start a war with Veraene?”
That provoked a harsh laugh, broken off. “Oh no.”
Raul took in the man’s military bearing, his reticence, and came to his own conclusions. “You are the king’s soldiers. You came here for a purpose, and she is no longer here. Never mind whether I am right or not. Tell me— No, do not tell me anything except this—did your commander give you further orders?”
The other man hesitated, then said, “No.”
Kosenmark released a breath—the moment of trust had come—and slowly lowered his sword. “A truce then. Agreed?”
The Károvín nodded. “Agreed.”
There was the usual grumbling but soon enough, both sides withdrew, Károvín on one side of the square, Veraenen on the other, the dead and wounded scattered in between. The Károvín leader made a quick inspection of his people, then returned. “My name is Grisha Donlov,” he said. “Captain Donlov. Do you need a mage-healer?”
“Mine is Raul Kosenmark. Yes, we do.”
The aftermath took much longer than the battle itself. The Károvín and Veraenen worked together to sort out the dead and wounded. Katje had died in the first onslaught, as had Johannes and two of the fishermen. Detlef had taken a sword thrust to his belly. He would not survive the night, the Károvín healer told Raul. She was more a soldier than a healer, older than Raul, but only by a few years. For the dead, she called down the magic current to turn each body into ashes. For those who lived and suffered, she stayed by their sides to give such comfort as she could.
Raul visited each of his own wounded. The tally was less than he had feared. Gervas had taken a blow to the head, but other than a temporary deafness, he would be fit for duty the next morning. Others had bruises or cuts, which he or the Károvín healer dealt with. He checked over the dead twice. There was no sign of Ilse Zhalina or Valara Baussay.
Near the end, he came to the body of a young woman, dressed in secondhand clothes from his own stores, with a helmet set askew. The Károvín had carried her into the plaza from down the avenue.
Galena Alighero.
Her face was slick with blood. More blood soaked her clothes. Raul counted a dozen wounds on her body. She had fought on despite them. It was the deep gash across her throat that had bled her dry.
Raul touched the cold cheek. It was bare of any mark. Even as he took his fingers away, he felt the fading signature of Nicol Joannis of Fortezzien.
Death wipes all dishonor, Raul thought. Even yours, Nicol.
“She fought against all of us together,” the Károvín healer said. “Back there. We might have taken you if she had not held us back.” In a softer voice, she added, “She died bravely.”
* * *
THE SHIP WITH Gerek Hessler and Alesso Valturri arrived off the coast, five days past the appointed time. They had spent three days, at least, skirting around the royal fleet, another day evading a mysterious single ship, sighted on the horizon. Only after they spent an entire day without further sightings did the captain and Gerek consent to head toward Hallau’s shore.
Alesso had borrowed a glass from the captain, and he swept the coast for several long moments before he spoke. “Empty.”
His tone was impossible to read. “What do you mean, empty?” Gerek demanded.
“Just that. Nothing and no one on shore.”
Gerek snatched the glass and made his own examination. Though the captain warned them what to expect, the sight unnerved him. The city blackened and ruined. Empty. The wharves a desolate expanse of broken stone. As the ship slanted toward the coast, he glimpsed a small, one-masted boat tucked into a hiding spot, but no sign of the promised signals.
“What next?” Alesso said.
Over the past ten days, Alesso and the captain both had showed more respect than Gerek felt he deserved. And yet someone had to make decisions. “We send a launch to shore with six men,” he said. “You choose your followers. Make sure they are well-armed.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “I-I should go, too.”
It was a strange and silent journey to the wharf. The crew landed them neatly beside the other boat, which rocked in the waves, its single sail fluttering in the breeze. No one was on deck. As a precaution, Gerek sent Alesso over to search the small cabin.
“No one on board,” Alesso reported. “But no sign of any fight.”
Then one of the crew sniffed the