Raven and Alyssa kept a steady pace north through the dense forest, avoiding soft ground whenever possible in hopes to lessen their tracks. The rough trek wound between trees, over creek beds, around hills. It wasn't until they were more than half way to Jamestown before they heard the cadence of soldiers crashing through the woods behind them. Eight, maybe ten armed men keen on catching the two women.
"How are they gaining ground so quickly?" Alyssa said. "We've stopped naught but twice!"
"They're not. The sound's echoing in the valley. Follow me." Raven turned her mount east, urging him up a steep embankment.
It was a perilous grade of wet earth and fallen logs, and more than once Alyssa feared her stallion would tumble backwards on top of her. Rocks clattered, branches snapped, the horse's heavy breathing sounded like a billows, loud and hair-raising. Several hundred yards higher the ridge plateaued into a semi-arid flat of thin, wind-swept pine. To the west and far below at the bottom of the valley, a few splashes of shiny metal moved through the green. The guards had miles to go to round the valley. Jamestown stood to the east, down a gently sloping ridge. They had cut their travel distance in half by scaling the embankment. Mountain, Alyssa corrected, studying the landscape. They'd scaled a mountain.
They let their horses rest a moment, feeding them a few handfuls of sweet grain. They would have to buy more feed in town to supplement grass and greens, and keep their mounts in good stamina. Alyssa's stomach growled as she loosened her riding jacket.
"I've some coin," Raven said. "We'll find you something to eat in town."
"I'm fine," she huffed. "Really. I can go without lunch and not faint. I'm not a frail flower."
Raven plucked a leaf from Alyssa's hair. "This is a good look for you, I think. Rugged Queen of Norr scales first mountain. Very becoming."
She snatched Raven's wrist and tugged her close. "I look a mess. How is it that your hair, which is always such a disaster, somehow looks dignified? That braid kept through all that foliage—not one briar or stickyweed. How is that possible?"
"Because you braided my hair?"
Alyssa snorted and shoved her away. "You've coin, that's helpful. But how are we to procure anything in town? Surely word's spread by now."
"It's quite simple. You are going to stay hidden while I venture into town and secure our supplies," Raven said.
"And how is that logical?"
"You stand out, Alyssa. Dressed as I am, I do not. To the casual observer, at least."
"I do not stand out."
Raven laughed. "You're riding a gorgeous, expensive white stallion. Your riding clothes cost more than some commoner's homes, and your eyes, however beautiful, are quite unique. They will know in a moment who you are. Then you'll be swept away by the royal guard and carted back to Olisgard. To your king."
"I am not sitting in the woods." She glanced down the ridge. "What if something happens to you? What if you're captured? How would I know?"
"I've survived this long. It would be too ironic for something to befall me now. The gods are far more cruel than that." Raven adjusted her tan robes to hide the sword at her waist, and then retrieved something from her saddle bag. "Take it." She forced a dagger into Alyssa's hands.
An elegantly tooled hilt, fine leather sheath and polished steel blade. Alyssa tested the sharpness with her thumb. This belonged to someone important. "Where did you get this?"
"An old friend." Gathering up her gelding's reins, Raven swung up into the saddle. "We'll follow the tree line down. Once we find a suitable spot for you to wait, I'll slip into town."
Alyssa climbed into her own saddle with a quiet groan. Her muscles were sore already, and the prospect of more rough terrain made her weary. "And what am I to do while I wait? Talk to him?" she gestured to her horse. The stallion turned his head around and nipped at the toe of her boot. "Stop that! I swear, he's worse than a yearling. How old are you, nag?"
"You could think of a name for him," Raven said.
O.O.O.O.O
Khalimat set down her cup of tea, gazing across the lush gardens of her private chambers in Kebos. Time had been kind to her. Grey streaks in her lush black hair and wrinkles in her dark skin only added an edge of dignity to the now sixty-two year old Norrian. Well-respected by all in the realm, but she didn't attain such reverence by her looks. Wit bred from an innate ambition drove her to power. And it was that very intelligence that nagged her each passing day as of late, like a pebble in her shoe.
