Alesso and the captain were both staring at him. He felt a bit shaken himself. He handed the letter to the captain, who read it through quickly. Gerek watched as a series of emotions passed over the man’s face—surprise, curiosity, and a measure of unease. “You have your orders, with one difference,” Gerek told him. “If our companions fail to show, you take your further instructions from me.”
And Lir help us if that happens.
But he would consider that difficulty later. For now, he only wanted to depart as swiftly as the winds allowed. “How soon can you set sail? At once?”
“The next tide,” the man answered. “Within the hour.”
“Then do it.” To Alesso’s unspoken question, he added, “We don’t have time to disembark. As you said, the ports will close any moment. Besides, you and I know too much.”
* * *
THE SHIP’S SURGEON saw to Gerek’s injuries at once. After that, though the hour was early, the captain fed them well at his table, while the crew ordered a cabin for their use. After they had dined, Alesso remained with the captain and Kosenmark’s two guards to discuss a course that would keep them away from any other ships. Gerek retired to their cabin. It was small—barely wide enough for two hanging cots, and a couple sea chests stacked in one corner. A covered lamp swung from its chain, sending a ripple of light and shadow over the walls.
Gerek climbed awkwardly into the cot nearest the porthole. Dinner and a quantity of good wine had done much, but his jaw still ached, and every movement reminded him of the slash across his chest. Tomorrow he would see the ship’s surgeon again for another application of herbs. Now … now he wanted nothing more than to lie quietly.
No, that was not the truth. The truth was that he wished himself back in Tiralien, in his own snug rooms. He wished for a quiet dinner, a book to read. He wished …
I wish I had one more chance to speak with Kathe.
That would come later. How much later, he did not know. It was the old conundrum of the magical journey, where you could not reach home before traveling through all the rest of the worlds first. Well, he did not have to travel through all the worlds, just to Hallau Island and Lord Raul Kosenmark. It was a long enough voyage, for all that, he thought and yawned.
He fell asleep to the creaking of the rigging and the rush of water against the ship.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THROUGHOUT THE NEXT ten days, Ilse and Raul and their companions traveled as a military company. It was an aspect of Raul that Ilse had never suspected before. She had known him as a sophisticated nobleman, trained in matters of state, someone gifted in both conversation and weaponry. She had not considered he knew anything about wilderness travel and commanding soldiers.
“I learned from my father,” Raul said, when she asked. “He had served as a garrison commander in his younger days. Later, he found it useful to maintain a private company. They patrol the more remote regions of Valentain, and deal with smugglers along the coast. I served under our senior officers for a while, then led my own squad the year before I left for Duenne.”
“I never guessed,” Ilse murmured. “Though I should have.”
Raul’s mouth tilted into a smile. “It would be terrible, if you had guessed everything about me within a few months. It leaves us nothing for the future.”
The future. Which would be delayed for three years.
Her eyes stung with tears. She had not allowed herself to weep these past two weeks. She wanted to remember this interval with joy, a secret treasure to hold tight throughout her exile. Raul guessed her mood, but in silent agreement, he, too, never spoke of their coming separation. For the most part, they kept their conversation on the present—the hills turning green and golden with the advancing season, the logistics for setting up camp. Even that mention of his childhood was brief.
It was too much like their last hours in Tiralien, she thought.
“Until forever,” Raul murmured.
She glanced toward him sharply. He did not meet her gaze, but she could tell that his thoughts echoed hers.
Until forever, yes. He had promised that once. He was a man who kept his promises.
They had eight more days together, she told herself. Then a temporary exile. At least its ending lay within her control. She had but to find the third