‘I looked at him, bleary-eyed and exhausted.
‘“Redling,” I finally said. “Redling á Sadhbh.”
‘He blinked in surprise. “That’s right. How’d you—”
‘“I remember,” I sighed. “I remember everything.”
‘The man looked me over, flint eyes and bristling beard. “I’ll give ye nae thanks for bringing such evil to our door,” he growled. “But if I must fall tonight, I’m proud to do it at the side of the Black Lion.”
‘“Oui,” said the second bladesman. “God bless, de León.”
‘I nodded thanks, shook their hands, told them to know no fear. And then I opened Dior’s door a crack, peered into the dark of her bedchamber. She faced away from the door, bundled up under her blankets, soundless and still. I watched her a moment, reminded of the nights I’d stood at the door to Patience’s room, just listening to her breathe and wondering how in the name of heaven I’d made something so perfect.
‘Again, I felt my eyes burn.
‘Again, I blinked away those useless tears.
‘And then I realized that Dior wasn’t breathing at all. That her coat wasn’t hanging on the peg, nor her boots sitting at the foot of her bed. And my belly turned to ice and I stormed into the room, already knowing what I’d find as I ripped away the blankets.’
Jean-Fran?ois dipped his quill into the ink and smiled faintly. ‘Pillows.’
‘Dior Lachance was no coward. But she sure as hell was a liar.’
Gabriel shook his head, taking a long gulp of wine.
‘And the lying little bitch was gone.’
XXII
THE LION RIDES
‘MY FURY WAS terrible. Not for the bladesmen outside Dior’s door who’d failed to hear her climbing from the window, nor for the kennelmaster who’d lain sleeping as she stole the dogs from their pen. Not for the watchmen who’d turned a blind eye as she led the hounds down the hill, nor for the soldier who’d helped her hook them up to the sled she’d loaded.
‘No. My fury was for the fool who’d believed that girl would cower inside a castle while another drop of blood was spilled for her sake.
‘We stood on Aveléne’s highwalk now, peering out through the crenellations to the glittering Mère in the frozen valley below.
‘“She rode out at dawn,” Aaron reported. “Into the snow, headed northeast towards the Maidsroad. She can take that all the way to San Michon if—”
‘“No,” I scowled. “She’s riding on the river.”
‘Baptiste shook his head. “Our scouts report she was trekking—”
‘“She’s switched back. The little bitch is clever as cats. And after getting an eyeful of that map in your hall, she knows the Mère will see her all the way to the monastery.”
‘“How do you know that, brother?”
‘I breathed deep, sighed a cloud of rolling frost. “I offered her a phial of my blood, way back in Winfael. She refused it. So when I got her that new coat in Redwatch, I slipped the phial into the lining instead.” Shaking my head, I remembered Master Greyhand’s lessons. “Old age and treachery can always overcome youth and skill, Lachance.”
‘“Forgive me, Gabe,” Baptiste said. “But what good is a phial of your blood?”
‘“Because I can feel it.”’
Jean-Fran?ois stopped writing, glanced up from his chronicle. ‘Feel it, de León?’
Gabriel nodded. ‘I’d never had a teacher. Never met anyone who could unlock the secrets of my bloodline. But still, I’d learned a few tiny invocations over the years; scraps and whispers, hidden in the pages of San Michon and unearthed by my love.’
‘Sanguimancy,’ the historian murmured.
‘Oui. And atop the walls of Aveléne, I reached towards the horizon and felt it sure and true; a tiny piece of me inside a prison of glass, headed north along a road of grey ice.
‘“She’s on the river,” I said. “And the Dead are following.”
‘“The watchmen said she’d loaded her sled with supplies,” Baptiste murmured. “But even running heavy, the Dead won’t move faster than a team of dogs on ice in daylight.”
‘“Day won’t last forever,” Aaron warned.
‘“I have to reach her by nightfall,” I said, marching down the stairs. “That’s when they’ll hit her. I need the rest of your dogs, Aaron. And a sled. Quick as you may.”
‘“I’ll come with you,” he declared, and again, I marvelled at the trust and love my brother bore for me. I smiled at him even as I shook my head.
‘“She has a two-hour head start. I need to run light as I can.”
‘“Gabe, you can’t take Danton and that army alone.”
‘I patted Ashdrinker’s hilt. “I’m not alone.”
‘Baptiste shook his head. “Gabe—”
‘“I’ll not waste time arguing, brothers. Mothermaid knows what I did to deserve friends so true as you. But you’ve not dogs enough to follow me, nor horses that can run safe on a half-frozen river. And every minute we waste is another minute Danton draws closer to that girl’s throat. So get me those dogs. Please.”
‘The kennelmaster worked swift, stripping a sled back to the bones so I might run lighter. I stood with my brothers on the frozen pier, the Mère stretching away into falling snows, the folk of Aveléne watching from atop their walls. They felt guilty no doubt; that they’d turned a blind eye and let Dior leave alone. But more, they were conscious that the girl had drawn the shadow away from their walls, that she’d thrown herself over the brink to spare them slaughter. And their voices were raised up now, a clamour along the ancient stone and ringing somewhere in the hollow of my chest.
‘“Godspeed, de León!”
‘“Mothermaid bless you!”
‘“The Lion rides!”
‘“THE BLACK LION RIDES!”
‘Baptiste threw his arms around me, hugged me fierce. “Angel Fortuna ride with you, Little Lion. May God and all his heavenly host watch over you.”
‘“Merci, brother. Look after this prettyboy for me.”
‘But Aaron wouldn’t share the smile I shot him. “This is foolishness, Gabriel.”
‘“Let’s call it reckless. Such was ever my nature. Now tell me farewell, brother, and bid me Godspeed, and if you’ve a will to pray for her, I’ll not curse you for it.”
‘“For her but not for you?”
‘“He doesn’t listen, Aaron.” I smiled, sadly. “He never has.”
‘Aaron slipped a bandolier over my shoulder, loaded to bursting with silverbombs, holy water, sanctus phials. And then he dragged me into an embrace, squeezing tight.
‘“Remember, Gabe,” he whispered. “It matters not what you hold faith in. But you must hold faith in something.” He kissed my brow, eyes shining. “Godspeed. Ride hard.”
‘The wind was at my back as I charged out, as if the storm itself spurred me on. The dogs were that dauntless Nordish stock known as lancers, and they ran swift, my sled blades hissing across the ice as we barrelled down the frozen curve of the Mère.