final troop selections. Weapons and supplies and gear. Dzavek wanted no blunders with this undertaking. He would not be denied again, he said. That explained several points in retrospect, Karasek thought. The contradiction between Dzavek’s meticulous plans and his extraordinary decree that Karasek should return the same day he located the emerald. It also explained the inclusion of Anastazia Vaček.
The last day at sunrise. They were on the point of launching the ships when Dzavek appeared with Anastazia Vaček at his side. “Your second in command,” he’d said.
Vaček had smiled and bowed. “My lord, I look forward to serving you and our king. We have the most satisfying orders.”
Two commanders. Two sets of orders. What promises had Dzavek extended to Anastazia Vaček that gave her such an expression of hungry delight?
Dzavek’s shuttered face had yielded no clues. After dismissing Vaček, he took Karasek to one side. “Remember the spells I gave you for launching the ships through the barrier. Do not discuss them with anyone. Not even Anastazia Vaček.”
Secrets within secrets within bloody secrets.
At departure, Dzavek passed along the lines of soldiers and sailors and touched his hand to each person’s mouth, Karasek’s last of all. Eyes closed, he still felt Dzavek’s dry fingers on his lips, still heard the king’s inarticulate murmur. His thoughts winged back to his companions. Whoever survived the battle would die before they betrayed their true mission. Discretion at a cost.
The moon had already reached its zenith. The night was spinning toward dawn. Karasek rose to his feet. Once more he checked the emerald’s pouch. All secure. With one last glance toward the south, he set off for Károví.
CHAPTER SIX
AFTER GALENA ALIGHERO left, Ilse collapsed onto the couch and stared at the ceiling.
Oh, Raul. We never expected this.
All their plans had centered around Armand of Angersee and his ambitions. Even Raul’s newest idea—to approach certain Károvín nobles and enlist their support—had at its heart the goal of dissuading Armand from war. They had not taken into consideration Leos Dzavek’s plans separate from Veraene. More important, they had forgotten about Morennioù.
I wonder if Leos Dzavek has forgotten anything in four hundred years.
She tried to imagine such a life. His brother killed in the first war. His promised bride reportedly executed as a spy. All his subsequent attempts to build a family ending in their death, while Dzavek lived on for centuries. What must he be like now?
She rubbed her knuckles against her eyes. Dzavek was not her concern. His ships and their mysterious mission were.
I have to get word to Raul. He must know before he talks to anyone in Károví.
The regional governor immediately came to mind. Nicol Joannis had corresponded with Raul in secret for years. Surely he could revive those channels. Surely he would want to, for such important news. The only difficulty was how to speak with him, without provoking suspicion, but Galena herself had provided the means. Ilse could pretend to plead her friend’s case. Once there, she could tell Lord Joannis about the escaped officer, then turn the discussion to Raul.
Abruptly her weariness left her. She hurried to her desk and dashed off a note to Lord Joannis, asking for a private interview. She sealed the message with wax and magic, gathered up her report for Mistress Andeliess, and took them both downstairs.
Mistress Andeliess kept her office on the ground floor, in a quiet wing opposite the various public rooms. Ilse delivered her monthly report and spoke a few moments with her employer. On her way back, she stopped one of the house runners and gave him the letter for Lord Joannis. Watching the man disappear through a side door, she felt a flutter beneath her ribs.
There. I have done it.
She had no idea what his response might be. Of all the members of Raul’s former shadow court, she knew him the least. Raul had always said that Nicol Joannis disliked the court’s secrecy, however much he agreed with its motives. Still, he might consent to send a message to Raul, if only as a favor to an old and trusted friend.
Restless, she turned into the common room, which was bright and noisy at this hour. Gilda and Ysbel had started a drinking game with some wealthy farmers. Several younger men lay entwined on a couch—she could not tell client from courtesan there—and off in a corner, Luisa attempted to strum her guitar, in spite of two soldiers who took turns trying to unbutton her gown. Kitchen girls and boys appeared