'The mage…"

"The mage has exerted himself to his limit."

The Valdane looked thoughtful, but when he spoke, he oozed with sarcasm. "And Kitiara Uth Matar, about to become a proud mother, could you do anything about all that? Do you think I ought to plan my campaign around your confinement?" He affected a whine. "I'm sorry, Valdane… we can't take Tarsis now, Valdane… I think I'm having contractions today, Valdane.'"

Stung, Kitiara shot back, "Don't forget, Valdane, I know where the ice jewels are. They offer limitless power to the one who can unlock their secrets. And about that other 'problem'… your mage could help take care of that as part of the bargain."

"The baby?"

"The child need never be born," she snapped.

For a moment, neither spoke. The Valdane's thoughts lay masked behind an unfathomable stare. But in another of his mercurial shifts of mood, his next words were gentle. "It doesn't have to come to that, Kitiara. We don't have to be enemies, you and I. Once we fought on the same side."

Kitiara forced an implacable tone. "I remember that I fought. You stayed safely in your tent."

He put a hand on her arm. "Let's end this bickering for now. I'll have lunch brought here." He directed his words at the mage, behind Kitiara, where he awaited his master's command. Janusz murmured something that Kitiara didn't catch, but her stomach grumbled. No doubt about it, she was hungry. "You'll probably poison me, Valdane." She affected a lighthearted tone.

He smiled. "If I kill you, I'll never learn where the jewels are, will I? As you yourself have pointed out. We are in a most interesting predicament, you and I."

At that moment, the ettin thundered at the door. The creature ducked beneath the doorjamb, carrying an enormous tray covered with thin white canvas.

The ettin tossed the cloth on the floor and began pitching platters and bowls onto a corner table with such enthusiasm that a third of the crockery broke. "Dead fish here; dead bird here," the ettin chanted, and Kitiara heard a snort from the mage. "Bare plate, bare plate, fork, fork. Hoof jelly, spicy. Seaweed-cold, cold. Thanoi cheese, gray, chewy."

"I'll confess, Valdane," Kitiara said, "after a stint in your dungeon, any meal would sound wonderful." She smiled at the ruler and sat down. "But," she added sweetly, "I'll still let you taste everything first."

Afterward, their stomachs full, Kitiara and the Valdane, enshrouded in fur parkas, sped across the snowy landscape in a dire-wolf sledge. Res-Lacua bumbled behind, humming, until the Valdane thundered back to him to keep quiet.

Kitiara mulled over her mealtime discussion with the leader. She had no intention of turning the nine ice jewels over to the Valdane. Kitiara had her own plans for such valuable artifacts. But she had to stall the Valdane until help arrived.

"You're awfully quiet. Are you planning strategy?" the Valdane asked now.

Kitiara blinked. Strategy? Of course. They were off to lead the minotaurs and the rest of the Valdane's forces against another helpless Ice Folk village. Kitiara had agreed to lead the attack. She hoped the defeat and enslavement of the village would buy Caven and Tanis time to arrive. Kit had an idea that she could make the campaign last several days. The Valdane might enjoy the thought of toying with the Ice Folk for some time before closing in for the kill.

Kitiara let one side of her mouth rise in her characteristic crooked grin. "I'm always planning strategy," she answered.

The Valdane smiled back.

Chapter 18

Surprisingly, Xanthar had retreated northward without demurral. Xanthar had merely dipped his head, touched Tanis's sleeve with the tip of his beak, flattened his ear tufts against the sides of his head, and launched into the air.

"Not a word," Caven had said, marking Xanthar's progress until the giant bird was just a dark gray spot against the sky. "I expected an argument."

That had been days ago. Since then, the half-elf and the mercenary had walked nearly ceaselessly-and almost wordlessly. Now they stood upon rocky heights overlooking a vast sea a hundred feet below. "Ice Mountain Bay," Tanis said.

"It looks more like an ocean. How do you know it's simply a bay?"

"The owl told me, days ago, that we would come to this place."

"I wish the blasted owl had told you how we are going to get across." Caven scowled at the seething, steel-blue water dotted with floes of ice. He edged back from the precipice. Beads of icy sweat shone on his forehead. Seabirds flew overhead, cawing, but there were no other signs of life. Copses of trees dotted the expanse of rocky soil behind them.

"Right after the sandstorm, Xanthar seemed to be speaking-or at least trying to speak-telepathically with someone," Tanis mused, scanning the horizon from west to east. "The lady mage, I expect. But all he said was that our way across the bay would prove obvious. While we were talking, he was so exhausted that he fell asleep in midsentence. I didn't press him on the subject. Now I wish I had."

Caven spat, sitting down on a rock. "Well, the way's not obvious to me," he said petulantly. "Unless the overgrown chicken thought we could swim through that frigid muck, or sprout wings and fly."

Tanis nodded absentmindedly. He leaned over, picked up a piece of driftwood, and regarded it thoughtfully.

Until now, each man had instinctively shied away from the real thing weighing on their minds. But shivering in the needle-sharp wind that angled north off the bay, Caven broached the subject.

"Do you think she really is?"

"Is what?" Tanis asked. He looked up from the piece of driftwood to Caven, who didn't meet his eyes. The half-elf tossed the branch behind him.

"With child, half-elf. Like the owl said."

Tanis considered. "I think so, yes," he said at last, as though he hadn't been thinking about the same thing incessantly ever since Xanthar had made the revelation.

They sat in silence for a while. Caven finally shrugged. "I can't see Kitiara getting married," the mercenary said. "Or basking in motherhood. Especially that."

Tanis ran his hand through his hair. "No," he said. He frowned and turned his back on the bay, facing north. The valley they'd just traversed sloped before him. The wind howled and pushed against his back.

"Maybe it was some other…"

All of a sudden, Tanis froze, holding up a hand in warning. Caven stopped in midsentence. The Kernan rose and drew his sword. Tanis unfastened his bow from his pack and checked his sword.

"What is it?" Caven whispered.

Tanis shook his head.

"Battle drums?" Caven ventured. "I've heard the dwarves of Thorbardin bang the hollow trunks of symphonia trees to scare their enemies, and Thorbardin is up that way. But I've never heard…" He paused to listen. "An attack from the north? It makes no sense. We've been all the way through the dust plains. I saw nothing to threaten us except miles of shifting sand."

Tanis strained his eyes, trying to see as far back as he could into the direction from where they had come. Except for a dark line in the sky, which looked like a low bank of storm clouds, there was nothing out of the ordinary.

Tanis pointed. "If you told me the Valdane knows we are carrying these magic jewels, I'd say that maybe we've become a target."

They looked at each other then. Hazel eyes met black. "He might have ways of knowing," Caven replied.

Seconds later, they were hiding among the trunks of the nearest trees. The pair bent some branches to improve their cover, then crouched, armed, behind their makeshift bulwark.