Naamah's Blessing Page 32


“She can’t see us,” I said softly. “No one can until I release the twilight.” As soon as the Nahuatl servant left, I let it go. The deep shadows lightened and the torches burned yellow and orange once more.


The mayor looked a trifle pale. “A sorceress, then?”


I shook my head. “ ’Tis a gift of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself to my mother’s folk, and it is She Herself who laid this destiny on me—not for the first time. I have travelled the far reaches of the world before, my lord. I am not some pampered court noblewoman with a foolish romantic notion of heroism, and I beg you not to seek to protect me for my own good.”


Porfirio Reyes swirled the brandy in his glass once more, and took another measured sip. “I see.” He set down his glass. “All right, then. You’ll need to travel to Tenochtitlan to obtain the Emperor’s blessing on the venture.”


“I know.”


He rubbed his bearded chin. “Achcuatli’s a clever fellow. He was under pressure from our side not to open serious trade with your Dauphin’s party, but thanks to that physician’s preventative treatment of the pox, he owed them a debt. He provided them with a map to the empire of Tawantinsuyo under the guise of a reward, but I’m not so sure it wasn’t a convenient way of dodging the issue.”


Balthasar raised his brows. “Is the empire real or not?”


“Oh, it’s real,” Porfirio said. “Or at least so I’m told. But if Achcuatli truly had your Dauphin’s best interests at heart, he wouldn’t have given them a map that sent them deep into the heart of the jungle.”


“There’s a better route?” Denis inquired.


The Aragonian mayor nodded. “Overland across the isthmus, and southward along the coast to the mountains.”


“Doesn’t matter,” Bao said with his usual pragmatism. “We’re not looking for the empire, we’re looking for the missing prince. Which means we have to follow his route, not a better one.”


Porfirio Reyes sighed. “Altogether too true.”


“Into the jungle!” Balthasar hoisted his glass, contemplating its contents. “With its myriad dangers and flowers of surpassing beauty.”


The bewildered Nahuatl servant who had found us missing returned to the courtyard and found us restored, all of us in our seats. Porfirio Reyes issued a series of commands, and she returned to refill our glasses with stoic efficiency.


“Whatever trade goods you’ve brought, you’d be well advised to use them in exchange for Emperor Achcuatli’s aid,” he told me. “I understand there are pochteca who have ventured into the green realms.”


“Pochteca?” I asked.


“Merchants,” Denis murmured. “Travelling merchants.”


The mayor nodded again. “They guard their secrets fiercely, but Achcuatli has the authority to command them. Your chance of survival would be greatly enhanced by having a guide familiar with the territory.”


Denis de Toluard flushed with anger. “All of this would have been most helpful to know before, my lord mayor. I may have been sicker than a dog, but I know there was no talk of better routes or knowledgeable guides; and in all the months that followed, Captain Ortiz y Ramos never breathed a word about either. If you ask me, that makes the lot of you complicit in Thierry’s disappearance.”


“May I remind you that you weren’t welcome here?” Porfirio’s tone hardened. “Aragonia has no desire to share trade relations with Terre d’Ange! Not only that, but when your physician shared his method of inoculation with the Emperor’s ticitls, he took away one of our greatest weapons.”


My stomach felt hollow. “You used the pox as a weapon? The killing pox?”


He gave me an apologetic look. “Not deliberately, of course. But it was cutting quite a swath through the Nahuatl population before the D’Angelines arrived. It seemed they had no natural resistance to it. In time, it would have reduced their numbers to a mere fraction, rendering the entire nation ripe for conquest.”


Reminding myself that this fellow who had seemed so charming had the power to thwart our mission, I swallowed hard and said nothing.


“I know it seems ruthless, but believe me when I tell you that you’ll find little to love in the Nahuatl,” Porfirio said gently. “If you’d seen the steps of their temples running red with blood, you’d understand. They have no regard for human life, and they’re capable of immense cruelty. They believe their god Tlaloc requires the sacrifice of young children to bring the rain, and they torment the little ones before death so that their tears dampen the earth; and that is but one of the gods they worship.” He shook his head. “No, no. You’ll find nothing to love about them. They’re a barbaric folk, in some ways scarce better than animals.”


