Kushiel’s Dart

It seemed that there was a Tsingani route to Kusheth, something neither I nor anyone else in the Queen’s Council had known. The Tsingani live among the D’Angelines and travel our roads, and yet we know little of their ways. Hyacinthe knew. It had always been his half-secret passion, while he played in Night’s Doorstep at being the Prince of Travellers, to claim his birthright from his grandfather’s kumpania. I think, other than his mother, only I knew it.

They are great horse-traders, the Tsingani, and breeders as well. Eisande boasts the most famous, for they are dearly sought after by the taurieres who perform their deadly games with the great Eisandine bulls, but inland Kusheth holds another great center of Tsingani horse-breeding. And some few of the kumpanias journey there in early spring to have their pick of the first foaling.

This was the essence of Hyacinthe’s plan: that we should journey to Kusheth along Tsingani-marked roads, seeking his people, the kumpania of Manoj. And when we found them, he reckoned, we could beg or buy their aid in traveling as horse-traders to the Pointe d’Oest, where Rousse’s fleet was beached.

It was a dangerous plan, for it meant we would be isolated and vulnerable. And it was an excellent plan, for it cast us in a guise no one would expect.

That, more than anything else, was what swayed the odds in favor of Hyacinthe’s plan. If there was one thing that terrified me above all others, it was not daring the wrath of the Master of the Straits nor the dangers of distant Alba and the blue-tattooed Cruithne. It was venturing through Kusheth, the homeland of House Shahrizai. But no Kusheline lordling, I thought, not even Melisande, would think to examine the eyes of a young Tsingano woman for the tell-tale scarlet mote.

So it was decided.

The details of the matter were established after the Queen’s council had adjourned, all of us sworn to secrecy and loyalty. We met after a fine dinner, only a handful of us-Gaspar and Thelesis, who had been party to the Alban plan since the beginning, and Joscelin, Hyacinthe and I. It would be a week’s time before we could set out, for it was early yet, and only the eagerest of the kumpanias would be on the road. And too, there were some arrangements to be made. Hyacinthe and Thelesis would return to the City, to procure what was needful.

When all was decided, we had some leisure to talk. "Phèdre," Gaspar Trevalion said, taking my hands in his, "I’ve not had time to tell you how deeply grieved I am at the death of Anafiel Delaunay. He was…he was my friend, and a finer one I never had. The world is the less for the loss of his brilliant mind and his great heart. And Alcuin…I knew him from a boy, you know. He was a rare jewel."

"Thank you, my lord." I wrung his hands in gratitude, tears stinging my eyes. "Delaunay always counted you one of the best among men."

"I thought he was a fool sometimes," Gaspar said gruffly, "honoring an oath sworn to a dead man. It demanded a great deal, that honor of his."

"Yes." I thought of the bitter words I’d spoken to Ysandre de la Courcel, at our first audience. "But," I said, "I loved him for it, too."

"We all did," Thelesis said, and smiled. "At least those who did not hate him, for he drew strong emotions, Delaunay did. Phèdre, his house and his things were seized by the court. Have you nothing to call your own?"

I shook my head, fingering Melisande’s diamond. "Only this," I said wryly, "which surely I earned. It seems I will wear it until the day I may throw it back at her who gave it me. But I lost little to the courts. Nearly all that I had went to Master Robert Tielhard, to contract for the finishing of my marque." I looked over my shoulder, and shrugged. "That loss, I lay at the doorstep of Melisande Shahrizai and Isidore d’Aiglemort."

"I swear," Gaspar Trevalion said solemnly, giving my hands another squeeze, "on the memory of Anafiel Delaunay, while I live, you will never lack for aught, Phèdre. And when this matter is done, I will see your name cleared." He glanced at Joscelin. "Both of yours."

"Thank you." I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, which had grown seamed with age since I had known him. Joscelin, silent and introspective, nodded his gratitude.

"It seems to me," Hyacinthe remarked, "that we might claim a considerable reward from the Queen for this service, yes?" He looked at our startled faces and grinned. "If you are to travel among Tsingani, you must begin thinking like one."

I could see the distaste on Joscelin’s face. "Better than thinking as one of the White Brethren," I said to him in Skaldic. His blue eyes widened for an instant, shocked to hear words in our slave-tongue, then he smiled reluctantly.

"Will you teach me to speak Cruithne as you did Skaldic?" he inquired lightly.

"I don’t know," I said. "Do I have to have you chained in a kennel to make a willing pupil of you?"