Passion Play (River of Souls 1)

“No,” she said softly. “We must not tempt each other.”

Back to Tiralien then, to examine the cities nearby. Leniz was a garrison town a week’s ride south of Tiralien. Compared to Tiralien, it offered little unless she took up soldiering. North was Idar-Alszen, a market port that served as an interim stop between Melnek and Tiralien. Back south, beyond Leniz to Osterling Keep.

“Osterling,” she said, half to herself.

Raul, who had been studying the northern provinces, glanced up. “What about Osterling?”

Ilse touched the gold circle marking Osterling Keep, which lay between Leniz and Klee, on a point of land jutting into the sea. A range of hills covered most of the point, except for a highway along the coast. It was not a large city, but Lord Joannis, the regional governor, had chosen it for his seat, and it served as an important garrison and watch point for the coast.

“Good positions would be plentiful,” she said. “And if there’s anyone from your shadow court with greater official influence than Nicol Joannis, you never told me their name. I should be safer there than in any other city. Unless you believe Dedrick gave away Joannis.”

“Dedrick knew nothing about him. Therefore …”

“Therefore we guess that Lord Khandarr has learned nothing since. What about Benno?”

“Benno swears Markus used no magic on him. We cannot be certain, of course, but every choice carries its own risk.” He traced a route along the Gallenz River, then southeast, through the hills, to the point next to Osterling’s name. “Three weeks by coach, following the highway. Ten days by an adventurous horseman—if that horseman has a change of mounts, and isn’t afraid of cutting through swamps and hills and wilderness.”

“Are you adventurous?”

“At times.” His finger edged closer to hers. “And it would comfort me to know you were not half a continent away. What do you say?”

She drew a long breath, considering the matter. “Osterling. Yes. That would be good.”

* * *

BY UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT, they left further plans for another week. In between weapons drills and managing the pleasure house, they gave themselves over to the silent exploration of each other’s bodies. Something of their mood bled through the rest of the pleasure house. Eduard and Mikka quarreled, Johanna wept between customers, and Nadine turned a closed face to the world. Even Kathe showed signs of prickliness.

“Will you change your name?” Raul asked her at breakfast.

Ilse paused in drinking her coffee. “Should I?”

“I don’t know. It might give you some scant privacy. On the other hand, if Khandarr’s spies track you down, changing your name implies you wished to hide something.”

She considered it a moment. “I’ll keep my name. Better if he thinks I’m acting openly.”

Raul nodded. “You are Ilse Zhalina, then. Lately of Tiralien and now seeking employment in Osterling Keep. Shall I write a letter of recommendation?”

They both smiled tentatively.

“The next point,” Raul said. “Why are you leaving me?”

Ilse blew out a breath. “Because of me. Something I did.”

“No,” he said roughly. “Not that.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Ilse studied her coffee cup, as though she might find answers in its dregs. What might drive two lovers apart? It could not be a sudden thing, or Khandarr would disbelieve it at once. It would have to be a difference rooted in her nature and Raul’s, something they could not overcome with logic or debate or simple passion.

“Children,” she said abruptly. “I wanted my own children.”

Raul visibly paled. “That’s … a very good reason. So we start a rumor that you became disgusted with my shortcomings.”

“Not disgusted,” she said hurriedly. “Frustrated, perhaps.”

His gaze flicked toward hers, then away. “I could understand that.”

Another silence, while Raul rubbed his hands together. Ilse instinctively reached toward him, but let her hand drop. We have only got to the truth by telling lies, she thought, watching his face as his expression grew more remote.

“Raul …” she said softly.