Naamah's Blessing (Moirin's Trilogy #3)

Naamah's Blessing (Moirin's Trilogy #3) Page 69

Ah, gods!

If Thierry were to return from his ill-fated expedition with a full hold of trade goods from Terra Nova, he would win considerable glory.

I wanted that for him. I did. I wanted it for all of us. A triumphant return would be validation beyond reproach. And it was not as though I found Achcuatli unappealing; in fact, it was quite the opposite.

But I loved Bao, and I had made a promise to him. Given his pragmatic streak, he would forgive me sooner or later. I was not sure I would be able to forgive myself.

I looked away. “You flatter me, my lord,” I murmured. “You flatter me, and you tempt me, too. But I must say no.”

Achcuatli’s hands fell away. “You’re sure?”

I nodded. “I am.”

To my surprise, he smiled. “So it is not true, what the men of Aragonia say of your people. You are not willing to sell yourself at any price. That is good to know. I was uncertain.”

I scowled at him. “You were testing me?”

“Peace.” The Emperor held up one hand. “Either answer would have pleased me for different reasons. I have already decided that I wish to engage in trade with your nation. The balance of power has shifted since first your prince came to our shores. Now that our people are no longer falling by the thousands to the spotted sickness, we are able to stand stronger against the men of Aragonia.” He paused. “I note that the one who taught our ticitls is no longer among you.”

“No,” I murmured. “He perished in Tawantinsuyo.”

“It is a pity.” Achcuatli resumed his stroll, and I kept pace with him. “We owe him a great debt.”

Since it was true, I said nothing to gainsay it. My heart ached a bit for the man Raphael de Mereliot could have been. “If you had already decided, why did you wish to test me, my lord?” I asked instead.

“I wished to learn more of the nature of your people,” he said. “As your prince said, knowledge is more valuable than gold.”

“There are those who would have taken the offer,” I said. “Would you have thought less of me if I had?”

Achcuatli shook his head. “As I said, it would have pleased me for different reasons.”

“Would you have told me that you intended to open trade with Terre d’Ange regardless of my answer?” I asked.

He gave me a sidelong glance, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Of course not. I would have let your people believe that your women are irresistible to the men of the Nahuatl Empire.”

At that, I had to smile. “You are a clever man, my lord.”

Emperor Achcuatli gazed into the distance. “Since the coming of the strangers from beyond the sea, I have had to learn to rule in a new and different way. The world has changed, and we must change with it. The old ways are not always the best ways.” He walked in silence for a time. “I have spoken with the priests regarding the words you spoke to me before. It is their belief that the goddess Xochiquetzal spoke through you. Do you suppose such a thing is possible?”

“I suppose a great many things are possible,” I said. “It is hard to know the will of the gods.”

He nodded in agreement. “This is true. But I believe that they need their people to remain strong. Strong in spirit and strong in numbers, no longer fighting amongst ourselves for glory and sacrifice, but standing strong together. To that end, I have made new allies amongst former enemies.” He glanced at me again. “That should please you, I think.”

“It does,” I said. “But what you told me was true, too. When the gods thirst, sometimes blood is the only sacrifice.” I swallowed involuntarily, reliving the memory of Cusi’s blood spilling over the stair. “I wish it were not so.”

“Perhaps it will not always be so,” Achcuatli said gently. Reaching out with one hand, he ran a few strands of my hair through his fingers, then leaned down to kiss my lips. “Now go, and return to your husband.”

I went.

Following the pull of my diadh-anam, I found Bao in a palace courtyard, sparring with Temilotzin. Both men were stripped to the waist, sweating in the sunlight, Temilotzin wielding a new obsidian-studded club and grunting with frustration as he tried in vain to either get inside Bao’s reach or splinter his elusive bamboo staff. I held my tongue, fearing that if I interrupted them, there would be bloodshed.

“I cannot believe I am having such difficulty defeating a man with a stick,” the Jaguar Knight complained, and then he caught sight of me and stayed his hand, lowering his club. “Ah! Hello, my little warrior.”

