Naamah's Blessing

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Authors: Jacqueline Carey
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bargain. Marc was an easy companion. Balthasar wasn’t, but his barbed wit and the predatory light behind his eyes no longer disconcerted me as they had long ago. Gods knew, I’d faced worse.
    All in all, it was a pleasant enough way to while away an hour. I realized I’d lost track of time when I sensed Bao’s
diadh-anam
moving toward me, navigating the maze of the Palace to find me in the Hall of Games.
    “Ah.” Balthasar gazed intently across the chamber. “That must be the infamous Ch’in husband.”
    I glanced at Bao. “Infamous, is he?”
    “Well, I confess myself confused,” Balthasar said. “Is he an ensorceled prince, or a humble physician’s assistant? I’ve heard different accounts.”
    I laughed. “Ask him yourself.”
    He looked under his lashes at me. “Oh, to be sure, I’ll ask him
something
.”
    When Bao reached us, I made the introductions.
    “I think… I think I remember you,” Marc de Thibideau said uncertainly. “The day that Moirin healed my leg… you were there, you and that elderly Ch’in physician that Raphael de Mereliot thought of so highly.” He gestured at the bamboo staff strapped across Bao’s back. “You brought a cauldron of vile soup dangling from that thing, didn’t you?”
    “Bone soup,” Bao agreed. “Very healthful.”
    Balthasar Shahrizai cocked his head, myriad blue-black braids rustling. “That’s a
very
long staff. Do you know how to use it?”
    Bao smiled serenely at him. “Do you want to find out?”
    Balthasar laughed. “I might!”
    “You do realize he’s not talking about fighting?” I asked Bao.
    “Yes, Moirin. I know.” He gave me an amused sidelong look. “I did not think to find you here gambling. Did I not hear that his majesty the King sent for you?”
    “He did.” I fiddled with my bangles.
    “Ah.” Bao misread my unease. “We will speak of it later.”
    “No. No, no, it’s all right.” I took a deep breath, preparing to deliver the news. Everyone in the City of Elua would learn of it soon enough, and I had to start facing it somewhere. It might as well be here. “King Daniel offered me a very great honor,” I said, striving for the dignity the announcement deserved. “He asked me to stand as the oath-sworn protector of his daughter, Desirée.”
    Bao’s dark eyes gleamed. “You said yes, didn’t you?”
    “He did
what
?” Marc de Thibideau’s voice cracked on the word. “Name of Elua! You can’t be serious.”
    “Why ever not?” Balthasar inquired lightly.
    Marc gave him a startled look. “Because… because… Gods, man!” He gestured at me. “Everything!”
    “Ah, yes.” Balthasar tapped one elegant forefinger against his lower lip. “Because one of her ancestors did somewhat terrible, once. Therefore, all of his descendants should be held in suspicion, eh?”
    Once again, Marc flushed—more deeply this time. “We’re not speaking of House Shahrizai, Balthasar!”
    “No.” The other settled a surprisingly grave gaze on me. “We are speaking of Moirin mac Fainche of the Maghuin Dhonn, whose folk have been reviled worse than House Shahrizai for the past hundred years and more. And yet, as I do recall, one of her first public acts in Terre d’Ange involved saving a man’s life. Lord Luchese, was it not?” he asked me.
    I nodded. “I believe so. I did not know the fellow.”
    “Then there was your leg, if I am not mistaken, Marc,” Balthasar continued in a judicious tone. “And after that… oh! There was the hunting party. You weren’t there for that, were you?”
    “What hunting party?” Marc de Thibideau demanded.
    Balthasar Shahrizai smiled, enjoying himself. “The one where Thierry was thrown from his horse and nearly bitten by a viper. So he would have been, if Moirin had not lifted her bow, the rustic ill-hewn bow we had all mocked, and pinned the deadly creature to earth with a single well-placed arrow.” He mimed the act, hissing between his teeth. “Just like that!”
    “I had

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