Passion Play (60 page)

Raul, too, studied the map. Once or twice, he touched a city’s name, shook his head, and let his fingers glide past.

“You have an idea?” Ilse asked him.

“Yes. No. My instincts suggest a city on the eastern coast.” He glanced at her. “However, I suspect those are not instincts, but selfish desire.”

Ilse touched his hand, which hovered close to hers. “Your instincts are not entirely wrong. But I cannot choose a home too close to Tiralien. That might provoke suspicion.”

“Markus will be suspicious no matter what.”

All their discussions came back to that concern. After some debate, Ilse had proposed that she find work as a secretary or clerk. Her newly acquired fortune made it unnecessary, but she wanted to keep her mind and hands busy, and both agreed that would create a more convincing impression of her building a separate life.

Raul made another circuit of the map with his fingers. North. South. The western provinces. “What about Melnek? It might look more natural if—”

“No.”

He breathed a sigh. “It was just a suggestion. You have friends as well as family in Melnek. More important, Baron Eckard resides there. He can provide some measure of protection.”

“I cannot,” she murmured. “Find another way.”

City by city, they examined the map. Matsurian and Tegel, on the southern coast, both had high transient populations, which worked in her favor. But Raul disliked the distance—a month by ship, two months by fast horses. Klee, another port city, was closer, but its sweltering climate often bred contagion, and Raul had no agents or friends or associates there whom he trusted.

Ilse ran her fingers along the coast, past Matsurian and Tegel and Luzzien, until she came to the province marked
Valentain
.

“That remains a choice,” Raul whispered in her ear.

“No,” she said softly. “We must not tempt each other.”

Back to Tiralien then, to examine the cities nearby. Leniz was a garrison town a week’s ride south of Tiralien. Compared to Tiralien, it offered little unless she took up soldiering. North was Idar-Alszen, a market port that served as an interim stop between Melnek and Tiralien. Back south, beyond Leniz to Osterling Keep.

“Osterling,” she said, half to herself.

Raul, who had been studying the northern provinces, glanced up. “What about Osterling?”

Ilse touched the gold circle marking Osterling Keep, which lay between Leniz and Klee, on a point of land jutting into the sea. A range of hills covered most of the point, except for a highway along the coast. It was not a large city, but Lord Joannis, the regional governor, had chosen it for his seat, and it served as an important garrison and watch point for the coast.

“Good positions would be plentiful,” she said. “And if there’s anyone from your shadow court with greater official influence than Nicol Joannis, you never told me their name. I should be safer there than in any other city. Unless you believe Dedrick gave away Joannis.”

“Dedrick knew nothing about him. Therefore …”

“Therefore we guess that Lord Khandarr has learned nothing since. What about Benno?”

“Benno swears Markus used no magic on him. We cannot be certain, of course, but every choice carries its own risk.” He traced a route along the Gallenz River, then southeast, through the hills, to the point next to Osterling’s name. “Three weeks by coach, following the highway. Ten days by an adventurous horseman—if that horseman has a change of mounts, and isn’t afraid of cutting through swamps and hills and wilderness.”

“Are you adventurous?”

“At times.” His finger edged closer to hers. “And it would comfort me to know you were not half a continent away. What do you say?”

She drew a long breath, considering the matter. “Osterling. Yes. That would be good.”

*  *  *

BY UNSPOKEN AGREEMENT
, they left further plans for another week. In between weapons drills and managing the pleasure house, they gave themselves over to the silent exploration of each other’s bodies. Something of their mood bled through the rest of the pleasure house. Eduard and Mikka quarreled, Johanna wept between customers, and Nadine turned a closed face to the world. Even Kathe showed signs of prickliness.

“Will you change your name?” Raul asked her at breakfast.

Ilse paused in drinking her coffee. “Should I?”

“I don’t know. It might give you some scant privacy. On the other hand, if Khandarr’s spies track you down, changing your name implies you wished to hide something.”

She considered it a moment. “I’ll keep my name. Better if he thinks I’m acting openly.”

Raul nodded. “You are Ilse Zhalina, then. Lately of Tiralien and now seeking employment in Osterling Keep. Shall I write a letter of recommendation?”

They both smiled tentatively.

“The next point,” Raul said. “Why are you leaving me?”

Ilse blew out a breath. “Because of me. Something I did.”

“No,” he said roughly. “Not that.”

An uncomfortable silence followed. Ilse studied her coffee cup, as though she might find answers in its dregs. What might drive two lovers apart? It could not be a sudden thing, or Khandarr would disbelieve it at once. It would have to be a difference rooted in her nature and Raul’s, something they could not overcome with logic or debate or simple passion.

“Children,” she said abruptly. “I wanted my own children.”

Raul visibly paled. “That’s … a very good reason. So we start a rumor that you became disgusted with my shortcomings.”

“Not disgusted,” she said hurriedly. “Frustrated, perhaps.”

His gaze flicked toward hers, then away. “I could understand that.”

Another silence, while Raul rubbed his hands together. Ilse instinctively reached toward him, but let her hand drop.
We have only got to the truth by telling lies,
she thought, watching his face as his expression grew more remote.

“Raul …” she said softly.

He nodded absently. “I am here. Thinking. We must convince everyone in this house as well, or our plans are worthless. Let me spend a few evenings away. Lord Vieth invited us to his estates for the hunting season. I’ll go alone.”

“A good idea,” she said carefully. “When you come back, we can have an argument.”

“Very well.” Now he glanced toward her. “Shall I take a lover?”

Again that high fey tone.

“Do you want to?”

“No. Never.”

He reached across the table and gripped her hands.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“Too much,” he said thickly. “Why not marry me and forget the world?”