With winter slowly rolling in, the stifling heat of the Gentle Desert would drop to something more tolerable. In a little more than a month's time, the sacred Longest Night of the year would arrive. As head priestess of the temple of Sekhmet, Khalimat was in charge of the ceremony. Norrians from all over the southern province would come to celebrate, eager to watch the magic of the holy day. Eager to see the Hudar part the veil. If the king continued his ambitious trek to the Spire, Khalimat feared he would beg further use of the prophet.
As such, this would be the first year in almost a decade that she would have to conduct the ritual without Raven. Wilding or not, the Hudar had impeccable discipline when it came to ceremony. Put simply, the woman was gifted with a vast capacity for all walks of magic—some Khalimat didn't even have a name for. As such, she kept her aptly named Prophet on a very short leash for a terribly long time, feeling out the unknown power lurking in those dark, violet eyes. After fifteen years, she trusted the woman—to a point. Otherwise, she would never have let Raven venture to Olisgard.
Frowning, she pushed the fruit around on her plate. She'd never had such a difficult time taming a vagabond as she did with Raven. Perhaps it was her quiet disdain, the snide remarks, the general cynicism that was somewhat appealing. The woman had redeeming qualities, because most of the adepts of the temple liked Raven—the previously mentioned attributes notwithstanding. Khalimat doubted Raven felt the same way towards the majority. The civilized world had been unjustly cruel to the Hudar, and while she functioned admirably within the confines of this society, it took a toll on Raven. She'd hoped the break from the strict desert life and the colorful new environment of Olisgard would be beneficial to the gloomy woman. If one thing was a priority, it was Raven's sanity. If it were to dwindle, Khalimat didn't want to think of what the wronged Hudar might do.
"Excuse me, Priestess," a servant said, jarring her out of her thoughts. "We've received a raven from the Palace in Olisgard."
Favir made good time there. She accepted the note. While it pained her to acknowledge, the irritating priest had completed all that was necessary to achieve his white robes. Still, Favir was a self-righteous bastard that she was glad to be rid of for the time being. She only hoped Raven gave the stick of a man as much hell now as she did when they had first met. Unrolling the thin strip of parchment, she read a hastily written message.
—The Prophet has slain Brother Favir and a royal guard, and has fled Olisgard. Priestess, do you know what she might do? Hudar is her likely destination, but what of between now and then? How much danger are we in? What sort of monster did you send to me?—
The note was written in the King's own hand. Khalimat sat back in her chair, weather worn fingers covering her mouth as she read the note again. Slowly, a smile curved her lips. Raven was not prone to violent outbursts. The woman never lost her temper, never made a fool of herself. She never betrayed what she really thought. Favir forced her hand. The question was: by what means? What did the arrogant priest discover that would warrant his permanent silence, and so quickly?
The second and more important question, was the same concerning Kenos. What would Raven do? Given the Hudar's sense of justice, Kenos might not have a foot to step with if Raven deemed an audience with him pertinent to her retribution. And what of her own safety? Would Raven return to Kebos? Would she risk moving so close to a temple surrounded by guards and outposts? Khalimat couldn't say for sure. She'd have to convene with the gods and bid their guidance. Perhaps even their protection.
"Bring me parchment and ink," Khalimat asked the servant boy. "And find the Captain of the Citadel. Tell him I seek his counsel."
A little earthly protection was never unwise, either.
O.O.O.O.O
The arid ridge sloped down into an evergreen forest, the unofficial line of the northern province. They weren't far off from Jamestown now, meaning there would be villagers, travelers, witnesses to their presence. They had to be careful.
"Which direction is north?" Alyssa asked.
Raven pointed slightly to their left, towards the peak of a mountain visible between the break in the trees. "Town is at the base of that mountain, right? We're close."
"Are you still keen on leaving me?"
"Absolutely."
Raven was as stubborn as a cow resting in the middle of the road. There was little argument that the she could muster, considering the truth to Raven's concern. Even with her violet eyes, Raven looked rather unremarkable as she was dressed. Years spent as a background fixture made her adept at blending in.
