pleasure from the idea that Garth was jealous of her. She didn”t particularly like Garth; she had
hated his intrusion on her body with his Touch, and she enjoyed the carefully neutral looks he
gave her.
Ishbel was also enjoying—much to her surprise—the journey through the backcountry of
the Central Kingdoms. Previously she had not traveled so much as a mile from Serpent”s Nest,
and this journey to marry Maximilian was literally her first foray into the wider world in her
entire life. She had felt miserable and introspective on the journey from Serpent”s Nest to
Margalit, and from there to Pelemere, and she”d barely taken notice of the lands through which
she traveled.
Now, however, feeling better and somewhat optimistic, Ishbel was interested in the world
and discovered that she was endlessly fascinated by the country around her. She was seeing
aspects of life that she”d only ever heard about previously: even the brief glimpse of a peasant”s
hut through the dark of the night, or the distant vista of a village at twilight, had her peering
curiously over Maximilian”s shoulder, or twisting about on the horse”s back to soak it all in.
She peppered Maximilian with questions, and Lixel and Egalion also, until Egalion
laughed and said even Maximilian had not been this curious about the workings of the world
when he”d been freed from the Veins.
They ate as best they could, mainly the game that members of the Emerald Guard hunted
as the column crept through the night. Occasionally Garth would add wild herbs to the pot, or
Lixel would travel to a town to buy some grain, but they subsisted primarily on meat.
Maximilian grew worried about the effect this might have on Ishbel and the child she carried,
and asked Garth to examine Ishbel, but Ishbel refused, saying only that she felt well and that the
nausea had subsided, which largely it had.
During the day they melted back into the forests, or into deep gullies, or, if they were
very fortunate, abandoned barns with more roof left than not. It was a difficult existence, living
hand-to-mouth, traveling as secretly as they were able, but do it they must.
Sirus did indeed have bands of soldiers out hunting them. Maximilian was well aware
that their abrupt (and unexplainable) escape in the middle of the night would only have
reinforced in Sirus” mind that they were responsible for Allemorte”s death. From the moment he
and Ishbel had left the woodsman”s hut and started west, Maximilian and the Emerald Guard
heard and saw evidence of scouting parties: campsites, tracks, the faint distant sound of many
horses.
But they were never discovered. At times it was close—one night they sat their horses,
utterly still under the branches of a clutch of trees, as a roaming band of soldiers passed within
twenty paces of them—but manage to remain undetected they did. Ishbel supposed that
Maximilian”s—and his eerie Emerald Guard”s—ability to merge with the darkness was largely
responsible for this, but it still did not stop her heart thudding up into her mouth every time they
had to blend into the landscape in order to avoid detection.
Three weeks after leaving Pelemere they drew close to Kyros. Maximilian was certain
Sirus would have informed King Malat of Kyros of what had happened in Pelemere, and that
Sirus believed Maximilian or Ishbel responsible for the murder of Allemorte. But Maximilian
knew Malat far better than he”d known Sirus, and he thought that Malat would want to hear
Maximilian”s version of events before he tossed him in a dungeon. Nonetheless, while
Maximilian was reasonably certain that Malat would give him a fair hearing, he didn”t want to
push his luck too far, or put Malat in the unenviable position of having to justify to Sirus why he
hadn”t instantly imprisoned Maximilian.
One morning, as they”d encamped after a night”s travel, Maximilian drew Garth and
Lixel to one side.
“My friends,” he said, “today Ishbel and I will rest here with the Emerald Guard, but I
would like you to travel ahead, and make our presence known to Malat.”
“What do you think he”ll do?” asked Lixel. The events of the past few months had aged
the man considerably. He”d longed to return to Escator, but had never envisioned making the
journey by the back roads and living off scraps as a fugitive. Once portly and florid, Lixel was a
pale shadow of his former self.
Maximilian smiled. “Feed you first, I imagine. Then he will ask you and Garth for your
version of the events he has heard of from Sirus. Tell him what you know, all you know, and beg
him to understand that neither myself nor Ishbel, nor any other of my party, had a hand in these
murders. Tell him I will swear so on the bodies of my parents, and that if I lie I should be sent
back to another seventeen years in the Veins. Beg him also for a town house somewhere within
Kyros where Ishbel and I, as well as the Emerald Guard, may rest up for a week or so. My wife
is pregnant, and all of us exhausted. We will not impose on his hospitality, and we will keep to
ourselves so that no other may know of our presence, but, oh, for both his understanding and for
some sweet, fresh beds, Malat will earn my undying gratitude.”
They spent an uneasy (and somewhat wet, for it rained the entire time) three days waiting
in the woods a league or so outside Kyros, but when Lixel and Garth returned, the smiles on their
faces told Maximilian all he needed to know.
CHAPTER SIX
Kyros, the Central Kingdoms
They entered Kyros at night by a small gate set into the southern wall of the city.
Someone had been stationed there to keep an eye out for them, for the normally locked gate
swung open as soon as Maximilian and his party rode close, and, as Maximilian rode through, a
man on horseback rode out of an overhang to greet them.
“Maximilian!” the man said, his tone welcoming, if hushed, and held out a hand as he
pulled his horse to a halt before Maximilian”s.
“Borchard,” Maximilian said, taking the man”s hand in his, and offering him a wide,
unforced grin. Borchard was Malat”s eldest son, heir to the throne, and a personal friend of
Maximilian”s. Despite the fact that Lixel and Garth had told him that Malat had been welcoming,
Maximilian still had harbored doubts. To have Borchard here to greet him was the best indication
he”d had yet that Malat would be more welcoming than judgmental.
Borchard turned his attention to Ishbel, sitting behind Maximilian, her hands lightly
clasped to his waist. “And a wife,” he said, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. “Maxel, you never
said she was going to be so lovely.”
He pushed his horse forward a pace, so he could take Ishbel”s hand and kiss it. Borchard
was not a conventionally handsome man, but he had an air of boyish fun about him, and a gleam
of mischievousness in his eyes, that appealed to most women.
Ishbel did not resist his charm. She smiled as Borchard kissed her hand, then glanced at
Maximilian, her smile fading as she saw the sadness in his eyes.
Borchard caught the look and let go Ishbel”s hand. “Maxel,” he said, “we have heard
some of what has happened in Pelemere, and in Margalit before that, and it beggars belief. My
father and I are glad of the chance to hear your version of events. My father begs your
understanding in not being here to greet you, nor even being able to grant you an audience…but,
as I am sure you”re aware, yours is a name spoken with a certain degree of frostiness these days.
I and my companions”—Borchard inclined his head at a group of four or five armed horsemen
waiting to one side—“shall have to provide you with all the company you need.”
There was a perceptible coolness in Borchard”s tone now, and Maximilian realized their
welcome was not quite as guaranteed as he”d first thought.
“A meal and somewhere to rest our weary limbs,” he said, “and we shall be grateful to
relate anything you wish.”
Borchard nodded, then turned his horse about and led them into the city.
He led them to a town house situated in a gated courtyard not far from where they entered
(a fact closely noted by Maximilian, should, gods forbid, he need to make an escape quickly
from this city as well). The town house was a good size, with enough stabling and dormitories
for Maximilian”s entire party, and the kitchens were lit and warm: the courtyard was redolent
with the savory smell of roasting meat wafting out of the open kitchen windows.
“I can hardly thank you and your father enough,” Maximilian said to Borchard as
Maximilian helped Ishbel to dismount. “I”ve been so worried about Ishbel and the strain I”ve put