Kushiel’s Dart

"Well, then, you may keep your word to him, if he should return; but once only, I think, unless he rises in the King’s regard by this venture, to a title worthy of patronage. Still, I would that all your patrons were so harmless," Delaunay said ruefully, his gaze falling on Alcuin.

"Any man may be dangerous when cornered," Alcuin murmured, "or any woman. That is a lesson I have learned well, if late. My lord, what will you do now?"

"Now?" Delaunay asked, surprised. "Naught, but to wait on word of the King’s response to L’Envers' petition, and…somewhat else. Then we will see."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

It was some days before we heard official word of the wedding of Valere L’Envers to Sinaddan-Shamabarsin, heir to the Khalifate of Khebbel-im-Akkad. The King had chosen to give his blessing to the union, and the request of the Duc L’Envers was granted, although with one unspoken caution. If House L’Envers had hoped to maintain a monopoly in Khebbel-im-Akkad, it was not to be. Barquiel L’Envers' replacement as ambassador was one Comte Richard de Quille, who bore no love for the L’Envers clan.

Interesting as these matters were, they took place very far away in a country to which D’Angeline ties were at best tenuous, and I failed to see what Delaunay’s stake in the matter was. When word of L’Envers' impending return came, I thought he would reveal it, but he kept his silence.

Whatever Delaunay waited on, he made it clear that I would have no assignations until it arrived, and worse, I was forbidden Night’s Doorstep and Hyacinthe’s company. When I proposed that Hyacinthe could find a suitable guard, Delaunay merely laughed. Condemned to idleness, I made do as best I could, tending to my studies. My old tumbling-master would have been pleased to see I had not forgotten everything I had ever learned, and I practiced diligently on the harp and lute and kithara, but being forced to it, these pleasures paled quickly.

Alcuin mended more quickly these days, and the atmosphere in Delaunay’s house had eased, for which I was grateful. I do not think they had fully resolved matters between them, for Guy’s death was an open wound still, which we did not discuss, but the dreadful tension had broken. When Alcuin was well enough to travel, Delaunay brought him to the sanctuary of Naamah, where I had gone betimes with Cecilie Laveau-Perrin.

What passed between Alcuin and the priests and priestesses of Naamah, I do not know. He did not offer to tell me, and I did not ask. But he was three days in that place, and when he returned, I knew they had absolved him of any sin against Naamah. A portion of the guilt that had clouded him was gone, and it shone freely in his every word and gesture. The healing waters of the springs had done him good, too. Though he wouldn’t allow Alcuin to venture into the City unattended any more than he did me, with the Yeshuite doctor’s approval, Delaunay made Alcuin a gift of an elegant grey saddle horse. I was glad enough of Alcuin’s recovery that I wasn’t even jealous; anyway, it is customary to present an adept with a gift when they have made their marque, and I am sure Delaunay was aware enough of the traditions of the Night Court to know it.

To be precise, Alcuin’s marque was not actually made. His still-healing wound prevented it, as it would be a lengthy business lying on his belly. But the necessary sum was in his coffer, and there was no question that his tenure was done. I made mention of it to Master Tielhard when I put Rogier Clavel’s patron-gift to good use. Delaunay at least allowed me that much, though he ordered Hovel and another manservant to accompany me. They spent the time dicing in the wineshop, a freedom I envied. By this time, I was suffering a tedium so deadly I would have gladly scrubbed the Marquise Belfours' chamber pot, for the distraction of a scathing punishment at the end of it.

In this state of mind, I luxuriated under the marquist’s ministrations, lulled by the exquisite pleasure of the tight-needled tapper. Master Tielhard shook his head and muttered under his breath, but I kept from twitching and gave him no cause for real complaint. Instead I concentrated on the isolated pain, letting my mind still so that it became the center of my being. The session passed all too quickly, and I was surprised when Master Tielhard gave my buttocks a light slap. "You’re done, child," he growled, and I had the sense he’d already told me once. "Don your clothes, and be on your way."