Alyssa sighed. "You'll get me something comfortable and warm, yes?"
"No, I thought to get you something pleasing to the eye. It's a dreadfully long trip into Hudar."
She threw a stick, hitting the wry woman in the back of the head.
"Oww! I'll get you something warm."
"Good."
After a suitable hiding spot was located, Raven rode off for town, leaving Alyssa sulking in a secluded cove of trees. An ache throbbed behind her eyes. She pinched the bridge of her nose and regretted skipping breakfast. How would I have known I was going on the lam this morning?
Suddenly remembering Melissah, worry rose in her chest. Surely Dominick would seek her out and question her. What if he found the package?—No, she assured herself. Melissah was a thief, after all. No matter what she wore, how politely she conducted herself, how innocent she appeared; the young woman was a survivor. Alyssa admired her. She's safe. She rubbed her elbow. Safer than we are.
After a length of time passed with little change in her surroundings, boredom took hold. She slumped on a rock beside her horse, picking at the leather braids on the reins. Oblivious to being an instrument in a traitorous act, the stallion happily munched away on grass.
"I suppose you do need a name." She scratched behind his ear. "What shall it be?" It seemed the horse had little concern for a name. He continued to gobble up anything green in sight. "You're a greedy pig, that's what you are. I would have been better off taking another horse. At this rate, you'll eat us out of supplies before nightfall."
A gust of wind blew through the forest, lacing the air with the sweet scent of evergreen and rain. Ominous grey sky peeked through the tree tops. The lieutenant's warning of an impending storm passed through her thoughts. November was cool and rainy in central Norr. In Hudar it was likely already snowing. A desolate, unforgiving environment awaited them. Tugging her short riding coat a little tighter, Alyssa stared at the tips of her boots, questioning if she was really prepared for this journey.
The stallion raised his head into the wind, ears perked.
"What is it?" Alyssa scanned the trees, clutching the dagger in her hand. There were wicked people in this world, and in fleeing her kingdom she'd forfeited her status and all the perks it provided. In the sense of self-preservation, she vowed to do whatever was necessary, no matter how badly her hands were shaking, and no matter how acrid the taste of fear on the back of her tongue. You're the Queen of Norr, Alyssa. Hold yourself together.
A branch cracked somewhere to her left, twenty yards off. She jerked towards the sound. Flinging the reins back over the stallion's head, Alyssa scrambled into the saddle just as another branch cracked, closer this time. The horse took off, clambering through the brush like mad. As frantic seconds turned into minutes, Alyssa sent fleeting glances backwards, forwards, sideways. What direction was she running? She didn't know.
"Whoa, whoa!" She struggled to slow her horse down enough to gain a sense of direction. He pointedly refused, charging onward in a blind run. "Stop, you dumb beast!" She swore as they moved farther away from where Raven had left them. How would she find her way back? Damn this horse!
It was then she heard them crashing in the trees on either side of her, behind her. Three horses, three men, none of them royal guards. A quick glance at their unkept clothing confirmed her fears.
"Slow down, li'l dove!" One called. "We only want to talk with ya!"
Highwaymen. Their horses were fresher than her stallion, whose sides heaved and long strides wavered. One of the men darted beside her, atop a short brown horse. He reached for her reins.
"Piss off!" Alyssa kicked him square in the chin. He tumbled backwards off his mount and slammed into the ground.
A second man raced beside her, swiping the air between them with a stick, nearly hitting her in the head. The stallion balked at the motion, and the great white horse tripped.
She went airborne for an obscenely long pause. Sweet mother, why?
Everything came rushing forward with dirt, leaf litter and dull pain. Remembering to roll as she landed, Alyssa was up on her feet before the two remaining men had circled back towards her. The dagger clutched in her hand felt terribly heavy. Breathing short and quick, matching the thundering in her chest, she assessed her situation with scarcely contained alarm.
