Queen's Hunt (River of Souls 2)

Galena and her companions drew their swords.

“Watch and wait!”

The clouds had vanished. The sun’s rays now beat against Galena’s back and shoulders. Only a damp wind, rising from the south, and the clear scent of pine, reminded her of the storm. From her position in the file, she could not see much except the sky and the thin line of ocean horizon.

“Pirates?” she whispered to Lanzo.

He shook his head. “You heard them. Károvín.”

She’d heard but not believed. “All that fuss for three ships.”

He grinned, as though he saw beyond her indifference. “It’s not just the three ships. Last week, the king’s patrol sighted twenty ships with Károvín flags off the northern coast. They were sailing east. If they followed the current ’round, these could be the point of that entire fleet.”

Twenty ships. Galena’s mouth went dry at the thought.

“What happened to the others?” she asked.

“We don’t know. I’m worried they decided to double back and take us by surprise—”

“Hush,” whispered Tallo, their file leader.

Muttering died away at once. This was no drill, Galena thought as she examined her blade’s edge. Her sword was sharp. Her other hand rested on her dagger hilt. She was as ready as she knew. But would they fight? And why? Oh, sure, she’d heard rumors about tensions along the border between Veraene and Károví, and her father had muttered about how Armand of Angersee wanted any excuse to launch a war. But Armand hadn’t declared war, and neither had Leos of Károví done anything to provoke one.

She strained onto her toes to see more. All three ships were closer now. She could see dozens of figures hurrying over the decks. The glint of sunlight

on metal. The masts broken and trailing in the water, dragging the ship to one side. There, they’d cut the mast free. The ship righted itself momentarily. She could see some of their faces. Definitely Károvín.

Several boats launched from the nearest ship. Soldiers and sailors dived from the railing into the water.

“What do we do after they land?” Lanzo whispered to Tallo.

“Wait for orders,” Tallo said. “What else?”

Two of the leading boats skimmed over the waves to shore. The Károvín tumbled out and dragged their craft up the sands. As Galena watched, five more shot from behind the other two ships, which tilted heavily to one side. By now, fifty or sixty Károvín had landed. Soldiers, all of them armed and clad in heavy armor. One of them was a tall man. He carried in his arms a young woman clad in layers upon layers of soaking wet robes, which dragged in the receding waves.

The man deposited the woman on the shore above the water line. She struggled, then jerked around to vomit onto the sands. The man placed a hand on her forehead. The air around them shimmered.

Next to Galena, Lanzo uttered a soft exclamation. Magic.

Her skin prickled with remembrance of that unnatural storm, the scent that could not possibly be land-borne, riding the sea wind. She watched intently as the Károvín soldiers gathered on the flat sands. Over a hundred had reached shore. More were landing from the second and third ships. They matched the Veraenen soldier for soldier. And, she noticed, they all wore armor, as though they expected a battle. Or as though they’d come from one.

The man she’d noticed before spoke briefly with his companions. Then he addressed the Veraenen, first in Károvín, next in Veraenen. Galena could not quite make out his words, but they sounded soft and conciliatory. A dissatisfied murmur rose behind the officer. He barked out a command. His soldiers subsided, but she could tell they were unhappy. She wished her file and patrol stood closer, but Falco had mentioned something about not provoking the enemy.

But if they were the enemy, why bother about provoking them? Why not attack?

Commander Zinsar stepped into the clearing between the two parties. Galena had never liked his manner, and she disliked it now. He smirked and smiled and spoke in oily tones. The privates all called him the king’s worm. Galena’s mother, living outside the barracks and working as a scribe, spoke of the man in blunter terms.

The Károvín officer shook his head at something Zinsar said. He made his own reply. Galena could tell by his gestures, and how quickly he spoke, that the Károvín officer wanted something. No, demanded something. Zinsar shrugged. Next came a swift negotiation. She wished she knew what it was about. Her skin itched from sweat and the chafing of her leather guards.

The Károvín soldiers looked no happier than she felt. All of them were sodden from the storm and seas and dragging their boats to shore. Worse. Their eyes were hollow pits in dark lined faces. Many were bruised or bandaged. Underneath the weariness, she sensed a bright tension.

“They look like pirates,” Ranier murmured to Lanzo.

“More like pirates who lost their treasure,” Lanzo murmured back.

“… five hundred gold denier…”

The Károvín’s voice carried across the sands. Galena choked back an exclamation. Was that a bribe?