Queen's Hunt Part 19

Galena shrugged wearily, as if she hardly cared any longer about inns or friends. Valara shook her head but said nothing. She limped from blisters, but she offered no complaints.

Ilse led them back to the main avenue. From there, they hurried along the edge of the riverbank to an open square. A smaller lane at the bottom of the square, mentioned particularly by the baker, looped down the slopes toward the river. Now Ilse understood the woman's distaste. An air of neglect overhung the neighborhood. Damp stained the plaster, the air smelled of urine, and paving stones changed to ankle-deep mud and filth.

Her companions followed her silently to the house Lothar Faulk had once described to her. Ilse motioned for them to stand to one side. She knocked.

Nothing. She knocked again and set her ear against the door.

"You won't find 'em home," said a rusty voice.

Ilse turned to see an old woman peering down from an open window in another house. "Not at home," the woman repeated. Then she laughed, a high creaking laugh. "Sold up three months ago. Said that business turned bad here, and he'd try his luck elsewhere."

"Do you know where?" Ilse said.

"No. But for a man with such terrible business, he whistled and sang a great deal. Are you wanting a room for tonight, lady?"

It was tempting. She might question the woman about Raul's late agent. But it was equally likely the woman had been set to watch any visitors. She gave a friendly smile and shook her head. "Thank you, but no."

The old woman muttered something about dirty beggars and slammed the shutters closed. Ilse skirted around the corner, to where Galena and Valara waited out of sight.

"Your friend's friends were not so lucky for us," Valara said.

"He has other friends. But I think we should try another town. We can find a bed for tonight, then head for Gutell tomorrow." They would buy new clothes and good packs before they left Emmetz. They didn't want to attract more attention.

They retraced their path up the hillside. In the brief interval since they arrived, the sun had disappeared behind the hills. Twilight flooded the streets, making them appear all alike. Ilse thought she remembered the way back. There had been a couple quick turns, then a pair of stairs leading up to the more public avenues.

A wrong turn brought them into a maze of pa.s.sages, overhung with looming blank walls. Not their first wrong turn, Ilse thought as she surveyed their surroundings.

"We should have followed that other street to the left," she said.

Galena sniffed. "We're close to the river. I can smell it."

"Do we go back?" Valara said.

"Yes, and quickly," Ilse replied. "We don't want to spend the night in the streets."

Especially these streets. She disliked their emptiness, and her hand found her sword hilt.

Her suspicions were confirmed when she turned around to see a shadow blocking their path. It was a boy, all bones and ragged hair. Scars stood out pale against his dusky complexion, and he had the scattering of a beard. He held a knife in one hand, its blade pointed upward. His gaze flicked over Valara, then settled on Ilse. "I saw your money," he said. "Drop your purse on the ground, and you won't mind what comes next."

Ilse exchanged a glance with Galena.

"Thieves," she murmured, drawing her sword.

Galena already had hers in hand. "Hungry ones."

What happened next came so quickly, Ilse could not separate cause from result.

Half a dozen figures swarmed from the building on their left. Six or seven more blocked the street behind them. Most of them were older boys, but several were hardly more than children, and there was one girl with a swollen belly. All of them were skinny, their eyes like dark pits in their faces. All of them carried sticks and knives.

Galena slashed at the gang leader's face. The boy flung his arm up and ducked away in time. The others charged. Ilse parried with her sword and backed up against the closest wall. All her old drill patterns came to her without thinking. Block. Parry. Block again and thrust. Twice she took hard blows that made her gasp and lose the pattern, but these were not trained fighters.

Merely desperate ones. Their numbers could make up for skill. One blow to her head, one slash at her eyes, and she would die.

She glanced around, trying to find her companions. Valara had called up a wall of fiery magic. A double signature hung in the air-the dark of a fox, the cold bright of starlight. Good. Ilse whispered the summons, but she needed all her concentration for the fight, and the current wavered.

Off to one side, Galena's blade flashed through the twilight. The youngest of the children scattered. One boy fell in a heap, stunned, another boy dropped, clutching his stomach. "Run!" Galena shouted.

With a flurry of blows, Ilse drove through her attackers. Together she and the others pelted toward the next street. If they could gain a few moments alone, she and Valara might combine their magic. They skidded around another corner. Valara stumbled. Ilse dragged her to her feet, but the gang was already upon them.

Galena gave a shout for help. Several shutters overhead were flung open. They immediately shut with a bang. Ilse swung around, looking for her companions. A hand grabbed her by the shoulder and flung her backward. The gang leader, blood streaming from his face, swung his knife high to strike.

Five strangers burst onto the scene. Four plunged into the ma.s.s of boys, sending them scattering with blows and sword thrusts. One-a powerfully built man-leapt past his companions to seize the gang leader's arm. His knife arced through the air. The boy crumpled into a b.l.o.o.d.y heap. But the man did not release his hold until he'd bent over the boy and touched his throat. Then he lifted his gaze to Ilse's.

It was Raul Kosenmark.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

FOR A MOMENT, Ilse could only stare at Raul. Seven months. More than seven months since we were last together.