The two men outweighed and outsized her. The third, where ever he was, would be quite upset if he managed to stagger over to them. They were filthy, scarred, rough-spun thugs, the kind of riff-raff the guard drove out of Olisgard. The very kind that made their living stalking travelers between the towns of Norr. She was simultaneously disgusted and amazed by their presence. What were the chances of being spotted by them? Was this some sign from the gods to turn back? To abandon this foolish game, return to Olisgard, to Dominick, to everything she loathed. To let Raven slip away into the abyss of uncertainty, possibly never seen again.
No. She ground her teeth and stood tall and proud. She would not accept this. "I told you to piss off."
"Oy, you're a might bit feisty." The fatter of the two said, dismounting his horse. "We haven't had a feisty one in a long time."
The second whistled, smiling to show missing teeth. "Look at the clothes she's wearing. And those eyes! She's a noble, that one is! I bet we could ransom her."
"I reckon you're right. Put down the knife and we'll be gentle. We promise." The fat man drew his own dagger from his belt. "There's a good girl, nice and steady now. Drop the knife."
The sudden and overwhelming desire for Raven's presence never came so strongly before. Alyssa wished for even an ounce of the Hudar's wildness. Something to grasp in her hand other than a blade she had no skill with. Words would be lost on these heathens, and alerting them to her title would only make matters worse.
Movement in the background caught her gaze, and a lump of panic lodged in her throat. The man she'd kicked strode towards them, sword drawn, blood streaming from his nose like war paint. Great. She took a step back, looking for her horse. Did he fall? Was he alive?
"Stupid bitch." A large wound split the man's chin, and his nose appeared bent to one side. If he was unattractive before, Alyssa's attention only heightened it. He spat and stalked closer, sword aimed for her throat. "I'll be sure to repay the favor you wretched little whore."
And just like that, the paralyzing fear was replaced with seething rage. Alyssa steadied her stance, dagger pointed at his chest.
"Take one more step and it will be your last!" An odd undercurrent tinged her words, unspoken, ominous and crystal clear.
The men hesitated, exchanging looks. Bloody man wiped his chin. "Don't just stand there, you stupid shits. Get her!"
Dagger clenched, Alyssa willed her heart to beat a little slower, long enough to think. They stepped closer, almost an arm's length away now. I'll have to kill them. She glanced at the tree tops for a moment, as if for guidance.
Or a favor.
Crack!
A deafening explosion echoed in the forest. Everyone jerked to stillness. A strange, hair-raising creak followed. Only Alyssa looked up in time. She leapt sideways, barely escaping the massive, ancient evergreen that toppled to the ground with a terrible crash. The enormous limbs and trunk crushed the three men beneath a sea of green, their short screams abruptly silenced.
The smell of winter christened with blood danced in the breeze. Alyssa stared, bewildered.
O.O.O.O.O
Raven's light mood darkened when she scanned the cove of trees, finding Alyssa gone. That woman. I was only gone an hour. She looked to the ground, to the set of tracks in the freshly turned earth, indicating horses had moved quickly in the very spot. Horses? More than one.
She dismounted her bay gelding and lead him as she followed the tracks, growing more anxious as the minutes passed. Had the guards doubled back and found their trail? Had they seen Alyssa? She bent lower, inspecting a wide scar of freshly turned earth. Something had fallen.
A snort broke her concentration. To her left stood the white stallion, staring with wide, terrified eyes. No sign of Alyssa. Worry clenched her heart.
She approached the horse, noting the reins snapped in half, the slight tilt to the saddle. He'd tripped and threw Alyssa. "Easy, now." She touched his cheek to calm him and noticed a gash above his knee, trickling blood down his stark white leg.
"That won't do." She placed her palm over the wound, and a shimmering blackness coated her hand. A blending of magic from her heritage and Khalimat's tutelage. When she took her hand away, the gash was now only a faint scar, stained with dried blood.
Crack!
A terrible sound shot through the forest, followed by the groan and crash of a tree slamming to the ground. Raven whirled towards the commotion, eyes and ears trained in the distance. Magic hung like invisible fog, bitter on the back of her tongue. Strange magic and yet . . . familiar. She knotted the stallion's reins back together, mounted her gelding and raced towards the commotion, horse in tow.