“Because we are Ilse and Raul. Because we must be true to ourselves.”

*  *  *

RAUL LEFT THE
next morning for two weeks with Lord Vieth and several of the governor’s household. During his absence, Ilse moved all her belongings to her old rooms. Mistress Denk said nothing, except to ask if Mistress Ilse wished any assistance.

“None,” Ilse said, as calmly as she could. “Thank you. I would rather do the work myself.”

She heard whispers, whenever she passed through the public rooms. Stares, quickly averted. Conversations broken off. A sense of unnatural restraint from those she loved the most. Raul had told her they must lie to their friends. She had not realized how difficult it would be.

The worst, the most difficult moments were with Kathe.

“Why did Lord Kosenmark leave without you?” Kathe said.

She had brought Ilse’s supper tray herself. But her manner was odd and awkward, with none of the friendly chatter from before.

“He went hunting,” Ilse said. “Lord Vieth invited him.”

Kathe frowned as she laid out the dishes. “I know that. Why didn’t you go with him?”

“He wanted time alone. To think about Lord Dedrick.”

“Strange,” Kathe murmured. “Not what I expected him to want.”

She curtsied and withdrew, leaving Ilse to pick at her food without any appetite. There was some truth in what she told Kathe. Lord Dedrick’s death was the reason behind this dreadful charade. If Khandarr had not executed him, she and Raul might be together this very moment.

By afternoon she had recovered her nerve. A courier had brought a packet from Melnek. Ilse reviewed the latest papers from her brother. Her share of the inheritance came to twenty-three thousand gold denier. As she had requested, Ehren had sold off several of their farms and deposited the money with Lord Kosenmark’s agent in Tiralien. He had also signed over several other holdings; she would receive the rents and interest quarterly.

I am rich. I could live wherever I wanted.

She had her wish from long ago, when she had lived in her father’s house. The thought made her queasy. She sighed and poured herself a cup of strong tea, then reviewed the list of agents Raul had drawn up. There were three whom Raul recommended as the most reliable—Maester Harro Stangel, Mistress Emma Beck, and Maester Felix Massow. All of them had connections throughout the eastern provinces. Felix Massow had offices in Duenne as well, while Emma Beck had associates near Károví.

Ilse wrote letters to all three, asking for more details about their businesses, and how they might help her to invest her holdings. She secured the letters in her letter box—she would post them after she and Raul had had their first public argument.

Restless, she left her rooms for the rooftop gardens. It was a fair autumn day, the skies a clear dark blue. The seas were choppy, however, and low clouds obscured the eastern horizon. A summer’s day in Melnek is an autumn day here, she thought. What were the seasons like in Osterling?

She heard footsteps—Raul hurrying toward her. He swept Ilse into a tight and breathless embrace. “I came early. I couldn’t wait.”

She leaned against his chest, breathing in his scent. Horse and sweat and leather and musk. Him. Exactly him. “I’m glad. What did you say to Lord Vieth?”

“That I was ill with longing for you.”

She could almost laugh. “Unwise, my lord.”

He buried his face in her hair. “It’s the truth. But I was discreet. I told him that urgent family business awaited me. How have you been?”

“Very … not well,” she said. “I wrote to my brother and some agents in Osterling. I lied to Kathe.”

Raul drew back and touched her cheek. “I’m sorry for the necessity.”

He looked ill,
she thought. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, there were faint lines around his mouth—lines of laughter transformed into lines of pain. Her heart ached at the sight, and when Raul touched the corner of her mouth, she nearly burst into tears.

She drew a deep breath. “So. When do we argue?”

“Tonight.”

A shiver ran through her. “So soon?”

“Soon or never,” Raul said. “I cannot pretend much longer. Besides, I heard talk at Lord Vieth’s. The sooner you leave, the better chance we have to avoid suspicion.”

“I thought the parole—”

“—is temporary, I believe. I doubt Lord Khandarr trusts me. And I learned years ago not to trust him.”

She nodded. Laid her palm against Raul’s chest. His heart was beating as fast as hers. If she pretended—

No more pretense. No more delays.

“Very well,” she said. “Tonight.”

*  *  *

RAUL SENT ORDERS
to Mistress Raendl for a private dinner served in the Blue Salon. Ilse waited until the girls were laying out dishes and lighting candles, before she hurried into the room, just a few steps ahead of Raul.

Raul caught up and spun her around. “Why the old rooms?” he asked, in a tense whisper.

Steffi glanced up, her eyes wide, but immediately busied herself with the arranging the wine cups.

“Why?” Raul repeated, louder.

“Not here,” Ilse whispered. “Not now.”

“Because of them?” He flung out a hand, and Dana jumped. “Why do you care what they hear? You didn’t keep it a secret from Kathe.”

Ilse pressed her lips together, trembling. “Kathe is my friend.”

“So much your friend that you betrayed my concerns to her.”

“No!” Her chin jerked up. “I’ve betrayed nothing. But I’m tired of secrets, Raul. Sick and miserably tired. Do you understand?”

Raul smacked the wall with his hand. “Go!” he said to the serving girls. “We can serve ourselves.”

He slammed the door shut after them and rounded on Ilse. “You knew that I cannot have children. Are you blind? Deaf?”

“Neither. I thought—”

“What? You thought what?”

“Let me finish!” Her voice cracked. “I thought we could have children. You said it yourself. Magic crippled you. Magic can heal you. If you truly wanted children, you could find a mage—”

She broke off at his glare.

“Only Markus Khandarr,” he said in a harsh whisper. “Only Markus Khandarr has enough magic to heal this cripple. And I will not bear a debt to that man.”