Clearing his throat, Balthasar changed the subject. “If I may return to the matter at hand, we’re most grateful for your counsel, my lord mayor. But if the Emperor did not see fit to appoint the Dauphin a guide, what makes you think he’ll grant our request?”


The mayor laced his hands over his belly. “Because thanks to me, you know to ask for it. And you’re not here to upset the balance of order, are you?”


“No,” I murmured. “Only to attempt to find Prince Thierry and the others, I swear it.”


“Listen, my lords, my lady.” There was sympathy in Porfirio’s drooping gaze. “I spoke truly when I said it was a sad tale. No one wanted your Dauphin and his men to meet a foul end. We hoped only that the rigors of the jungle would dissuade them, that they would accept defeat, turn back, and abandon the notion of encroaching on Aragonia’s claim here. If I’d known what would happen, I would have turned him away here.”


Bao stirred. “Why didn’t you?”


He smiled wryly. “I didn’t want to provoke a diplomatic incident; and quite frankly, our garrison here wasn’t yet fully staffed. If the Dauphin had refused my order, I doubt I could have enforced it.”


“Pity,” Balthasar said. “It would have saved a lot of trouble.”


“Indeed.” Porfirio Reyes lifted his brandy glass and drank the last of its contents, then rose and patted his belly before giving us a sweeping bow. “And now I shall bid you good evening, my lady, my lords, and retire.”


All of us took his cue. In the room Bao and I shared, both of us gazed at the wide-seeming bed with its comfortable pallet and clean linens.


“Do you…?” Bao asked uncertainly.


I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my appetite for lovemaking tonight.”


“Oh, good,” he said with relief, taking a seat on the bed and prying off his boots. “Never thought I’d say that.”


I sat beside him. “It’s a lot to stomach.”


“It is.” Bao put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple with uncommon tenderness. “Let’s just get some sleep, huh? We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.”


It was sound advice, but sleep evaded me. Bao… Bao could sleep anywhere, no matter what the circumstances. I lay on the bed in the sheltering curve of his arm, trying to take comfort in his deep, even breathing, trying to dispel the images of bloodstained temples and crying children that haunted me.


A stone face and a stone heart.


You’ll find little to love in the Nahuatl…


Mayhap it would prove true, but I’d found little to love in the Aragonians in Terra Nova thus far, too.


The killing pox…


I remembered summoning the fallen spirit Marbas with the Circle of Shalomon. While they had bartered in vain with a spirit who had appeared in the form of a lion, under no obligation to answer as a human, I had spoken to him in the twilight.


Among the many gifts Marbas could bestow was the cure for any disease. I had begged him to relent and give one to Raphael de Mereliot.


The lion’s eyes had glowed. It’s not so simple, he had told me. To learn the charm to cure, you must learn the charm to cause. Leprosy, typhoid, pneumonia, plague… I can teach you to invoke and banish any one of these. Would you possess such knowledge? Would you put it into their hands?


I had refused.


That, no one knew. I’d never told anyone. But after tonight’s conversation with Mayor Porfirio Reyes, I was convinced that that was one of the wiser decisions I’d made in my young life. Even without a fallen spirit’s charm to invoke, the Aragonians would have gladly seen the vast majority of the population of the Nahuatl Empire wiped from the face of the earth by the killing pox.


And it was a piece of irony that even without Marbas’ gift, Raphael de Mereliot had spared the Nahuatl from that fate.


A small part of me that had once loved Raphael was glad for his sake.


I hoped he was, too.


THIRTY-FIVE


Come morning, we broke our fast with the mayor of Orgullo del Sol, dining once more in the courtyard on fresh fruit, eggs topped with a spicy sauce, and more of the flatbread Porfirio Reyes told us was made from a grain called maize. It was the staple item of the Nahuatl diet.


As the mayor gave us further advice on our journey, my mind wandered.


I remembered dining on a dish of spice-laced eggs and flatbread made of lentils with the Rani Amrita and her son, Ravindra, in Bhaktipur, and I wished I were there instead of here. I wondered how tall solemn Ravindra had grown since Bao and I had left, and how the women and children we’d rescued from the Falconer’s harem were faring.


