Queen's Hunt (River of Souls 2)

* * *

EVENTUALLY THEY GAVE over lovemaking and conversation and slept, slept until morning broke over the Gallenz hills. Ilse rolled onto her back and stared upward. A circle of sunlight illuminated the canvas above. Patches of shadow, however, covered one end of the tent. Midmorning or later, she guessed. Outside, she heard the guards discussing what to forage for the midday dinner.

She closed her eyes and lay quietly, listening to Ada Geiss and Theo bickering quietly over who had responsibility for the latrines. She recalled nothing of her dreams, ordinary or otherwise. Had she traveled beyond them, or had exhaustion overrun any warnings from her past?

Except you dreamed of him, of Dzavek, just the night before.

Raul stirred. His hands reached toward her.

“You are awake.”

“I slept enough.”

A flicker of tension passed over his face.

“Is that true?”

She wanted to lie, to smile and say all was well, but his proximity, the nearness of himself and their reunion, made that impossible.

“No,” she whispered. “How could I? We have a few weeks and then…”

His eyes, inches from hers, were wide and bright. “Then we must do our best to secure the right promises from your queen.”

He rose and pulled on his shirt and trousers. Ilse dressed in her new clothes and brushed out her hair with a comb he produced from one of the packs. It was, she noted, her favorite comb from her days in Tiralien. She thought she had packed the item before she departed the first time. Its unexpected reappearance unsettled her.

“Are you ready?” Raul asked.

She nodded.

A substantial breakfast awaited them, provided by the morning cook detail. Camp bread. Porridge flavored with spices and dried fruit. The coffee was fresh this time. Most of the guards had eaten already and separated to their various tasks, including Galena, whom Detlef had assigned to a foraging expedition. Valara had not yet shown herself.

She’s not certain what to expect from us, Ilse thought.

Her guess was confirmed when Valara emerged from her tent. Her face and manner were wary, and she spoke only briefly in response to Ilse’s greeting. However, she politely accepted a plateful of food and mug of coffee from one of the guards.

Raul paid Valara no attention at first. While the three of them ate, he sorted through orders with Detlef. Katje and Theo would hire horses in Emmetz and ride back to Tiralien. “They leave within the hour,” he said. “I will write a letter with instructions for Maester Hessler.”

Valara waited until Detlef withdrew to the camp’s perimeter before she spoke. “You agree then?” she said. “About the ship?”

“It depends,” Raul replied, “on our conversation this morning. Whatever its outcome, I will have instructions for my secretary.”

Valara set aside her mug and plate. “Speak then. What more do you want from me?”

Ilse felt the air tremble, as if magic’s current had awakened. If Raul sensed it, he gave no sign. He stared at Valara, his gaze as uncompromising as hers. Both had their faces turned in profile to her. It was then she saw, with a shock of sudden recognition, the resemblance between them. The shape of cheek and jaw. The flat nose. The golden brown complexion. Oh, there were differences, too—the folds at the corner of Raul’s eyelids were almost invisible, his eyes were golden and hers dark, nor was her coloring as fair as his—but it was like the difference between brother and sister.

Was it possible that Valara’s people had sailed west to the continent, centuries ago?

Then Raul stirred and Ilse thrust aside any speculation to listen to what he would say.

“I agree to nearly all your terms,” he said. “However, I have several of my own. First, as Ilse stipulated, you will render all assistance to her so that she might recover Lir’s third jewel. Do not,” he said harshly, as Valara started to speak, “refuse this condition. And do not pretend you can do nothing to help. You spent years searching for the jewels. You recovered one. Even if you could recover the third on your own, your knowledge would aid Veraene to do so. That would ensure a balance between the three kingdoms.”

He paused. Valara’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes were bright with fury. “Go on,” she said roughly.

“You agree?” he asked.

“I say nothing. What are your other conditions?”

“Just two more. In return for your assistance, and to guarantee my part, Ilse Zhalina remains your hostage for one year—”