Favrielle accepted the contract absentmindedly, her gaze distant as she calculated. "I'll stay," she said abruptly to the Dowayne. "Two thousand's not enough to do it properly, not with the costs of lodging and materials. In a year's time, I can earn enough to set up my own lines of credit with merchants and hire my own assistants. But I'll not work free for Eglantine House."
"Of course." Moirethe Lereux spread her hands. "Any arrangements you make with adepts of the House will be strictly on commission. Provided, shall we say, that you con tinue to train such assistants as you choose and allow them to work on the House's behalf when precedence requires. We can negotiate such occasions as they arise."
"Done." Favrielle nodded. Regarding me once more, she knit her brows in a scowl. "I'll not work free for you either, Comtesse. You chose this, not I. There is no debt between us."
"I agree," I said mildly.
She narrowed her eyes gaugingly. "Do you have any money left?"
Remy coughed, and I could hear a faint sound as Joscelin's elbow dug into his side. "I will," I said, ignoring them. "Once the assignation is completed, and I have repaid my debt to my factor. Why?"
Her scarred lip curled wryly. "I've set a high tidemark with you, Comtesse. The City will look to you, now, to set the mode. It will serve us both well if I continue to design your wardrobe. Anyway, whether I like you or no, you're interesting to dress."
"Then," I said, rising, "I will call upon you again, Favrielle nó Eglantine, when my coffers are full again."
So it was that we took our leave, and Joscelin waited until we were in the courtyard before bursting into rueful laugh ter. "Phèdre," he said, shaking his head. "Will you never be done with surprising me?"
"If you thought better of me," I retorted, "you would not be so surprised."
No longer laughing, he looked at me with sorrow in his summer-blue eyes. "You don't make it easy," he said qui etly. "It would be simpler, if it were only about money."
"Yes." I sighed. "You'd have fled back to the Cassiline Brotherhood long ago. But I'll not pretend to simple greed, Joscelin, just to ease your conscience. Stand at the cross roads if you will, but if you'll not choose, I'll move on without you." "I know," he murmured, and we spoke no more of it.
FOURTEEN
On the day of my assignation with Severio Stregazza, a summons came from the Rebbe to meet with him for another session. In truth, I had been somewhat remiss in my studies, but he had promised to tell me tales of the Lost Book of Raziel, and I did not want the opportunity lost. Gauging the hour to a nicety, I determined I had the time to spare.
Unprepared as I was, there are times when distraction serves better than focus, and this proved one such; half-unthinking, I rattled through the verses of the Tanakh he'd assigned me without an error. Expecting to have my knuckles struck, instead I was rewarded with one of the Yeshuites' apocryphal tales, such as are passed from mouth to mouth and not recorded in their books.
"It is commonly said," the Rebbe told me, "that Sammael and others among Adonai's servants were jealous that He had given such power to Edom the First Man; power even to master the
Malakhim."
(For so, I may add, did the Yeshuites name angels in the Habiru tongue.) "And Sammael stole the Sefer Raziel, and cast it into the waters."
"I have heard as much, Master," I replied politely.
"I am not done." The Rebbe glowered at me. "There is another tale, of Lilit, Edom's first wife, whom Adonai wrought before the mother of all, leva. Out of dust He made them both, equal to equal, and blew the breath of life into their flesh — and sorry enough He was, for Lilit disdained to serve beneath Edom and fled, taking with her the Sefer Raziel. And when Adonai sent his
Malakhim
to retrieve her, she laughed, and opened the book and read aloud a word, commanding them by the Sacred Name to return empty-handed."
Intrigued, I rested my chin in my hand. The One God had sent his servants to bid Elua to return, too. The first, who came with a sword, Blessed Elua charmed with his sweet ness; the second, who came with a plea, Elua answered with his own red blood, piercing his flesh and bleeding onto the rich soil of Terre d'Ange. So are we bound to this earth, we who are D'Angeline; even the followers of Cassiel, for it was he who handed Elua the dagger. But for all of that, I never heard that Elua and His Companions knew a word that could compel the One God's servants. "And?" I prompted.