There was nothing of the lord about him today. His hair was tied back into a tight queue. He wore loose mud-stained trousers; dirty, scuffed boots; and a dark gray shirt that made him almost invisible in the twilight. Utterly plain. Very practical. He might have been a soldier, a robber, or a pirate. She wanted to walk directly into his arms and never leave them again. With a sickening effort, she controlled herself.

Raul sheathed his knife and came toward her in three swift strides. He touched her cheek as if to rea.s.sure himself that it was truly her, then glanced around at his guards and the street. "We should go at once," he said. "There is a watch of sorts in the town. Eventually they will notice us."

Only now did Ilse realize the fight had ended. The leader was dead, so were three of his companions. The pregnant girl sprawled on her back, groaning. Several others lay motionless. Ilse could not tell if they were dead as well, or unconscious. She glanced down at her b.l.o.o.d.y hands. Her shirt was b.l.o.o.d.y, too. She vaguely remembered stabbing one of the boys.

One of Kosenmark's people pulled Galena to her feet. Galena looked dazed, her clothes were b.l.o.o.d.y and torn, but she was alive. Valara appeared untouched, unmoved, as she observed the scene. Ilse shivered at the blood and Valara's indifference. Her own pulse beat erratically, and she tasted a sourness at the back of her throat.

I've killed a man before. Blood should not make me so squeamish.

A man, but not boys.

The warmth of Raul's hand on her shoulder steadied her. He took a flask from his belt and handed it to her. It was good red wine, undiluted. She drank and felt warmth flood her body. She took a second, smaller swallow and gave the flask back. When he tilted his head in question, she nodded. I am fine. I will survive.

Raul turned back to Galena and Valara. "Are you wounded?" he asked Galena. She stood slightly askew with one hand held over her ribs.

Galena's chin jerked up and she stared. It was his voice-a woman's contralto voice from the throat of a man. Ilse could see the clues fitting themselves together from the girl's rapidly changing expression. A n.o.ble's accent. A man whose reputation had spread throughout the kingdom. Even Galena had heard of Lord Kosenmark. She straightened up with a wince and saluted. "No, sir. I mean, my lord. One of them knocked me in the ribs. It hurts, but not so bad."

Raul smiled at her. His gaze pa.s.sed over Valara as he turned back to speak with his guards.

"Your friend came just in time," Valara said quietly to Ilse. "He is your friend, yes?"

"Who else would rescue us?"

Valara did not answer. She was scanning the guards and Raul Kosenmark with an a.s.sessing gaze. Ilse thought Valara did not consider herself to be rescued. She looked as though she was preparing herself for another interrogation.

She is not so wrong. Raul will not trust her easily. He cannot afford to.

Raul signaled to his guards. They scattered to their posts-two in the lead, two more to guard the rear-and set off through the dark streets. Their pace was soft-footed and quick, but not so quick that Galena could not keep up. They must have scouted the entire town, Ilse thought, because they never hesitated once. Within moments they had left the alleyway behind and were gliding between silent buildings, then down a series of shallow steps to the waterfront.

Raul paused in front of an old wooden building. He sc.r.a.ped his knuckles over the door and whistled a lilting tune in a minor key. After a brief wait, another whistle answered. Raul rapped sharply in a one-two-one rhythm.

The door swung open to show a bulky man whose body filled the frame. Ilse recognized his face. His name was Gervas, and he had come to Kosenmark's household five years ago. Like the rest of the guards, Gervas was dressed in dark gray and black clothing, and in the twilight, he was little more than a looming silhouette except for a thin edge of light reflecting from the short sword in his hand.

"My lord," he said. "Trouble?"

"A bit. Nothing terrible."

Raul led his party inside, past Gervas and a second armed guard. Ilse had the impression of a vast empty s.p.a.ce, the air dank and smelling of wood rot and sludge. She could hear a sucking noise-water against pilings-and the rill of a free-flowing river. In the distance, she made out a pattern of faint gray lines. Cracks in the walls? Shutters? She couldn't tell. They'd reached an abandoned warehouse of sorts. Alesso had delivered her message-that much was clear. When Raul had arrived, and how he had discovered her whereabouts, was not.

She reached out for Raul's arm, only to find he had moved on. He stood a short distance away, speaking to one of his men in a soft, high whisper.

"We have a temporary shelter," Raul said as she came to his side.

"How temporary?" she asked.

"A few hours, no longer. As I mentioned, Emmetz does have a watch of sorts. One of them will eventually discover a few bodies..."

"And those thieves will report us for the reward," Valara said.

Raul regarded her with a slight smile. A leopard's smile, neither safe nor friendly. "They might," he said. "Would you rather I had killed them all?"

"Perhaps. Does that prove your moral superiority?"

He laughed. "An interesting question. Let us discuss the matter in more comfort."

An open staircase in the middle of the room led up to a trapdoor. Raul whistled a different tune. There was an answering whistle, then the trapdoor creaked open. "My lord," said a woman's voice. "We didn't expect you so soon."

