirée’s been abandoned so many times, I fear she may take this as another.”

“It’s possible,” my father acknowledged, his gaze gentle. “And that cannot be helped. Be honest with the child. Be hopeful, but make her no promises you cannot be sure of keeping. Do not speak of any strife between you and Duc Rogier, nor attempt to warn her of your suspicions. Any such words you might speak would only be twisted and turned against you in your absence.”

“I wouldn’t!” I protested. “I would not put a child in such a position.”

He inclined his head. “You’ve been very careful to shield the young princess from the politics at stake here.”

I sighed. “I hate this.”

“I hate it, too.” The sorrow in my father’s green eyes made my heart ache. “Believe me, Moirin, I am more than a little angry at the gods myself today. They have already asked so much of you.”

“Don’t be.” I shook my head. “I fear I brought this on myself. Whatever happened in Terra Nova, I believe it is somehow connected to the summonings I helped the Circle of Shalomon perform.”

“I don’t see how it could be,” he said.

“Neither do I.” I touched my chest, feeling my
diadh-anam
flicker inside me. “And yet I am sure of it. If I had not been such a love-struck idiot, this would not have happened. Like my ancestors, I believed what I wished to believe. I failed to discern the will of the Maghuin
Dhonn Herself.” I smiled ruefully. “And attempting to set matters right is the price I must pay for my mistake.”

“ ’Tis a steep one,” my father murmured.

“It was a pretty big mistake,” Bao said, shrugging at the surprised look my father gave him. “Well, it was! They nearly set loose a demon that wanted to wreak havoc on the world and slaughter as many people as possible.”

“But that catastrophe was averted, was it not?”

Bao shrugged again. “Thanks to me and Master Lo.”

“We set
something
loose.” Once again, I remembered the faint lightning flash I’d last glimpsed in Raphael de Mereliot’s stormy grey eyes, and gave myself a little shake. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t see what possible connection there is between the events; but then, we’ve no idea what happened in Terra Nova. Mayhap I’m wrong. After all, I was wrong before. Even so, I would still have to go. I swore an oath, and my lady Jehanne tells me this is the only way to keep it.”

My father didn’t argue. “Don’t wait overlong to discuss it with the young princess,” he said instead. “Someone’s bound to slip and gossip in front of her. Best she hear it from your own lips.”

“If someone hasn’t already told her,” Bao muttered.

“I suspect my lord Rogier would do his best to prevent it,” my father said. “For his own reasons.”

“Why?” I asked.

“He thinks you’re bound to fail,” he said simply. “That way, when her highness Desirée’s hopes are dashed, it will be the two of you, and no one else, who raised them; and she will blame you for it accordingly.”

“Then why would you urge us to—?” I began, puzzled. “Oh!”

Bao grinned. “He doesn’t think we’ll fail.”

My father smiled his quiet smile. “ ’Tis a considerable test of faith, especially when one is angry at the gods. But that gets to the very heart of faith, does it not? Here and in Alba, I will pray, and I will have faith that the gods are merciful and will answer my prayers. Wherever your
fate takes you, whatever you find in Terra Nova, know that I will be here, keeping the flame of faith alight, believing that you will succeed.”

“Don’t cry, Moirin,” Bao warned me. “You’ve cried enough.”

“Oh, shut up.” I returned my father’s smile through tears. “Thank you. Surely, that will give me courage in dark times.”

He kissed my brow. “I am glad.”

TWENTY-NINE

O
n the morrow, Bao and I broke the news to Desirée.

It was difficult.

In the first place, Tristan de Barthelme was there in the nursery when we arrived, and insisted on remaining present for the conversation, refusing our polite request for privacy. “The Regency of House Barthelme is responsible for her highness’ well-being,” he informed us with fourteen-year-old hauteur. “I am here at my father’s wishes.” He turned to Desirée and held out his hand to her, his voice turning soft and coaxing. “Besides, you want me here, don’t you, ducky?”

She nodded, taking his hand.

Swallowing my ire, I knelt before her. “Do you remember how I’ve spoken of your mother, dear heart?”

Desirée nodded again, her blue-grey eyes wide as she listened.

I took a deep breath. “Well, your mother came to me in my dreams, and she told me something very, very important. She told me that your elder brother Prince Thierry is alive, and that Bao and I must go to Terra Nova to find him.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “He’s alive? My brother is alive?”

“I believe so,” I said carefully. “I believe it was a true dream. But it means we will be gone a long time finding him.”

She searched my face. “I don’t want you to go! Why can’t someone
else
go?”

Ah, gods! I couldn’t explain the Circle of Shalomon and my foolish
behavior to a child; and I couldn’t tell her about her mother Jehanne’s warning, not in front of the smirking young Tristan de Barthelme. Not at all according to my father’s wise counsel, with which I agreed. It left me not knowing what to say.

Bao rescued me. “Because heroes and heroines always get the hard jobs, young highness,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s what we do. That’s why the gods choose us for the task.”

Desirée pitched a tantrum anyway.

It was a full-blown tantrum of epic proportions, filled with wailing and flailing, fists and heels pounding on the nursery floor. And gods help me, I was almost glad of it, for it meant the spark of quicksilver joy and temper in her that had guttered so low after her father’s death was yet alive and well. Also, it drove Tristan de Barthelme from the nursery in a sullen adolescent retreat, for which I was grateful.

Sister Gemma hummed a soothing song, doing her considerable best to comfort the child.

In time, the storm passed.

“I don’t
want
you to go,” Desirée repeated, weary and fretful.

I stroked her hair. “I know, dear heart.”

She ground her rosy knuckles into her eyes. “You’ll come back, won’t you? Promise it!”