I smiled at him. “Hello, Temilotzin.”

Bao turned. “Moirin.”

Mayhap it was petty of me, but the studied neutrality of his tone galled me a bit. “Emperor Achcuatli made me a considerable offer,” I informed him. “One we did not expect. In exchange for a single night with me, he is willing to grant trade-rights to Terre d’Ange. You may have your pick of his wives, since the last one did not please you. As a token of his trust, he will fill the hold of our ship with gold and chocolatl until it wallows in the water under the weight of its cargo.”

Bao’s expression darkened. “At least you command a worthy price.”

“I said no.”

He stared at me, blinking.

Temilotzin chuckled. “Do not be concerned,” he said in a helpful manner. “The Emperor does but toy with you. He has already made his choice, and he wishes to trade with your nation. Eyahue and I have agreed to sail with you if you will have us. We would learn more of this world across the sea.”

It was my turn to blink. “You do? You are?”

The Jaguar Knight shrugged. “The old pochteca can’t stand being idle, and his family is angry at him for his nephew’s death, even though the idiot deserved it. As for me…” His voice trailed off. “You’re not listening, are you?”

“Stupid girl,” Bao breathed, crossing the courtyard in a few swift strides. His hands rose to cup my face, and he kissed me hard. “You knew the Emperor had already chosen. You were just trying to torment me, weren’t you?”

“A little,” I admitted. “I made you a promise, Bao. You might have trusted me to keep it.”

He gave me a wry look. “When it comes to matters of fidelity, history is not on your side, Moirin.”

I returned his kiss. “Nor yours, my magpie. I did not wed the Great Khan’s daughter, or bed the Spider Queen Jagrati.”

Bao’s hands slid to my waist. “Jagrati does not count,” he whispered against my lips. “I thought you were dead, not cavorting in the wilderness with some strapping milk-sop of a Vralian lad. And you would have done whatever Jagrati asked of you, were it not for the Rani Amrita.” He kissed me again. “Which is another story, isn’t it?”

I pressed a finger against his lips. “And you know why. I will not have you speak a word against our lady Amrita.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Shall we speak of your dreams instead? Dreams held on the very eve of our wedding?”

“No.” I twined my arms around his neck and kissed him. “If you don’t mind, I’d sooner we don’t speak at all.”

Bao smiled. “I don’t mind.”

“You are a very strange people,” Temilotzin commented, slinging his club over one shoulder. “Truly.”

SEVENTY-EIGHT

Two days later, we departed the city of Tenochtitlan escorted by a mounted company of Aragonians and trailed by a long line of Nahuatl porters carrying laden baskets.

Diego Ortiz y Ramos was none too happy about the turn of developments, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Emperor Achcuatli had made it clear we were in his favor, and the new allegiances he had formed within the Nahuatl Empire were strong enough that the Aragonians no longer dreamed of outright conquest, but worried about maintaining such favor as they had acquired.

Once more, we passed beneath the shadow of the White Mountain of Iztactepetl, eyeing its plume of smoke warily; but once more, the volcano remained quiet. I prayed it would do so for a good hundred years, and that the Nahuatl might have no cause to placate their gods with blood sacrifice.

The Maghuin Dhonn are not a folk who relish change, but it comes nonetheless; and that is not always a bad thing. Emperor Achcuatli spoke the truth. The world changes, and we change with it.

Without change, there can be no growth; and without growth, we stagnate and die.

The Aragonian port city of Orgullo del Sol had become larger and more refined in our absence, but after the splendors of the great cities of Terra Nova, it still looked crude and rough-hewn to my eyes. Septimus Rousse had had the presence of mind to suggest sending a few members of our company ahead to alert the crew that they might make ready to sail, but by their reactions, I daresay they hadn’t let themselves believe until they saw us.

Alaric Dumont, the first mate, wept openly as he embraced his captain in the city square.

