Allegiance (River of Souls 3)

They reviewed the route, which Jannik drew in the dirt by the campfire, then arranged watches. Jannik would take the first, Ilse the second. It would not be necessary to stand guard after midnight. Brigands liked their sleep as well as anyone, he said, and Ilse did not argue. She rolled herself into her blankets and fell at once into sleep.

Jannik woke her several hours later. The moon hovered directly overheard, a bright full moon that flooded the scene with its eerie light. Ilse scrubbed the sleep from her eyes. She was thinking they had made a mistake, camping in the open like this. Or was that Raul’s influence? Raul had always approached every situation as though it were a military affair.

“No trouble,” Jannik said.

“So glad to hear it,” Ilse said.

He laughed softly. “Watch for an hour or two, then sleep. We make an early start tomorrow.”

She staggered to her feet, fully awake now from the chill. She blinked and took in the bowl of bare dirt and grass, now beautiful in the moonlight, the blue-black trees edged in silver. Lovely, that is, if you disregarded the bitter cold and the possibility of soldiers in pursuit. Duska stood motionless off to one side, dozing on her feet. Bela was a dark oblong in her blankets, Jannik another.

Ilse checked her weapons, buttoned her quilted jacket to

her chin, and set off to walk the camp’s perimeter. Though the season was late summer, her breath hung in white clouds, and her boots crunched over the frosted grass. She found herself glad of Duke Karasek’s insistence on supplying them with adequate gear. Without that gear, without Bela, she would not have survived the long trek across Károví’s plains.

Her thoughts winged back to Taboresk. Three weeks had passed since she and Bela had fled into the wilderness. Three weeks since Miro Karasek abandoned his title and his home to bring Valara Baussay to her kingdom.

Are you happy now? she thought. You and Valara Baussay?

Another impossible question to ask.

She swung around for a new circuit and paused at the unmistakable sound of footsteps over frozen grass. She quietly drew her sword from its sheath and murmured an invocation to the gods and magic.

What came next depended on who approached their campsite. Hunters and trappers often traversed the mountains in the autumn, searching for game. A reasonable explanation, except ordinary folk made their camps by nightfall. They did not wander about in the dark. Enemies, then. Most likely the king’s patrol from Dubro. Or they might be mages in truth, sent by the Dukes Markov and Cernosek.

Before she could think what to do, a familiar voice called out, “Ilse. Ilse, it’s me. Damek.”

Damek. Ilse let her breath trickle out. Of course. Stupid, stupid boy. What in Lir’s name were you thinking?

She slid her sword back into its sheath. Resisted the urge to knock her head against the nearest tree trunk. “What do you want?”

A short pause, as if she had asked something blindingly obvious.

I suppose I have.

“Let me talk to you,” Damek said. Then, with some hesitation, “Is Jannik there? Is he awake?”

“He is here. No, he is not awake. Not yet.” Ilse stood up. She glanced toward the speaker, saw the gleam of moonlight reflected from his open eyes. She nodded at him. He nodded back. Good. On this they agreed. Get Damek into the camp where they could muzzle him until Jannik could drag the boy back to Ryz.

She stirred up the fire and waited, impatiently, until Damek emerged from the darkness. He wore a thick quilted jacket over layers of clothing and carried a pack.

Ilse pointed at the spot near the fire. Damek obediently sat. His eyes were wide, and there was a stubborn lift to his chin. He flinched when Jannik sat up, flinched again when Bela threw off her blankets and rolled over.

“Talk,” Ilse said. “Why are you here?”

“Karel said you ran away.”

Ilse suppressed a growl. “I am going home. Not running away.”

“But Karel said—”

“Karel Hasek is an idiot.”

“He knows about you and the smugglers,” Damek said, his voice low and stubborn. “I wanted to come with you. I know all the trails. I know everything Ilja knows.”

Ilse slapped her hand against her thigh. “You know nothing, Damek. Go home. We do not want you with us.”

It was as harsh as she could make it. Damek shrank back. His gaze flicked toward Bela, who grinned at him sardonically, then Jannik, whose face had turned into a mask. “I only wanted to help.”