Nearly a quarter mile away, she found Alyssa standing alone beside the remains of a massive fir tree. She'd gone pale, dagger in one hand, the other tangled in disheveled hair.
Raven swung off her horse. "What in the name of Sekhmet—"
A bloody hand protruded from the sea of green needles beside Alyssa. The base of the tree stood firmly rooted in the ground, but the trunk had snapped thirty feet up, resulting in the felling of the entire span of canopy.
She grasped Alyssa's upper arms and shook her. "What happened? Are you okay? You're bleeding."
Alyssa blinked. "Three Highwaymen. They chased . . . My horse tripped. They were going to grab me and . . ." She looked up. At her hands. At the tree. "It just fell. Raven, I don't understand how it happened. I looked up at the tree, trying to think of a way to stop them and it just—it just fell."
She eyed the shattered trunk high above their heads. A strange way for a tree to fall without a gust of wind or lightning. Then again, strangeness seemed commonplace around that woman. Like earlier in the stables, when she had tried to leave and Alyssa halted her with one compelling command.
Stop, Alyssa had said. And she could do no other.
Perhaps I'm not the only witch. She brushed Alyssa's blonde hair aside to look at the cut on her temple. "Just a scratch. Nothing to worry about. Come, we need to head out and make camp before dark. It's going to rain."
"Did you not hear a word I said?" Alyssa pointed at the tree. "I—it—something—damnit, Raven, I did that! They're dead!"
Someone groaned from within the mound of fir needles.
Raven jerked towards the sound. There were many ways to deal with highwaymen, and she could not begrudge Alyssa's creativity. But sometimes more intimate actions were called for. She clambered into the fallen tree and wrenched a dazed, bloody man to an upright position within the cage of limbs. His nose was broken, lips and chin split, face scratched and wounded. A proper degenerate, moments away from the afterlife.
"Hello there, fool. What a lovely dagger you have. May I see?"
"Get . . . away . . . bitch," he wheezed, barely able to lift his arms to swat at her. "I'll . . . kill you—"
"Thank you, kindly." She jerked the sheath free from his belt and drew the short blade. "My, my . . . I know this steel well. You see that mark? Here, near the hilt." She buried the dagger in his throat.
He gagged, eyes wide and mouth bloody.
"Yes, that sigil. It means you stole this blade from a Hudar. And now a Hudar is taking it back. Strange how the world works, no?"
"Raven." Alyssa hovered on the periphery of the tree limbs.
"Yes?" She watched the highwayman twitch and writhe.
"I . . . will you come out of there?" Her voice sounded strange. Vulnerable. "Please."
Raven wiped her new dagger clean on the man's shirt and climbed out of the tree boughs.
Alyssa wrapped her arms around herself. "Is he dead?"
"Close enough for my tastes."
"How did that tree fall?"
I don't rightly know. "Whatever the reason, it saved your life. We've a long ride ahead of us, and plenty of time to speculate."
Alyssa glanced at her stallion sulking beside Raven's gelding. "His leg!" She darted to inspect the damage. "But, there's no—where did this blood come from?"
"I healed him." She'd never shared knowledge of that skill with anymore. Not even Khalimat.
Alyssa studied her with those bright, intelligent fuchsia eyes. "You can heal wounds."
"Minor damage, yes."
"What else can you do?"
"It's never wise to reveal your skills without reason." She glanced to the fallen tree. "But I can see you know that already, even if not the means to work the skills."
Alyssa furrowed her brow. "I'm the one with the head injury. Why are you speaking in riddles?"
She nodded to the stallion. "Did you name the poor beast?"
"Yes," Alyssa said just as the rain began to fall. "I think I'll call him Avarice."