“Sorry, sir,” he muttered, dashing his forearm over his eyes. “I fear we’d been running short of hope for far too long.” Turning to Thierry, he proffered a deep bow. “Your highness, I cannot tell you how much it gladdens my heart to see you alive and well. And I speak for all of us when I say it would be my very greatest honor to escort you home and see the rightful heir to Terre d’Ange restored to the throne.”

Prince Thierry smiled quietly, laying a hand on the fellow’s shoulder. “And I do believe I speak for all of us when I say I would like nothing better.”

Someone raised a cheer, and it was taken up by scores of voices, ragged and heartfelt. Men pressed close to clasp Thierry’s hand or clap his back. He accepted their acknowledgments with dignity.

Thierry de la Courcel had also grown and changed.

Amidst the joyous cacophony, there were a few discordant notes. There was Porfirio Reyes, the mayor of Orgullo del Sol, presiding unhappily over our reception in the port.

“So you succeeded after all, Lady Moirin,” he murmured to me after the initial exchange of greetings. “Your missing Dauphin’s unfortunate tale has a glad ending. I confess, I did not believe it possible.”

“I know,” I said. “You made it quite clear, my lord mayor.”

Porfirio Reyes gave me a shrewd glance beneath his drooping eyelids. “Yes, and I was wrong. But as I recall, you also made it clear that it was not your intention to upset the balance of power in Terra Nova. And yet it has happened.”

I spread my hands. “The world changes, and we must change with it. You were also wrong in saying I would find little to love in the Nahuatl. There is more to them than stone hearts and stone faces.”

His voice hardened. “I have not found it to be so.”

“I have,” I said. “Mayhap you are not trying hard enough.”

To that, the mayor of Orgullo del Sol had no answer.

There was also the matter of Alain Guillard and his fellow mutineers, who had rebelled and abandoned our company after the battle with the Cloud People.

“Your highness.” The Azzallese lordling addressed Thierry in clipped tones, his proud face hot with shame. His co-conspirators wore hang-dog looks. “I freely confess myself guilty of desertion and welcome whatever punishment you see fit to administer.” The other two nodded in abashed agreement.

Thierry studied them a moment. “I do not by any means condone your disloyalty,” he said presently. “But as this was a voluntary expedition, I do not think you can be considered formally guilty of desertion. I believe Lady Moirin charged you with escorting two men too grievously injured to continue to safety here, did she not?”

“She did,” Alain Guillard said stiffly.

“Did you succeed?”

“Yes.”

“Then I will consider your service fulfilled.” Thierry paused. “As far as punishment goes, I suspect that the knowledge you will have to live with an act of cowardice and disloyalty on your consciences will suffice.”

Alain Guillard’s face reddened further, but he made no protest, nor did either of his comrades.

And lastly there was the matter of Edouard Durel, the sailor who had attempted to steal Captain Rousse’s logbook and sabotage our voyage.

Thierry had heard the tale, of course. We’d had long months to share the details of our journeys with one another. He ordered the fellow brought to him. There in the square of Orgullo del Sol, Edouard Durel dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m so sorry, your highness,” he said in a broken whisper. “I was so sure you were dead, and this venture nothing but a vengeful woman’s folly. I’d have never done it otherwise, I swear.”

Prince Thierry drummed his fingers on his sword-belt. “Under ordinary circumstances, what would his punishment be, my lord captain?” he asked Septimus Rousse.

“Death,” the latter said promptly. “The Naamah’s Dove was sailing under a royal charter. It would be considered an act of treason, one that could well have resulted in the loss of the ship and all hands aboard. And at sea, the captain’s word is law.”

“And yet you chose to spare him.”

Septimus Rousse nudged the fellow with the toe of one boot. “He’s the only one who can testify that Claudine de Barthelme and her despicable sprat of a lad put him up to this. Under those circumstances, I didn’t think you’d want him dead, your highness.”

“No.” Thierry bent his gaze toward Edouard Durel. “You are willing to testify, I trust?”

Durel nodded, still weeping.

“I promised him aboard the ship that his wife and daughter will be cared for no matter what his sentence afterward,” Balthasar murmured discreetly. “I believe I mentioned it to you, my lord?”