Rune King

"That's fine, but you remember that." He got up and walked around beside her. He had a mannish, earthy smell that she picked up on as he came closer, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

She tried not to want him to give her space, tried not to panic from it. Whatever was about to happen, she had to grit her teeth and bear it, because if she didn't then she was a dead woman.

"I've done a lot of thinking." His voice was low, now. Nobody outside could have heard it. It made her knees wobble. "You are useful to me, as a healer. But what if you could be more useful?"

Deirdre closed her eyes and prayed that this wasn't about to happen.

"What if you were to be my spy, instead of theirs? That could be useful, couldn't it?"

Deirdre's heart skipped a beat. That hadn't been what she expected to happen, and it made her mind race. What if she'd wanted it to? What if she was going crazy? Why had her mind gone straight to— to that?

She tried to answer, tried to soothe his ego. That's such a wonderful idea, she tried to say, or

Whatever you demand, my Lord. But her throat was dry and tight and she couldn't get the words to come.

"Why don't you earn their trust with a little bit of information? Why not tell them that when Gunnar arrives, I've got a plan to deal with him, and there's nothing that they can do about it?"

"What?"

"Tell them this. That I've learned the secret of how to hurt him, how to hurt him for real. And that when the time comes, it's not going to be a little scratch on his stomach or a little poke in his ribs. Tell them that I'm going to kill him, and that they're going to watch."

Her mind raced. "If I say that, they'll want to know how."

"You don't know how I'll do it, but you know that I have a poison that can kill him."

She turned, conscious once more of their closeness. "You don't mean—"

"It would be very upsetting for them, I think, and especially for Gunnar, if they were to find out where I had gotten that information. They might think that you were in league with me this whole time, and that would certainly be a shame."

She could see it in his eyes. He wanted her, wanted to reach his hand out and touch her, and the only reason that he didn't was that he was holding himself back. She took a step away, hoping that the distance would rein him in further.

He smiled, called in the boy, who came in and started to guide her out, his hand on the small of her back. Valdemar called to her softly as she was guided out.

"Make sure that you don't make any mistakes, I'd hate to see you in distress!"

And then she was out again, and the question burned in her mind, what she was going to do to get out from under his thumb.

It wasn't remotely pleasant to ride, but the horse was ultimately a good one, he had to admit. It wasn't hard to see where they were going, now; they must have decided that he wasn't following any more, or perhaps things had gotten a little bit tense with the raiding party.

In either case, they cut a thick swath through the forest, now. Anyone could have seen that someone—or, more pointedly, many someones—had been through the area. Gunnar's concern now was trying to stay far enough away that he wouldn't get spotted right away.

He was skirting wide when he saw that they'd stopped a bit early. Earlier than he would have, certainly. The question of why didn't worry him nearly so much as the fact that he couldn't afford to show up with the sun as high in the sky as it was.

There must have been something to it, and Gunnar couldn't entirely shake the fear that the reason had everything to do with him. He needed to make sure that he wasn't walking into a trap, and that meant taking things slowly.

He made two circles, one at the edge of the clearing, trying to stay out of sight, and the second further out. Nothing, and that worried him.

So the answer, the only answer he could see, was to think about their next move. They were heading more-or-less straight, and had been for days. They'd even passed by smaller towns in their movements. Not surprising, given Valdemar's desire for the greatest glory.

No, he'd much rather lay siege to a big city, Gunnar thought. Even if he could only make it into the outskirts before being routed, he would think that would be that much better. Foolish, but predictable.

So it made sense to get a day's start on them and see what they would find. He set the horse going in the right direction and let it go, keeping himself down and tight for fear of falling from its back. Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. He'd been concerned for no reason. A half-hour of nothing. Three quarters.

He was so surprised to find something that he nearly rode straight through the camp before he realized what he was seeing. The men weren't particularly well-set for a night out in the wild, but then they were natives. Perhaps they had no special fear for rain. Perhaps they were so used to rain that they didn't worry about it.

But even without tents, he could see them going back until the trees were too thick to see through. There must have been a hundred of them, or more.

Thanks to his hesitation and his poor handle of the horse, he stood still, high atop his horse, for a long time. Both of them looking at each other, each as surprised as the other.