O.O.O.O.O
Dominick Kenos paced his bed chambers, beside himself with worry and rage. He'd received a raven from the west gate indicating that Alyssa had left the city for a ride in the countryside. Nothing unusual, aside from the lieutenant's brilliant observation regarding the maidservant accompanying Alyssa. Long black hair, pale skin, dark eyes. None of the servants in the palace had black hair. Most of the citizens of Olisgard had blonde or brown, occasionally red. Kenos didn't believe in coincidences. That was the Prophet in disguise, and Alyssa didn't know! She went for a ride with a murdering barbarian this morning and hadn't returned. The sun was barely a flicker on the horizon now.
She's been kidnapped. He told himself that over and over, with each pace of the room. A team of soldiers had set chase, losing the trail somewhere south of Jamestown. Kenos seethed, slamming his fist on his desk. Raven would have changed clothes, masked her appearance, taken unpaved cut-throughs in the forests. Had she already slipped into Hudar? She had a lengthy head start on this entire production. But why take the queen? For ransom? To mock him? Did Raven kill Alyssa, leaving her body somewhere in the wilds to be picked upon by vultures?
He couldn't bear to think of his beautiful wife in such a way. Nothing but trembling fury soothed his fears. He poured another glass of wine and guzzled it empty.
A knock sounded at the door. "What is it?" he snapped. Captain Roberts stepped inside the room, a meek guard following. "Did you find something?"
Roberts cut his eyes to the guard, a young man with dark hair and blue eyes that looked quite uncomfortable. "We did find the girl," the Captain said slowly.
Kenos leaned forward. "Girl?"
"Melissah Rossario, the queen's attendant, your grace. She returned to the palace from the queen's errand to the market. She had a package with her."
He jerked to his feet. A clue! Something to jog his mind, something to give meaning to Alyssa's odd behavior. "Well, what was it?"
"Grayson." Roberts gave the guard a shove forward.
The young man cleared his throat and bowed, new armor creaking. "Ah, your grace. The lady Melissah still has the package."
He didn't have the patience for this. "And where is Melissah?"
Grayson swallowed. "Ah . . . she disappeared under my watch, your grace. Slipped through a hidden door. The servant's tunnels. I looked for her everywhere, but she vanished. Like a ghost."
Kenos crushed the wine glass in his hand.
Melissah the thief. The little runt was likely already in her old prowling grounds, somewhere in the market. Why in the seven hells did Alyssa have such a soft spot for her? And why was he such a fool to allow the girl to walk his halls? The same could be said of his misplaced trust in Raven. What was he thinking?
"Captain Roberts." He let the glass tumble to the floor and inspected the cut in his palm.
"Yes, your grace. I will see that she is found." He hesitated. "There was also a raven that arrived from Kebos." The Captain set a note on the corner of his desk, then grabbed the young guard and jerked him out of the room.
The door slammed shut, taking with it the last of Keno's composure. Snatching the note, he read Khalimat's neat script.
—The Prophet will return to Hudar at all costs, my King. From there, I suspect she will try to find what's left of her people. Hearing that she killed Brother Favir is most curious, however. He must have discovered something that made his continued existence impractical to her. Find out what it was and you will have a chance at bringing her to heel. But take caution. She is Za'hava, and she is slowly going mad.—
And she had Alyssa.
O.O.O.O.O
They had ridden west for another two hours, winding their way through the smaller mountain passes at the start of the Targantis range. Alyssa knew the location of all the outposts, and with her direction, Raven was able to lead them close to Norr's borders without sight of any patrolling soldiers. Tomorrow's ride would bring them dangerously close to the Norrian army.
The rain fell in a steady pour, bone-chilling and miserable. With the last rays of light streaming over the horizon, Raven had spotted a dark recess in the rocky embankment of the pass. A cave tall enough for them to stand in and still be unable to reach the ceiling. After checking to be sure there were no bears or wolves, the two women lead their tired mounts into the shelter and tethered them near the entrance. Digging in the bags, Raven retrieved a tinder box and made quick work of starting a fire with a bundle of dry sticks they'd collected earlier.
"Oh, thank the gods." Alyssa huddled by the flames, warming her hands.
