“You mean I’m not worth his effort.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But you meant it.” She shrugged. “You’re probably right. I’m not a virtuous woman. But I’m a strong woman, and I take care of my own now.” She smiled. “Why do you think I insisted on coming with you? I realize it’s a little late, but I must prove that I no longer run away from responsibility.”

“You need to prove nothing to me.”

“I didn’t say I wanted to prove anything to you. I know your mind is closed to me. I need to prove it to myself.” She turned her horse. “Enough of this chatter. Let us go to Pekbar and get the boy.”

Two days later Gregor and Marianna set up their tents on the steppes, and Gregor immediately sent a rider to Pekbar with the message. Nebrov’s reply came the next morning.

“He’s coming?” Marianna asked as Gregor scanned the note.

“He’s coming,” Gregor answered, glancing at the foothills a few miles away. “He should be here by tonight.”

“Why isn’t he coming at once? It could be a trick. If the messenger could travel this quickly, Nebrov could be right behind him.”

He shook his head. “I surmise he wishes to arrive after darkness falls. It is easier to hide deception at night.”

“He will attack?”

“Of course, if he thinks it possible to succeed.” He smiled gently at her. “Do not frown. It is my duty to make sure he does not think that possible.” He turned to Niko, who stood a few feet from them and said, “It is time, my friend. The foothills.”

Niko nodded and hurried away.

“The foothills?” Marianna asked.

“Nebrov will not bring his entire force when he comes to camp. It is too open here, and he has respect for Kazan’s army. I believe it probable he will leave a sizable force in the hills and have them sweep down to surprise us.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Nothing is sure, but he has few options on this terrain. If I am right, Niko will hide his men in the hills and rid us of that threat.”

“You seem very certain of victory.”

“Kazan’s borders have always been challenged by one army or another, and we know these mountains. We have learned to hide and hit. Run and hit again. Most forces are too rigid and sluggish to respond to such attacks.”

“Nebrov also lives in these mountains.”

“But his army showed no great power to adapt when he tried to conquer Montavia. He relied on sheer numbers and arms to overwhelm the enemy. It is my belief he lacks imagination.”

She shivered. “I hope you’re right.”

“You are frightened.” Gregor shook his head. “Have you so little trust in me? I will guard you.”

“I know you will. It’s just that-” She fell silent, trying to find words to explain the fear that paralyzed her whenever she thought about the coming encounter. “I know you must think me a coward. It’s because of him. He makes me feel helpless.”

“You are not a coward, and you are not helpless unless you let yourself be.” He changed the subject.

“It is good he has delayed his arrival until tonight. He will linger in the foothills to deploy his troops, and that will give Jordan more time to free Alex.” His face clouded. “God knows he will need it. Finding a way to enter that stronghold alone will not be easy.”

“Alone!” Her gaze flew to his face. “He’s going to go into the castle alone? He told me there would be an attack.” He had not really said that, she realized. He had merely not denied it when she had made the assumption.

“There is no time to lay siege.”

“Alone,” she whispered.

“Sometimes one man is safer than a battalion. They will not be expecting it. He will meet with Janus and learn where they’re keeping Alex. Then he’ll scale the wall and try to free the boy before they know he is there.”

“He didn’t tell me. Mother of God, and he said my meeting with Nebrov was more dangerous.” She clenched her hands into fists at her sides to keep them from shaking. “Is he mad? He’s not a bird that can fly in and out of a castle without being noticed.”

“It is the only way.”

“How can you say that? What if this Janus is wrong about his information?”

“Alex will still be safe. Jordan will make very sure that he’s not exposed to any danger. Nebrov’s men would not dare hurt his hostage.”

“And what about Jordan?” she asked fiercely. “Will they hesitate to kill him? You know they won’t. If they catch him, they’ll murder him without a thought.”

“He’s not so easy to catch. His time here in Kazan was not all spent in palaces. He has proven himself in many battles against our enemies.”

“Hitting and running, you said. Where is he going to run to at Pekbar? They’ll capture him and-” She stopped, her throat dry with terror. “You should never have let him do this.”

“He had to do it,” Gregor said simply. “I could not have stopped him. He held himself at fault for the boy’s capture.”

