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others.
 Mayhap, Kratos said.  Mayhap, my lord.
The kindness in his voice nearly undid me.  I m not giving up, Kratos, I said.  Not while there s
breath in my body.
He smiled with sorrow.  I never thought you would, my lord. If it comes to it, I d be proud to die
trying beside you.  Tis a far nobler death than I d ever thought to earn these many years.
We rode the rest of the way in silence.
Seventy-Eight
Once the Queen declared an official end to the search for Bodeshmun s gem, a strange mood
settled over the City: proud, defiant, hostile, despairing. All of these things at once.
War was coming.
The full moon was a week away.
Companies of the Royal Army patrolled the streets, keeping order. They drilled in the City
gardens, trampling the new spring growth. Drustan mab Necthana and Ghislain nó Trevalion would be
sharing command the Cruarch of Alba and the Royal Commander of Terre d Ange. Wherever they
went, they were hailed with fierce shouts.
On an unofficial level, the search did continue. I took part in it, hoping against hope, desperate
for the distraction. On the heels of Phèdre s latest inspiration, I searched the river wharf with a company
of Montrève s retainers. Alas, to no avail. I prowled the City, muttering the word under my breath in the
hopes that it might unexpectedly release a demon. Ptolemy Solon had said it was needful to take
possession of the gem to break the spell, but mayhap he was wrong. Over and over, I whispered the
word of unbinding.
Emmenghanom.
Beholden.
And, ah, gods! I was beholden. Every day, rising under Phèdre and Joscelin s roof, I was
reminded of it. I owed them my life. Almost everything I was, I owed to them. The thought of abandoning
them, of being unable to save them, hurt more than I could say.
Kratos came regularly to the townhouse. When we could snatch a private moment, he reported
on Sidonie s condition, his homely face grave, dark circles under his eyes. He was giving up his own
sleep to safeguard hers, catching naps during the day.
At first it helped.
And then it didn t.
 We re losing her, my lord, Kratos said simply.  Bit by bit.
I fought down a welling surge of helplessness.  Does she still trust you?
 Aye. Sometimes she forgets for a moment and addresses me as though I truly were Astegal s
man. Either way, she trusts me. He withdrew a flask from the inner pocket of his doublet new livery in
Courcel blue, freshly tailored to fit his broad frame.  She s stubborn. She s fighting it as best she can.
This is a sleeping draught she had the Palace chirurgeon prepare. Kratos smiled ruefully.  She bade me
use it on her if need be. Use her own tactics against her. She reckons she won t remember them by the
time it s needful.
 Sidonie. I sighed.  Kratos, do me a kindness. Have you run of the City unheeded?
He nodded.  As far as anyone s concerned, I m General Astegal s right-hand man. No one tells
me what to do but her highness.
I handed him a letter.  Deliver this to Lieutenant Faucon. He and his men are lodging at the Jolly
Whistler near the wharf. Tell him to get it to Alais as quickly as possible.
 What s in it? Kratos asked.
 Everything we know, I said grimly.  Our failure to find the gem, all the places that I know for a
surety have been thoroughly searched. The fact that Sidonie s bindings are failing. The fact that Queen
Ysandre has pledged herself to a death-pact if Alais and L Envers take the City. Is there aught I ve
forgotten?
Kratos shook his head.  Do you reckon any of it will help?
 I don t know. I raked a hand through my hair.  If they know about the death-pact, they can
hold off on entering the City. But what then? Do they remain camped outside its walls while day by day,
week by week, month by month, the madness grows? You saw the way the violence has escalated. How
long until those trapped within the City begin to turn on one another?
He didn t answer.
I shrugged.  We do what we can, my friend, and pray.
Kratos delivered the letter and reported back to me to say it was safely done, and that Marc
Faucon believed he could get it to Alais without trouble. Their guise as barge-hands had proved effective;
indeed, the men who d ferried Sidonie up the Aviline were reckoned heroes by the City Guard. Captain
Gilbert would carry Faucon and his men to Yvens, from whence they would make haste to Turnone. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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