The Chernagor Pirates

himself. He’d thought Lanius meant that kind of peace, not the sort that came with armies staying home.

“I know you’ll win, Your Majesty,” Limosa said. “Time is on your side, after all.”

Was it? Grus had his doubts. She might as well have said, Third times the charm —not that it had been. Vasilko had had plenty of time to consolidate himself in Nishevatz. How many people there still longed for Vsevolod’s return? How many people who had longed for Vsevolod s return had Vasilko disposed of? A lot of them—Grus was sure of that. It wouldn’t make reconquering the Chernagor town any easier.

He shrugged. Nothing he could do about it. He said, “If the gods are kind, we’ll come back with victory—and without Vsevolod.”

“That would be perfect,” Lanius said. Ortalis didn’t seem so concerned—but then, he’d paid as little attention to Vsevolod as he had to anything else connected to actually ruling Avornis.

Grus turned away from his family and back toward the army. “Let’s move!” he called. A trumpeter echoed his command. The horsemen who’d go out ahead of the rest of the force as scouts urged their mounts into motion. One piece at a time, the remainder of the army followed.

“I’m off,” Grus said when he had to ride or fall out of place. As he used knees and the reins to get his horse moving, Lanius and Sosia and Ortalis and Limosa all waved. He waved back. Then, for the fourth time, he set out for the land of the Chernagors.

Twice, he’d failed to take Nishevatz. Once, he hadn’t even gotten up into the Chernagor country before bad news forced him to turn away. Oddly, those disasters heartened him instead of leaving him discouraged. He’d seen every sort of misfortune when he went north. Didn’t that mean he was due for good luck sometime soon?

He hoped it did. Maybe it meant he’d see no good luck against the Chernagors no matter what happened. He refused to believe that. If he did believe it, he wouldn’t have sent forth this army. He didn’t think he would have, anyhow.

Not far away, Prince Vsevolod rode toward his homeland. Like the rest of the beasts in the army, the Prince of Nishevatz’s horse went at a walk. Vsevolod had to know he couldn’t take back Nishevatz all by himself. Even so, he gave the impression of heading north at a headlong gallop. That impression might have been—was—false, but seemed real all the same.

Hirundo, by contrast, might have been sauntering along. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to get to Nishevatz. Grus knew he did. But he knew he wouldn’t get there right away, and showed he knew it, too. Grus preferred his attitude. It struck him as being more sensible than Vsevolod’s. And what about me? the king asked himself. He answered with a shrug. With the Menteshe distracted down in the south, he thought he had a better chance on this campaign than on the ones of years gone by—if the nomads were distracted, the Banished One should be distracted, too. Grus hoped to bridge the gap between should be and is. If he did, he might win. If not, he’d come home disappointed again—if he came home at all.

Lanius wondered how long he would have to wait this time for Sosia to let him back into her bed. He was curious and interested for more than one reason. First and… most urgent was the interest any man would have shown about that particular question.

A more abstract curiosity, though, accompanied that… urgent interest. Sosia had to make some careful calculations of her own. If she showed she warmed to him too soon, what would he think? Why, that he could enjoy himself with a serving girl whenever he felt like it. He’d make Sosia angry for a little while, but she’d soon forgive and forget.

But if she really was furious—or wanted him to believe she was— and kept herself to herself for a long time, what would spring from that? He was a man, after all, with a mans desires. Wouldn’t he go looking for another serving girl and slake those desires with her? She wouldn’t want him doing that.

Yes, a nice calculation.

Lanius tried to think along with his wife. She’d known him for a long time now. She would know how much he heated through each day of denial. He had a pretty good notion of when he would get fed up and start smiling at the prettier maidservants if Sosia hadn’t softened by then.

Two days before the time when he figured his impatience would get the better of his good sense, Sosia sighed and said, “I can’t make you change very much, can I?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” Lanius answered seriously. “One person usually can’t change another. By the gods, not many people can change themselves.”

His wife studied him. “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

“I have some idea.” His voice was dry.

“Good.” The queen sounded relieved. “I wasn’t sure. Sometimes you see only the questions, not what’s behind them.”

That was true enough. Lanius said, “I’m glad you’re not angry at me anymore,” then quickly amended that to, “Not too angry at me, I mean.”

“Not too angry is right,” Sosia said, “and even that’s just barely right. Still, you’re what I’ve got. I can either make the best of it or else find we’re in even more trouble.”

Her thinking did mirror his. He said, “I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

“I know,” Sosia answered. “You always do when you’re with me. It’s one of the reasons I can stand having you touch me again after—after everything you’ve done.” She looked at him with more defiance than desire on her face. “Shall we?”

“All right.” Lanius was more worried than he wanted her to know. If she didn’t want him to please her, then he wouldn’t, no matter what he did. He’d seen that with her and with other women. Men were simpler there. If it felt good, they didn’t worry about much else. We’re lucky, Lanius thought; he didn’t wonder if it was good luck or bad.

Physical acts counted, too. He worked especially hard to give Sosia pleasure when they lay down together. And, to his relief, he succeeded. She murmured something wordless, then stroked the back of his head. “You,” she said, and her voice sounded as much accusing as anything else.

“At your service,” he said. “And now—” He poised himself above her. He’d wondered if she would just lie there when they joined, to punish him for making love with Zenaida. But she didn’t. Even as his own pleasure built, he nodded in respect. Sosia didn’t stint. She deserved credit for that.

Afterward, he kissed the side of her neck. She wiggled; that was a ticklish spot for her. “You,” she said again, even more accusingly than before.

“Yes, me,” Lanius said. “You… had better believe it.” He’d almost said, You were expecting someone else? Considering that he’d enjoyed himself with someone else, she might have answered, What if I was? Better not to travel some roads than to see where they led.

“When we started,” Sosia said, “I wasn’t sure I really wanted you touching me, kissing me, kissing me there, at all. But you know what you’re doing.” In the dark stillness of the bedchamber, her eyes were enormous. “Do you study that along with everything else?”

“Not much in the archives about it,” Lanius said. A man studied such things whenever he made love with a woman, but that wasn’t what Sosia had meant. He didn’t think many men realized that was what they were doing. The more fools they, he thought.

“Archives,” Sosia muttered, so maybe she had something else in mind for the source of his research. But she didn’t snipe at him. Instead, she asked, “What am I going to do with you?”

“Put up with me, I hope,” Lanius answered. “I’ll try to do the same for you.”

“For me? Why do I need putting up with?” But then Sosia shook her head. “Never mind. Don’t tell me. I’ll try to put up with you, you try to put up with me, and we’ll both try to get along. Bargain?”

“Bargain,” Lanius said. They clasped hands.

Up ahead of the Avornan army, Chernagor cavalry skirmished with King Grus’ scouts. More Chernagor horsemen galloped off toward the north. Grus cursed, more in resignation than anything else. “So much for surprise,” he said.

“Did you really think we’d keep it?” Hirundo asked. “We can’t just appear out of nowhere, like ghosts in a story to frighten children.”

“Maybe not, but we’d win a lot of battles if we could,” Grus said.