Kushiel’s Dart

"The one who testified against House Trevalion." He continued to gaze after her. I was surprised he knew that much about the affairs of the realm. He shuddered, as if shaking off a spell; I actually sympathized with him, for a moment. "Will you be leaving now?" he asked then, polite and toneless. He had defaulted on his duty once through haste, I thought; it would not happen again.

My feeling of sympathy evaporated.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

When we returned, Delaunay was waiting for us in his receiving room, unusual in itself. I wondered if the formality was for Joscelin’s benefit, and grew further irritated with him to think it. Alcuin was there, sitting cross-legged and quiet on a low couch; he had been watching Delaunay pace for the better part of an hour, I guessed.

"Well?" Delaunay asked as we entered. "Will he do it?"

As I made ready to speak, once again Joscelin beat me to it.

"My lord," he said in his most impassive voice, unbuckling his baldric and slinging the sheathed sword off his shoulder, "I have failed in your service. I beg you to accept the blade of this unworthy one."

I stared at him open-mouthed as he went to one knee before Delaunay and proffered the blade across the back of his vambraced left arm. Even Delaunay looked startled.

"What in Elua’s name are you talking about?" he asked. "Phèdre looks well enough to me, and I ask no more than that."

"Show him," Joscelin said, not looking at me.

"What, this?" I touched the trickle of blood that had dried at my throat and laughed, uncomprehending. "From Childric d’Essoms, this is no more than a love-scratch, my lord," I said to Delaunay. "And 'twas Joscelin kept him from giving me worse."

"D’Essoms grew violent toward you?" Delaunay raised his eyebrows.

"When he learned that I had betrayed his patronage to you. But Joscelin-"

"He laid a blade against her and drew blood," Joscelin interrupted me, adamant in his profession of guilt. "I failed in my warding, and then in my anger, I let her out of my sight."

I caught Delaunay’s inquiring glance. "Melisande." Her name sufficed as explanation. "She sends her greetings. and her regrets upon your in jury," I added to Alcuin. To Delaunay, I said, compelled by fairness, "Joscelin did not fail you. He protected me well. D’Essoms took him by surprise, that’s all."

Joscelin didn’t rise, still holding out his sword, head bowed. "I have never drawn blade against any save on the practice-field," he murmured. "I was unready. I am unworthy."

Delaunay drew a deep breath, then released it. "An untried Cassiline," he muttered. "I should have known the Prefect would salt his gift thusly. Well, lad, I have measured your skill myself on the practice-field, and if you succeed thus well against Childric d’Essoms unready and untried on the proving-ground of D’Angeline intrigue, I am not displeased." Joscelin’s head came up, blue eyes blinking. He tried to offer his sword once more. Delaunay shook his head. "To fail and persevere is a harder test than any you will meet on the practice-field. Keep your sword. I cannot afford its loss." Dismissing the matter, he turned his gaze back to me. "Now what of the Duc L’Envers?"

"D’Essoms was convinced," I said, unclasping my cloak and taking a seat. "As you intended. He will convey your request, and convey word if L’Envers accedes."

"Good." A measure of tension left Delaunay. I wished I knew what it was he had invested in this. Retribution against Vitale Bouvarre and the Stregazza, of course-any fool could guess as much-but why? He had sought it even before Guy’s death and Alcuin’s injury. In the silence, Joscelin rose and strapped on his baldric, slinging the sword back over his shoulder. Two spots of color glowed on his cheeks, and shame made his movements awkward. I nearly pitied him again. The motion caught Delaunay’s eye. "You are dismissed," he said, nodding with absent courtesy.

"My lord," I said. "Now that-"

"No." He cut me off. "No assignations, not until I have met with Barquiel L’Envers. We have shaken the game-board, and I will take no risks until the players have realigned."

I sighed. "As you will, my lord."

Once again, I was condemned to a life of tedium. As if to make matters worse, Alcuin and Joscelin struck up a friendship. It began watching Joscelin at his morning exercises, a novelty which paled quickly for me-I was willing to admit it was a thing of beauty to behold, but even the most avid music lover tires of hearing the same song-but Alcuin’s fascination endured. One afternoon, drawn by the clatter, I walked onto the terrace of the rear garden to find them sparring with wooden practice swords, the kind boys use at play.