Raven dragged the rest of their bags closer to the fire. "Thanking the gods? They're the ones who made it rain." Freedom had drastically brightened her mood, Alyssa had noticed. Raven practically buzzed with energy. Taking two feed bags, the dark-haired woman saw to it that both mounts had a hearty dinner.
"Where are you going?" Alyssa asked as Raven made her way towards the entrance of the cave.
"To get some pine. It will burn wet. I'll only be gone a moment." She paused in the threshold, nothing but a dark shadow on the outskirts of the light. Alyssa couldn't help but think she seemed a wash more menacing now, as if being closer to her homeland rendered the woman ethereal. It left Alyssa a little breathless with dual emotions. "And for the love of Hudar, will you stay put?"
"Yes, your majesty," Alyssa said.
When Raven had disappeared, she sagged against the wall of the cave, completely exhausted. Numb with cold and sore in places she didn't know existed. She thought herself to be in decent riding shape, in decent physical shape in general, but the day's adventure left her doubtful of her earlier opinion. Did Raven feel this drained? Judging by the three months of interactions with the Hudar, she doubted the woman would ever voice being uncomfortable. But she was instinctually more suited to this lifestyle than a Queen. A Queen that hadn't eaten all day and was shamefully missing her favorite bottle of wine.
Glancing at the bulging saddle bags, she crawled closer and unlashed the ties. An odd little smile quirked her lips. Raven had secured an impressive collection of supplies. Otter skin boots and gloves. Feed for the horses. A small cook pot. Oats and dried meat. A few water skins. Two bedrolls. A thick bear fur blanket. Extra leather straps for the riding gear. There were two other bags she hadn't even opened yet.
Alyssa set water to boil on the fire, aiming to make some warm food. She couldn't recall the last time she'd made anything remotely edible. Or the last time she'd cooked anything at all. Oatmeal wasn't that difficult, right?
When the water began to bubble, she moved it away from the fire, then poured in a few handfuls of oats. While they cooked, she cleared away rocks and flattened a large spot on the cave floor. She laid out the bedrolls side by side, covered them with the thick bear fur blanket and rearranged them until she was satisfied. Not too bad, for some ugly old furs in a cave.
"I never suspected you of being domestic."
Alyssa yelped and spun. Raven stooped by the fire, building it up with the large pile of wood she'd brought. How on earth did she carry all that in one trip? Regaining her poise, she crossed her arms. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing ill, your grace."
"If you do not cease addressing me as such I will smother you in your sleep."
"How fortunate that I don't sleep."
"So that's what you were doing last night after I'd finished with you? Because the wild and dangerous Hudar everyone fears fell asleep cuddled in my arms. Like a kitten."
Raven cut her gaze to Alyssa and stirred their dinner.
She watched the woman's unsettling shadow dancing on the wall of the cave. "Though, sometimes you've a look in those eyes that reminds me what you're capable of."
"Does that frighten you?"
"A little bit," she said, wary of the sudden tension in the cave. The precarious line between fear and lust. Another wave of adrenaline lit her senses, tuning them on the fascinating creature on the other side of the fur blankets. "It may be foolish, but I believe you enjoy my company too much to turn that look on me."
"Let none say you lack wisdom. Your grace."
The jab only intensified her need. Alyssa clutched the edge of the bedroll. "Raven."
She met her gaze, and the fire burning behind those violet eyes warmed Alyssa from head to toe. The intensity of desire became unbearable.
"Come here," she said. "—now."
Raven was on her in an instant. They tore at one another's clothing until freed, and Alyssa pulled Raven on top of her, languishing in the warmth of that smooth, strong body and her devilishly skilled lips. Rainwater dripped from Raven's braid, trickling down Alyssa's side in sharp, cold sensations, blissfully ignored.
In the shadow of the mountains, the Hudar witch made love to the Queen of Norr as if this were their last moment alive. As if an entire nation wasn't searching for them. As if nothing mattered but their two bodies mingled in seamless perfection, warm with sweat and passion.
In a rare show of humility, the white stallion looked the other way.