"Does that mean Barrent doesn't have our supper ready?"

"He says nearly, my lord. Give us another quarter bell."

She heaved the door to one side, and they climbed through into another empty cavern of a room. Farther off, two men stood around an iron kettle filled with burning coals. The scent of leeks and fish and olive oil wafted toward the newcomers. Raul indicated to Valara and Galena that they should join the others. Ilse was about to follow, when he touched her arm.

"One moment," he murmured in her ear. "I need a word alone with you."

He took her through another door into a smaller chamber lit by moonlight from an open window. Blankets and gear were stacked in one corner. Outside, a balcony ran the length of the building, and stairs zigzagged down to the alleyway below, where another pair of guards patrolled. The sight reminded Ilse of the previous summer, when Raul had hired scores of new guards because of his private war with Markus Khandarr.

That war never ended. It never will, until one of them dies.

And even death was no guarantee.

Raul shut the door and whispered the invocation to magic. A sharp green scent rolled through the air, the scent of crushed gra.s.s and wildflowers. He spoke a second phrase and silence closed around them.

Ilse turned. In the moonlight, Raul's eyes were like shining golden disks. Underneath the scent of magic came the sharper scent of blood, both from his clothing and hers. Ilse felt a tug deep within. There was something wrong in this painful spurt of desire, but she had no wish to suppress it just now. And yet she found it impossible to move, to do more than stare at him from across the room.

His mouth curved into a smile. "Are you hungry?"

Ilse laughed weakly. "Oh yes."

His words, her laughter, released her from inaction.

She walked toward him into his embrace. It was not necessary to kiss. The warmth of his body, the pressure of his arms around her, the scent of wood smoke and cedar and sweat, a scent that was entirely his. She held him tightly. The shirt's cloth felt wonderfully rough against her cheek. Through the fabric, she heard the rapid beat of his heart. I love him. I always have. In lives before and times long ago. Today and now. Through all my future days.

Raul buried his face into her hair. "Your message came to me last week. Unfortunately, Khandarr set a watch on my house. It took several days before I could arrange matters to escape without his notice."

At first she could only take in his presence, his arms holding her tightly, and his voice, which was like an invocation to a different kind of magic. But then the meaning of his words broke through. "It came only last week? But-"

"Last week," he repeated. "Six days before that came a report you had died."

She pressed harder against him. Felt him trembling. Oh my love.

His lips brushed her cheeks. His breath feathered her hair, as he continued. "I had word that our usual channels were not to be trusted. I went immediately to Aschlau, then sent my best trackers to sweep the hills. They sighted you when you came into Emmetz. As soon as I got word, I ... I hurried."

Hurried. Such a lovely, ordinary word. She wanted to laugh again, but tears choked her voice, and it took a few moments before she could say anything close to sensible. "I am so glad you did," she said. "Let me tell you more."

He gave her the flask again. She drank sparingly, because she did not want the wine to muddle her thoughts, and quickly told him about Valara, from their first encounter in the pleasure house, to their flight through Osterling's streets, to their confrontation with the soldiers and how Valara killed them with magic. She went on to describe Valara's attempted escape and her subdued behavior since.

Throughout, Raul listened without interruption. When she was done, he considered a moment, then asked, "What about the ship? Do you still believe we should give her aid?"

She blew out a breath. "I don't know. But I believe it would be a terrible mistake to leave her to Khandarr or Leos Dzavek. Morenniou has one jewel. Dzavek and Khandarr both would use this woman as a hostage to obtain it, which means war between all our kingdoms. However, I've promised nothing so far, only that you would listen to her. In return she must listen to you."

"Fair enough," he said. "What else must I know before we return to the others?"

What warning could she give? All her impressions, beliefs, and second thoughts flashed through her mind. There was so much she wanted to tell him, but in the end one quality stood out from the rest. "She lies," she said simply. "Every moment. You cannot trust her."

"How interesting." He shook with silent laughter. "We should deal famously then. What is the truth behind her stories, do you think?"

She shook her head. "Better that you listen and make your own judgment."

"Which is a judgment itself. Nevertheless, I see what you mean. I shall be cautious."

His hand brushed against her hair. Ilse tilted her face up to see him studying her. Moonlight picked out silver at his temples. She wondered what other changes the past seven months had worked within and without the man. She wondered what changes he had remarked in her.

I shall have to tell him about Alesso.

Not yet. Not when they had found each other again.

She laid a hand on his chest, closed her eyes, and tried to reach for a calm and focus she did not possess in the moment. Raul had sensed the change in her mood, because he loosened his embrace. "Come," he said. "We'll eat our supper and head north. Then we can talk with our queen."

WITHIN TWO HOURS, they had crossed the river by the nearest fording and left Emmetz behind for the rain-wet fields beyond. They marched in single file along a muddy goat track, which rose slowly from the riverbanks to the lower slopes of the northern hills. The company kept to an easy pace, with frequent stops, but Raul did not call a halt until several hours later, when they had gained the edge of a pine and oak forest.