"And Mikael, the commander-in-chief of the Lord's Host, strove with her and wrested the Sefer Raziel from Lilit, but he was bound by her command, and threw the book into the ocean, returning empty-handed to the Throne of the Lord," the Rebbe finished. "So it was that Adonai bid Rahab, Prince of the Deep, to retrieve the tome. If you say truly, perhaps it is that Rahab obeyed but in part, keeping back some few pages." He shrugged. "These are stories that are told. I do not know."
"What became of Lilit?"
The Rebbe fingered his
khai
pendant. "She wed Ashmedai, the Prince of Demons, and spawned six thousand children of darkness, who haunt our dreams at night, or so it is said. Until Yeshua ben Yosef was born, and they dared to tempt him, and he changed them into the likeness of black dogs, chaining them beneath Mount Seir, where they fester and howl until the Mashiach shall return, and put an end to their suffering."
"A lot of good that does me," I murmured. "Well, then, what became of the Lost Book of Raziel after Rahab brought it up from the deep?"
"Would you run before you walk?" the Rebbe asked sternly, pointing at the Tanakh scroll. "Next time, you study the Sh'moth. Perhaps then I will tell you more.”
"Yes, Master." I sighed, and made ready to leave. "I will await your summons."
Keeping to the letter of our agreement, I smiled pleasantly at such folk as I saw upon departing the yeshiva, but made no effort to engage them in conversation. I was hard-put to ignore Joscelin's exemption from this charge, as he exchanged smiles and murmured greetings with half a dozen Yeshuite folk. Indeed, the young woman I had seen teaching schoolchildren on our first visit caught him back as we left, whispering something urgent to him and blushing as she reached up to slip a chain about his neck.
I would have asked him about it the moment the door closed behind us, were it not that a disturbance in the court yard distracted me. Near to where our carriage awaited, a handful of Yeshuites stood arguing in Habiru; young men, all of them, ganging up on the youngest of the lot. I daresay I'd not have paid it much heed, were it not for the fact that all save the youngest were clad in D'Angeline fashion, eschewing their sober attire and sidelocks for such garb as soldiers might wear. Indeed, two of them bore swords at their sides.
" '... giveth snow like wool,' " one of them was saying, face thrust aggressively forward, " 'he scatters hoarfrost like ashes.' How do you take that to mean, Simeon, if it is not northerly? I tell you, we are not meant to sit idle, when Adonai bids us build a kingdom for Yeshua's return! Do you doubt? 'He sendeth forth his word and melts them.' It is the craven fear of old men and mewling women that keeps the Chosen of Terre d'Ange homeless as Tsingani!"
I glanced at Joscelin, who stood frowning thoughtfully at them. "What do they mean?" I asked him; one of the Yeshuites looked over, hearing my voice.
"You should join us, brother apostate!" he called to Joscelin. "We could make good use of a blade such as yours."
Joscelin shook his head politely, smiling, and opened the carriage door to hand me inside. I caught the door and held it ere he could close it. "Will you tell me?" I asked, and caught sight, unexpectedly, of a
khai
pendant hanging on his doublet, a small silver disc with the Khet-Yod symbol graven in black. "And this?" I added, lifting it from his chest.
"A gift," Joscelin said firmly, plucking it from my hand. "It is not your concern."
Pain, unexpected, lanced through my heart; his face was closed and shuttered to me. "Well, then," I gasped, catching my breath at it. "Will you tell me why they spoke of blades?"
For a moment, he only frowned at me, then answered reluctantly. "There is a prophecy that the Kingdom of Yeshua will be established to the north; further even than the Skaldi territories, and eastward. It is said that Yeshuites in other nations have left already to found a new homeland. Some of the younger ones wish to follow. They believe that they will need carve it out with steel."
"Very well." Regaining such composure as I could, I strove to keep my voice from trembling. "I did not know that. Thank you."
He nodded, expressionless, and made to close the door.
"Joscelin," I said, halting him once more, unable to help the spite that crept into my tone. "My lord Delaunay con tracted you because his man Guy was slain by a creature of the Stregazza. Will you allow me to go to this prince of the Stregazza attended by a, a half-trained sailor," I cited his words maliciously, "or do you propose to attend me your self, O Perfect Companion?"
