«Kubona and I didn't want anyone from Trawn stumbling on them, of course,» she said. «We also didn't want any of our own hunters from Draad finding them. I wasn't supposed to be this far out into the forest on my own.»

Blade said nothing, and tried to keep his face straight. Apparently he wasn't entirely successful. Neena looked at him, then sighed.

«All right,» she said. «There's no need to look at me that way. I know what you're thinking, and what you'd like to say. You're right, I'll admit it, so you can keep quiet. I'll have enough to listen to from my father when we get home.»

«No doubt,» said Blade, in a carefully neutral voice.

Neena shrugged. «I suppose I deserve at least some of it. Certainly it was my fault that Kubona was killed. But I suspect my father will be so happy that I'm home safe that he won't say too much. Queen Sanaya, on the other hand-«

«Your mother?»

«My-no, let's just call her my father's chosen wife.» The chill in Neena's voice was unmistakable.

«Not much love lost between you and Sanaya, I gather?»

«Not enough for her to really regret my being carried off and enslaved in Trawn. She-«Neena hesitated, as if uncertain how much she should say, then went on quickly. «She is only three years older than I. My father married her two years ago, in the hope of getting from her more children, sons above all.»

«You are King Embor's only heir?»

«There is my sister Jana. But she is only eleven, and my father does not care much for her. My mother died bearing her.»

«Is there a law against women ruling in Draad?»

«There is no law, but it has not happened for two centuries. There are many of the warriors and clan chiefs who would be happier under the rule of a man. They say that a man will be a better leader in war against Trawn.»

Blade frowned. «They are not thinking very clearly.»

Neena spat on the forest floor and slammed her fist against the bark of the tree. «They are damned fools! Trawn will move against us much sooner than they think. If Sanaya were to conceive tonight, we would have war before her son was able to walk. Even if he has time to grow to the age of a warrior, he will only die with the rest of us if he can do nothing about the stolofs.»

She sighed. «Ah, well, Sanaya will bear that son sooner or later. She comes from a line where the women are always fertile. Then perhaps she will have less time to intrigue with her friends or worry about me.»

There was everything Neena had promised in the camp, although the dried meat had developed worms. Blade was almost hungry enough to cut off the worm-infested portions and eat the rest, but not quite. Not when they would have fresh roast meat in a few more hours.

Neena's first concern, however, was final rites for Kubona, putting her body or at least her spirit to rest. «Those swine of Desgo's just left her lying like a piece of meat when they'd finished with her,» Neena said. There was a note of killing rage in her voice, so that even Blade felt uncomfortable for a moment. «The gods alone know what may have been by there since our fight. Well, we shall do our best.»

The place of the fight and Kubona's death lay another two miles away, on the far side of the thick stand of trees. Neena led the way swiftly through the shadows, and they reached the river bank by midafternoon.

The skeletons of two of the soldiers from Desgo's band still lay bleaching in grass now grown a foot high around them. Neena and Blade searched carefully, hoping to turn up Kubona's more delicate bones somewhere. They found nothing that could have been her. Even her clothing and weapons had vanished.

«Perhaps a party from Draad found her and took her back for burial,» said Blade.

Neena shrugged. «Perhaps. The odds are long against it. The hunters of Draad come forth more often and travel farther than those of Trawn. But the forests of Gleor are large, so it is still hard for them to find what they are not seeking.

«No, I think the beasts have given Kubona a forest burial. That is all she can hope to have, and we cannot hope to change what the gods have sent her.» Neena sat on the grass, cross-legged, her chin in her hands and her eyes cast down on the ground.

After a moment she smiled and stood up. «Perhaps it has been for the best after all. Kubona was a huntress and the daughter of many hunters. Her soul belonged to the open air and the great forests. Now her body does also. Perhaps the gods knew what they were doing.» She turned toward the patch of grass where Kubona had died. «Here we are, my comrade. Here we are, alive, to wish you peace now and avenge you when the chance comes.»

Neena was speaking so intensely that Blade had the uncomfortable feeling she was speaking to a real presence-or at least to a presence that was real to her. He did not believe in ghosts, or that anything in this sunlit clearing could do him and Neena any harm. Rather, he felt that he was an unwanted intruder on a farewell that ought to have been private.

Before Blade could move, Neena rose and turned to him. Her arms were still raised, but now they reached out toward him, beckoning him to come closer. As though pulled by invisible strings, Blade did so.

He came within Neena's reach, and her arms went around him. Her body swayed forward and pressed hard against his. She had embraced him and he had embraced her before, many times. It had always been an embrace that a sister might have given a brother, or a brother a sister. This time it was different. Weeks of captivity, weeks of endurance, the tension and violence of their escape, their trek through the forests of Gleor-bit by bit, all these things had forged a bond between Blade and Neena. Now they had the time, the place, and the strength to complete that bond.

Neena's hands crept down and around, to stroke the inside of Blade's thighs. His own hands slipped to the front of her tunic and began undoing the lacing. The leather opened; his fingers crept inside and slid around the superb curves of her small neat breasts, over her suddenly firm nipples. Neena's lips quivered, drifted open, pressed warmly and wetly against Blade's.

Blade finished undoing the lacing of her tunic and pulled it from her body. Now she was bare to the waist. He bent down, his lips joining his hands in roaming up and down her body, over throat, shoulders, breasts, the smooth, flat stomach. He kissed each nipple, felt them harden still further against his searching lips, heard Neena moan softly, deep in her throat.

He would have started on the lacing of her trousers then, but her hands got there first. She pushed her trousers down her long slim legs. They wadded and tangled around her ankles and caught on her boots. She pushed and shoved and heaved at them, half cursing, half laughing in frustration and passion and impatience all mixed together. Finally she threw herself on her back, arms spread wide, hair fanning out on the grass. She could raise her legs, but she could not spread them. They were locked together at the ankles by her tangled trousers as effectively as they had been by Lord Desgo's hobbling cords. She kicked furiously, tried to sit up, then fell over backward and lay there choking and gasping with laughter until she was too weak to even raise her head.

Blade stripped off his own loincloth and stood naked in the sunlight, staring down at Neena. Her eyes widened as she took in the whole magnificent maleness of his powerful body. He knelt, jerked off her boots with two swift motions that made her gasp, then slid her trousers off and threw them aside. Now her legs could slide apart in a single fluid motion.

In another equally fluid motion Blade was balancing himself on his arms above her. Neena's lips moved in wordless demands that he enter her, that they join. He held himself above her for another moment, until her hands reached up and grabbed his hair and beard. She jerked his head downward so hard that for another moment sharp pain almost drove away his desire.