I hesitated. “Dear heart, I know you’re still a little girl, but you’re a very clever one, so I’m going to tell you a very grown-up thing. Will you hear it?”

Her tear-stained face was grave. “Yes, Moirin.”

“I will not make you a promise I cannot be sure of keeping,” I said gently. “And I will not lie to you. Terra Nova is a dangerous place. But I promise that Bao and I will do our very, very best to find your brother and bring everyone home safe. You can help us by trying to be brave. Do you understand?”

Desirée bowed her head, loose ringlets of silvery-blonde hair curtaining her face. “Yes, Moirin,” she murmured. “I will try.”

“Good girl.” I kissed the top of her head. “I have a present for you.”

At that, she looked up. “What is it?”

Reaching into the purse at my waist, I withdrew a small, stoppered bottle of cut crystal with an inch or so of liquid in it. Sunlight slanting through the windows caught its facets, decorating the nursery with rainbow prisms. “Your mother gave this to me,” I said to Jehanne’s daughter, handing her the bottle. “So that I might never forget her. But I think she would want you to have it now.”

“It’s pretty.” Desirée tilted the bottle, then gave me a perplexed look. “Thank you, Moirin. What is it?”

“Perfume.” I pulled out the stopper for her, and a heady, intoxicating scent filled the air. “It’s a very special blend. Your father had it made for your mother when he was courting her. No one else was allowed to wear it and the Head of the Perfumers’ Guild swore he would never, ever tell anyone the formula.”

She sniffed the bottle. “It’s
beautiful
.”

I smiled, hiding a pang of sorrow. “Aye, it is. Like your mother, and like you. And it’s a gift given twice in love now.” Carefully, I guided her hands in replacing the stopper. “So any time you’re feeling frightened or lonely, I want you to smell this, and remember that your mother loved you. That
I
love you.”

“Me, too,” Bao added. “Although I do not smell as nice as your mother or Moirin.”

Desirée turned the bottle in her hands, regarding its sparkling facets. “Moirin… why doesn’t my mother visit
me
in my dreams?” She gave me a plaintive look. “Did she love you better?”

“Oh, dear heart, no!” I hadn’t thought of that. “No, no, no. You know that my own mother’s folk are not D’Angeline?”

She nodded. “You’re a bear-witch. That’s what Tristan says.”

“Aye,” I said softly. “And because of it, I have a small gift for magic. That, and that alone, is the reason your mother, Jehanne, can speak to me in my dreams.” I touched her cheek. “If she could choose between us, she would choose you.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.” I folded her fingers over the bottle. “Never, ever forget it.”

So it was done. Desirée hugged us both fiercely in parting, her arms clinging around our necks, making us promise we would see her before we left for Terra Nova. That, at least, was a promise I could make gladly.

Sister Gemma escorted us to the door of the nursery. “That was well done, my lady,” she murmured in a low tone. “I fear for the child in your absence. Duc Rogier’s son—”

“I know.”

Her pretty face hardened. “I’ll do my best to protect her highness. But the Duc has made it clear to me that my position here is tenuous. My status as a member of Eisheth’s Order is the only thing that keeps me here, and he’s hinted that it may not suffice. I dare not speak against the lad lest I lose it.”

I drew a sharp breath. “He’d dare?”

Gemma nodded. “Oh, yes. His grace would see the young princess isolated from those who care for her. I suspect he’ll seek to replace me with a peer of the realm chosen from amongst his allies, one whose stature he can claim will serve to better honor the princess than a mere priestess.”

Bao muttered an unintelligible curse.

I glanced over the priestess’ shoulder to see Desirée sitting on the floor of the nursery, absorbed in counting the facets of the crystal bottle. “You are no mere priestess, my lady. I thank Eisheth and Sister Marianne for sending you. And I know you will do your best. It’s all any of us can do.”

Unexpectedly, Gemma took my hand and kissed it. “Eisheth’s blessing on you, Lady Moirin; and you, too, Messire Bao,” she said, tears in her eyes. “I will pray for your success and safe return.”

This time, I managed not to cry. “Thank you,” I said to her. “We are grateful for it.”

In the days that followed, our expedition began to take shape. The majority of the planning was handled by House Shahrizai, for which I was grateful since I had no experience in such matters.

The captain and nearly two-thirds of the crew of Prince Thierry’s
flagship volunteered for the return voyage. The ship itself was named
Naamah’s Dove
, which I thought was a hopeful omen. Balthasar Shahrizai set about recruiting trained warriors for the search party. Scores of young noblemen, especially from the Lesser Houses, applied for positions, along with dozens of members of the Royal Guard and a handful of mercenaries. After testing their skills on the practice field, where he did indeed prove surprisingly handy with a sword, Balthasar settled on a hand-picked group of forty men.

On the advice of Denis de Toluard, a shipment of trade goods was assembled. It seemed that while Terra Nova was rich in numerous resources, iron was not one of them, and much coveted by the Nahuatl.

“They’d love to get their hands on weapons and armor,” he said grimly. “But they’ll settle for tools.”

Accordingly, our manifest included a variety of useful implements: hoes and plows and awls and the like. It also included many strings of translucent, colorful glass beads and bright, shimmering mirrors, other items unknown in Terra Nova.

While our plans proceeded apace, the Duc de Barthelme’s plans marched alongside them.

To considerable fanfare, the Regent of Terre d’Ange moved his entire household from the duchy of Barthelme to the City of Elua, including his wife, Claudine, and his younger son, Aristide. As Duc Rogier had indicated to me long ago—or what felt like long ago—his wife maintained an extensive household. The train of heavily laden wagons approaching the City seemed half a mile long. Claudine de Barthelme presided over the entry like a Queen, riding a white palfrey, her chin held high. Her younger son, Aristide, rode beside her on a coal-black gelding.