And she had reinforced that guilt. She had spit bitterness and spite at him and had not even bid him good-bye when they had parted. “Go after him. Help him.”

Gregor shook his head. “This is the way he wants it. We must continue with the plan. Besides, it’s too late. I would not get there in time.”

He meant that by the time he reached Pekbar, either Alex would be free or Jordan dead.

The terror gripped her, making her chest tight until she could scarcely breathe. “This was a mistake. Aren’t you supposed to take care of him? You should have told him to find another way.”

“If it is a mistake, then there is nothing to be done about it. If you wish to help Jordan, try to make sure Nebrov does not suspect he has reason to hurry back to Pekbar. His horses will be tired from the journey here, and he will not push them on the return without reason.”

And he would run those horses until they dropped dead in their tracks if he knew what was transpiring at Pekbar. “It still may not be enough time.”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed. “You are as pale as the moon. Why are you so upset? If Jordan dies, you will be free of him. Isn’t that what you want? Of course, we will have to find another way to rescue Alex. That will not be simple, but you know we will do it.”

She turned on her heel and went into her tent. She didn’t want to face even Gregor’s kindly inquisition when she felt this naked and vulnerable. Her limbs were shaking, and her stomach was churning with panic.

Jordan could die.

She had not let herself consider the threat to anyone but Alex. She had been so filled with guilt and anger that she had been unable to-

Guilt?

She closed her eyes as the realization struck. She had blamed Jordan because she had not been able to shoulder her own guilt. She had already admitted to herself that she had not been forced to go to Dalwynd. She had gone because she had been helpless to resist the power that had pulled her toward Jordan from their first meeting. She could have fought him, made an attempt to find where Gregor had taken Alex. She had done neither. If she had not given in to temptation, she would have been with Alex to protect him from harm.

If Jordan was guilty, then she shared his guilt as she had shared his lust.

No, for her it had been more than lust. Desire alone would never have led her to take such a step; it had only been the mask to keep her from looking deeper. What she had felt was far more than lust.

And she had not even told him good-bye. She had let him go without a word.

Please, God, don’t let him die.


***

Steady,” Gregor murmured in her ear. “He cannot hurt you. I will be with you every minute.”

Marianna drew a deep breath as she watched the column of torchbearing riders approach. Soldiers had also carried torches that night Nebrov had come to the cottage. The light had illuminated Nebrov’s face, and her mother had recognized him and sent Marianna running to the forest with Alex.

Now he was coming again.

“You need say nothing,” Gregor told her. “I will speak for you.”

Nebrov was close enough now for her to see his face. He did not look like a monster. His features were delicate, his dark eyes large and almost soulful. His silky brown pointed beard made his triangular face appear longer and his thin lips fuller.

“Good evening, Damek.” He reined in his horse before them and slipped gracefully from the saddle. He was a small man, only a few inches taller than she, and meticulously dressed, from his shining black boots to the fur trim on his elegant gray cloak. His gaze went to Marianna. “This is the girl?”

“I’m sure you’ve had descriptions of her.” Gregor gestured to the tent. “Shall we go inside? It is a cold evening, and I would not want you to become chilled. Unless you have doubts about your safety?”

Nebrov took off his doeskin gloves and tucked them in his belt. “Why should I have doubts when I’ve given instructions that the boy dies if any harm comes to me?” He strode into the tent ahead of them, then turned to stare again at Marianna. “Actually she’s far more comely than I had heard. Draken must have enjoyed her. It’s always pleasant when one’s objectives provide alternate satisfactions.” He paused.

“The mother was quite handsome, too, but I was too angry to fully enjoy her. This one appears far more meek and pliable.”

A welcome anger poured through Marianna, melting the ice of fear that had held her silent. “We will not talk about my mother.”

Nebrov raised his brows. “Perhaps she has more spirit than I thought. Tell me, what tricks did His Grace teach you? Would I enjoy them?”

“You are here for the Jedalar,” Gregor reminded him. “Where is the boy?”

“Did you think I’d bring him here? I left him in a safe place in the foothills with instructions not to be brought to your camp until our negotiations have borne fruit.” He smiled at Marianna, revealing tiny crooked teeth. “I was delighted to learn that Draken had persuaded you to create a new Jedalar. It will save me time. Where is it?”