I wondered if the vast change the Rani had implemented, banishing the practice of regarding no-caste people as untouchable, had begun to spread throughout Bhodistan or if it remained confined to Bhaktipur.


Thinking on the mayor’s lack of compassion and gazing at his unlovely face, I thought I would give a great deal to see Amrita again, to hear her musical laugh as she teased me affectionately.


But Bhaktipur was far, far away. Our business was here in Terra Nova. With an effort, I made myself concentrate on Porfirio Reyes’ advice. I might not like the fellow, but the truth was, he was being generous with us.


“… brought horses with you?” he was inquiring.


“Four pack-horses, all geldings,” Balthasar replied. “Don’t worry, we mean to respect the Aragonian ban on trading horse-flesh and steel weaponry.”


“Good, good.” Porfirio nodded in approval. “As long as you hew to the insistence that it’s forbidden by your gods, Achcuatli shouldn’t give you too much trouble. As much as he’d like to get his hands on them, he’s a superstitious fellow, too. But if I may give you an additional piece of counsel, you’d be well advised to spare one of the horses that Lady Moirin might ride.”


“Why?” I asked.


“In order to command respect,” he said to me. “My lady, I’ve seen your magic, and I’m willing to believe you’ve a measure of experience in the world, but there’s no telling what the Nahuatl will do when they get their first glimpse of a European woman. The more respect you can command, the better.”


Balthasar raised his brows. “Do they practice heresy?” He clarified in the face of the mayor’s incomprehension. “Do they force themselves on the unwilling?”


“Ah.” Porfirio’s expression cleared. “I’d forgotten that was the D’Angeline term. Given the opportunity, I don’t doubt they would.”


“Actually, it’s not a common practice among the Nahuatl,” Denis de Toluard murmured.


“It’s not?” The mayor appeared surprised.


“I learned a few things about them during my time here,” Denis said dryly. “I don’t dispute their many cruelties, but that doesn’t seem to be one of them.”


“Even so, it’s not a bad idea,” Bao said.


“I don’t want to ride while everyone else has to walk,” I protested.


Bao gave me a look. “I made a promise to your father, Moirin—and you have a knack for finding trouble. If there is a chance the Nahuatl will be hopelessly inflamed by your green eyes and foreign beauty, and a chance that riding astride will help convince them that you are a great and powerful royal lady whose person must be respected, I will take it.”


I shrugged. “All right, all right!”


Porfirio Reyes looked relieved. “A wise decision, my lady. I’ll see that you’re loaned a saddle.”


Shortly after we’d concluded our breakfast, Captain Septimus Rousse came to report that all was in readiness for our journey. The sailors were lodged for the duration in an Aragonian inn, and Edouard Durel remained under guard. The ship was unloaded, trade goods distributed among our four pack-horses. He took the news that we were to lose one of them in stride.


“We’ll hire a few of those porters,” he said. “Our men are already burdened enough marching in armor.”


“You might visit the slave market,” Porfirio suggested. “In terms of cost, it’s likely more effective to purchase several slaves and sell them when you reach Tenochtitlan.” He caught my uneasy look. “I understand your discomfort, my lady, but it’s the way things are done here. It’s customary among the Nahuatl.”


I shook my head. “The folk of the Maghuin Dhonn hold their freedom dear. I could not bear knowing I’d treated another human being as nothing more than chattel, no matter how briefly.”


The mayor patted my hand. “Ah, I’d forgotten what the delicate sensibilities of real women were like! No doubt your captain can hire the services of a few free porters.”


Porfirio Reyes insisted on accompanying us to the harbor where our party was assembled in preparation for departure. I had to own, they looked quite resplendent. House Shahrizai had seen to it that our fighting force was outfitted in a manner appropriate to the climate and the need for extended foot travel, and all forty of Balthasar’s hand-picked men were clad in shirts of the finest chain-mail D’Angeline smiths could forge, over which they wore suede brigandines dyed Courcel blue and studded with rivets. Steel vambraces, greaves, and conical helmets that flared to protect their necks completed their ensemble, all polished to a high shine and glittering in the bright morning sun.

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