They were good to us, like comrades, Ada said. It would be a shame if we had to fight them in war.
War. It hovered like thunderclouds on the horizon. Perhaps that was the reason for their long, long journey. Kosenmark did not sail without purpose, as some of the guards believed. No, he sent his people to wander, so they might report what the ordinary folks, in cities, towns, and around the countryside, said about Armand of Angersee and his war, and to confirm the rumors of factions and bickering in Duenne’s Court. Sitting alone in his cabin, Gerek could foresee two very different courses for Kosenmark and the kingdom.
They are inextricably entwined, after all.
The thought gave him no comfort.
On a dark, moonless night, off the coast between Fuldah and Konstanzien, their ship met a smaller ship—a cutter that had the air of a smuggler. Signals were exchanged by lantern shine. Satisfied, the ship’s master sent word to Lord Kosenmark. Soon Kosenmark, Ada, and Gerek had crossed over to the new ship and climbed aboard.
They reached shore two days later, landing on a lonely spit of land where Gervas waited with four sturdy horses and a string of mules bearing packs. With the proper clothes, they transformed themselves into a company of merchants and started on the final segment of their journey home.
It was late in the evening of a mid-summer’s day, two months since Gerek Hessler inadvertently left, when the four arrived at the stables behind Lord Kosenmark’s grounds. A storm had just passed, the sky overhead was streaked with clouds, and a thick mist hung in the air, burning bright in the dark red glow of sunset.
Gervas and Ada dismounted first. Gerek stifled a groan as he clambered down from his horse. His body ached from scalp to toe. The horse blew a rattling breath, and swung its head around. Gerek rubbed its nose.
“Shall we wait for nightfall, my lord?” Ada asked.
Kosenmark still sat on his horse. He started, as if recalled from a distant dream. “No,” he said. “If we have watchers, they already know we’ve arrived.”
Ada and Gervas collected the gear and headed toward the house. Gerek waited, uncertain. Kosenmark had made no move to dismount. Finally the man glanced down. He smiled, the first Gerek had seen since …
… since almost never.
“Go,” Kosenmark said softly. “And thank you, Gerek.”
Wordlessly, Gerek handed over his reins to a stable hand. His muscles cried out with every step, but he trudged between the sheds and low buildings, to the wide swath of green outside the gates. Three guards stood at watch. They admitted him without challenge or greeting, for which he was grateful.
He passed through the gates into the wild lower gardens. A hush lay over the grounds, a sweet soft quiet of twilight. It was like the pause between one breath and the next, Gerek thought. Between the invocation of magic and its presence. He paused in the middle gardens and breathed in the ripe scent of roses and lilies, the crushed grass beneath his feet. From the house came a rill of incense floating through the air.
Inside that house waited his duties, regular and dull.
(Though not so dull as he had first expected.)
Somewhere, in the kitchen no doubt, Kathe and her mother supervised the preparations for the evening. He had not allowed himself to think of Kathe since landing on Hallau Island.
I must talk with her later. Tomorrow. She will grant me that much, I think.
He followed the lane down the side of the house, slipped past the kitchens, bright and busy with noise, and entered by another door. This wing of the house proved deserted, but from a distance he heard the echo of conversation and music. Nadine’s voice rose in a laughing exclamation, answered by Eduard and another man’s voice. Gerek paused and smiled painfully, thinking of his own first encounter with Nadine. A stranger would see only the glittering exterior of the house. They would not perceive the secret corridors, the sudden trips and traps, the shadows underneath.
Was he sorry he came here?
No. He had done good work, if not the work he had expected.
He turned into the stairwell and climbed to the floor where he had his rooms. As he rounded the corner from the landing, he saw a figure standing far off. A woman, whose height and form were familiar to him, even in the shadows. She turned, and the light from a lamp fell across her face.
Kathe.
Gerek’s heart gave a painful leap. He took three swift steps toward her before doubt stopped him. But Kathe was already running toward him. She took his hands in a fierce grip. Gerek could not trust himself to speak. He could only take in her presence, the warmth and strength of her hands, the brightness of her eyes as she stared back at him with a wondering gaze that called up all manner of hope.
“You’re not in the kitchen,” he said at last.
A fluid sentence that made no sense, and yet said everything he wished. Kathe laughed as if she understood him completely. “No, I’m not in the kitchen. Why should I be?”
There were tears beneath that laughter. He drew her closer. “Kathe, what’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. At least—I hope nothing. I heard you had come. Ada sent word throughout the house. And so I came to say— If you would still like an answer to your question. The one you asked before. And I can’t see why you would. But I have one.” She stopped and met his gaze directly, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She drew a long breath and said, almost steadily, “If you would still like an answer to your question, my answer is yes.”
Yes. She said yes.
All the weariness and doubts tumbled away from him. He was grinning, and saw that foolish grin mirrored in Kathe’s face. For a moment, the briefest sorrow overtook his delight—it was not fair that he should have such joy when Lord Kosenmark had none—but just as quickly, he forgot Kosenmark and the rest of the world in the amazement of his own great happiness.
“Do you still want that answer?” Kathe whispered.
Gerek lifted a hand to her cheek. “Oh, yes. Yes, I do.”
TOR BOOKS BY BETH BERNOBICH
Passion Play
Queen’s Hunt
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Queen’s Hunt is the second title in Beth Bernobich’s epic River of Souls series. The first novel, Passion Play, earned her a coveted Romantic Times Book Award for Best Epic Fantasy in 2010. Her short fiction has been published in Asimov’s, Interzone, Postscripts, Strange Horizons, and Sex in the System, with two pieces—“A Flight of Numbers Fantastique Strange” and “The Golden Octopus”—appearing on the Locus Recommended Reading lists for 2006 and 2008, respectively.
She lives with her husband and son in Connecticut, and you can find her on the Web at www.beth-bernobich.com.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
QUEEN’S HUNT
Copyright © 2012 by Beth Bernobich
All rights reserved.
Maps by Jennifer Hanover
Cover art by Scott Grimando
A Tor Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC
175 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10010
www.tor-forge.com
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Bernobich, Beth.
Queen’s hunt / Beth Bernobich. — 1st ed.
p. cm. — (River of souls ; 2)
“A Tom Doherty Associates book.”
ISBN 978-0-7653-2218-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4299-8546-8 (e-book)
I. Title.
PS3602.E76266Q44 2012
813'.6—dc23
2012011658
e-ISBN 9781429985468
First Edition: July 2012
Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Map of Veraene/Károví
Map of Tiralien City
Map of Osterling Keep
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Tor Books by Beth Bernobich
About the Author
Copyright
Queen's Hunt Page 34
