Kushiel's Chosen (22 page)

Still, she had been a patron once, and I could not resist pushing. "As my lady bids," I murmured, curtsying; she did, after all, outrank me. "I did not mean to offend."

"I swear, sometimes, you live to give offense." Solaine Belfours looked sourly at me. "But I will forgive your intervention with Ysandre, if you swear to leave well enough alone. As you say, our interests lie in the same sphere. All the same, you ought to have a care, Phèdre." A curl of contempt shaped her lips. "If you think all of Lyonette de Trevalion's secrets died with her, you're twice the fool I reckoned."

He had disavowed all knowledge and escaped all blame, when Lyonette de Trevalion's plan to put her son Baudoin on the throne was revealed; and indeed, it was my lord An afiel Delaunay who stood surety for him, then. If Solaine had blackmailed Gaspar into aiding her, surely it was to do with that. I put two pieces together and thought: Gaspar knew. He knew of the plot, and said naught, even to Delaunay. Once, then, Gaspar Trevalion would have been content to see his kinsman Baudoin crowned in Ysandre's stead. His loyalty did not run as deep as my lord Delaunay had believed.

Joscelin smiled wryly, swirling his brandy and lowering his head as if to drink. I daresay no more than a sip of it had passed his lips. "They talk about you, you know," he said into his glass. "They say you are somewhat taken with the Lady Nicola L'Envers y Aragon, so much that you refused her payment. Your friend Apollonaire de Fhirze was passing jealous." Raising his head, he gave a short laugh. "And of me." His lips twisted bitterly. "He thinks I am the most fortunate man alive, it seems."

"You would be," I said. "If you had his tastes."

"Or his sister's."

"Your grace," I murmured to the Duc, curtsying.

"If Ysandre doesn't stand on ceremony with you, I'll not." He smiled, showing his teeth. "And of a surety, Nicola is not minded to! She'd not be the first beholden to me I'd lost to your charms, would she, Delaunay's
anguissette?"

I raised my eyebrows at him. "Don't you, my lord?"

He laughed. "Ah, Phèdre! I begin to think Anafiel Delau nay named a worthier heir than any of us suspected. I thought Ysandre was mad, when she sent you to the wilds of Alba as her emissary. If I'd thought it was aught else than a fool's errand, I'd have done somewhat more to halt it. But you did it, didn't you? And yet." His thoughtful gaze measured me. "Could you truly have watched her slain?"

I didn't have to ask who he meant.

He had a couple of inches on the Duc, and the training of a Cassiline warrior-priest, begun at the age of ten. But Barquiel L'Envers was a battle-seasoned D'Angeline war- leader whose prowess had won the admiration of the Khalif of Khebbel-im-Akkad; and there are no fiercer warriors on earth than the Akkadians, ever since Ahzimandias, the Spear of Shamash, led his people out of the deserts of the Uma iyyat to reclaim the rights of the long-fallen House of Ur.

"Don't swear on your daggers, Cassiline," he said calmly, "unless you mean to use them. And if you do, strike quickly, because I'll have your head if you don't. Well, we are at an impasse, it seems; perhaps allies, perhaps foes. Shall we bargain, then, Phèdre nó Delaunay? I know one place no one has looked for the guardsmen of Troyes-le-Mont. What do you offer?"

Sometimes, one must play at hazards. "A speculation, my lord; do with it what you will. Persia Shahrizai paid her cousin a visit that night, but it was Melisande who left in her stead. This is the knowledge with which Lord Marmion confronted his sister. What she threatened him with in return ..." I shrugged. "I cannot say, except that I think he killed her for it."

His violet eyes narrowed. "Mayhap I will ask him."

"And mayhap I will join the Unforgiven," I said dryly. "Unless I think of a better way to question them."

"Your usual methods seem fairly effective." He gave me an amused glance. "I am given to understand you've made a bargain with Nicola as well, in exchange for this night's entertainment. I might even claim it myself, Phèdre nó Delaunay, as 'twas my purse funded it in the first place, if you'd not convinced me to be wary of you."

With that, he bowed and took his leave; I hastily closed my mouth on my astonishment, in time to find my arm caught tight in Joscelin's grasp.

"No," he said, his voice taut. "Not him. Phèdre, if you love me at all, promise me, not him!"

"I promise."

Ducking his head, he blushed and mumbled. It took some doing, but eventually he confessed that at those times when the Royal Archivist's steely gaze was elsewhere, various peers of the realm had been known to badger her assistants for access. I made him give me names, and from what he could remember, it was a long list.

Barquiel L'Envers was on it; so was Gaspar Trevalion, and Percy de Somerville. He remembered them well enough. None, however, had been near the ledger recording members of the Cassiline Brotherhood attendant on House Courcel. Indeed, Bernard swore up and down that no one — no one! — had ever desecrated the archives on his watch.

Nothing for it then but that I must look through the folios, poring over transcribed records and supplementary materi als. The letters were there—all there, insofar as I could tell. Letters written by Foclaidha of Alba to Lyonette de Trev alion, the Lioness of Azzalle, plotting the invasion that would have put Baudoin on the throne.

She gave him a farewell gift, though.

Well, and so; it was the past, and should have been over and done, if not for the endless intrusions of old quarrels, old betrayals, into the present. Whatever was there, if it could incriminate one of those three, it was gone now, the allegedly watchful eye of Bernard of Siovale notwithstanding. Some one of them, he said; mayhap others. More than one person had asked to see these folios. I had a good guess about Gaspar's apprehensions; about the Duc L'Envers and the Royal Commander, I could only wonder. And, of course, there were eight or nine others Bernard had named whom I hadn't even begun to suspect.

"Thank you," I said to him, making ready to leave. One last thought struck me. "Bernard, my lady de Parnasse said the Queen visits the Archives, sometimes. Does she bring her Cassiline attendants, when she does?"

"Of course!" His eyes widened. "Not that she'd come to harm, here, mind, but... she is the Queen. It is their sworn duty to protect and serve the scions of Elua."

"Have any ever come alone?" I asked.

Bernard shrugged. "Oh, once or twice, mayhap, the Queen has sent one of her Cassilines on an errand. One must make allowances for royalty, my lady; even the Archivist herself would not turn away the Queen's Cassilines!"