His face might as well have been a mask as he bowed, the
khai
medallion swinging forward to clink against his crossed vambraces. "In Cassiel's name," he said coldly, "I protect and serve."
With that, he closed the carriage door firmly, leaving me alone to grit my teeth against the threat of tears. Against all o dds, I heard Melisande's voice in my memory, melodic and amused.
Oh you protect well enough, but I'd ask better ser
vice, were you sworn to attend me, Cassiline.
Elua, I thought, stifling a despairing laugh, I wish she were here! No one else could appreciate the perverse anguish of my situation. I wondered if she had known, when she sent the cloak, the havoc it would wreak between Joscelin and me. Most like she had, when I considered it; Melisande had been the first to perceive his feelings, long before I thought it possible. She had laughed out loud, the first time she'd seen him attendant upon me; it was the only time one of Delau nay's ploys truly caught her by surprise. Even at the end, when I stepped forward to reveal myself alive and give the testimony that condemned her, she had betrayed less.
Well, done was done, and I could not go back. In many ways, it was Melisande who united Joscelin and me, selling us together into slavery to the Skaldi. Now her game thrust us apart, the cloak a gambit I could not ignore. And the winding trail by which it had reached me led inevitably back to La Serenissima, and the coiled machinations of the Stre gazza. I had a chance, now, to tease out some thread from that tangled coil in the person of the young Prince Severio. If I stood any chance of regaining Joscelin, it was on the far side of that mystery.
I could only hope he would still be here when I found my way clear.
I had come to such resolution as I could, and set the matter behind me. Cassiline guilt and Yeshuite prophecies would wait; I had a patron to attend. But the memory of Melisande's amusement stayed with me as I bathed and made ready, and whether I willed it or no, a slow eagerness heated my flesh as I considered this evening's entertainment. Elua, but it had been a long time! If Severio Stregazza lacked the skill to play me as I deserved, still, his blunt anger would suit my mood.
"Are you ready?" Joscelin asked curtly when I emerged at length, clad in a gown of deep blue velvet that made my skin glow like cream, my dark hair bound low at the nape of my neck with a fillet of gold. Ti-Philippe, who had offered to drive the carriage, stood nervously by. None of my chevaliers liked it when Joscelin and I quarreled; but I had gone well beyond that, in my mind.
"I am," I said softly, settling my
sangoire
cloak upon my shoulders.
"Let's go, then."
So much the same, and so different, walking with Joscelin through the Palace, en route to an assignation. I did not think I would ever become accustomed to the inclined heads, the murmured greeting, "Comtesse." The whispers, though, af ter I passed; those were the same. And Joscelin, austere and disapproving—that was the same. It was only the reason that was different. That, and the fact that instead of the ashen-grey garb of his former brethren, he wore sober livery of black and green, the Montrève crest wrought small over his heart, and hung about his neck, a
khai
pendant on a silver chain.
No one, though, would mistake him for aught but a Cassiline. It was not only the traditional arms he bore—twin daggers low on his waist, the longsword at his back and steel vambraces buckled on his forearms—but the sternness of his mien, the odd combination of rigid dignity and fluid grace that marked members of the Brotherhood. In Montrève , he'd all but lost the habit of stiffness. It had returned, here.
Idiot, I thought, and felt guilty at it.
As the grandson of the Doge, Severio had brought a retinue of Serenissiman servants, and I was ushered into his quarters with respectful greetings and sidelong glances. Ýsandre had granted her cousin fine lodgings indeed, I thought, gazing around. I did not wonder at it, for Severio was the first emissary from her Serenissiman kin to acknowledge her since her coronation; due to the intervention of war or the bad blood between her uncle the Duc L'Envers and her great-uncle Prince Benedicte's descendents, I could not say, although doubtless the latter played some part in it.
"Contessa." A servant in Stregazza livery bowed low to me, speaking in softly accented Caerdicci. All the city-states of Caerdicca Unitas speak the Caerdicci tongue, but it varies from place to place, and in La Serenissima, the faint, fluid accent of the ancient Phoenician seafarers who founded her endures. "Master Severio will receive you presently," he said, taking my cloak and folding it over his arm. "Does your man wish aught while he awaits?"
