Free Book 1 - Reap the East Wind by Glen Cook Page B

her life she had had this knack for fooling herself.
    The man who called himself Michael had a hard time calming her down. Finally, he said, “You’re in no real danger while they think they can use you to blackmail the wizard and your husband.”
    “What are you going to do?”
    “I thought about bringing you out the window. But they’ve got your son. You probably wouldn’t go...”
    “You’re right.” The gods themselves wouldn’t pry her out of this place while Ethrian was being held here.
    “There’s nothing I can do for you, then. I can only go home and explain what happened. Maybe the Marshall can do something.”
    Not likely, she thought. Bragi might try, for friendship’s sake, but Kavelin had very little diplomatic clout east of the Mountains of M’Hand. And even less with Shinsan. If he was smart he’d forget her and get on with Kavelin’s business.
    She leaned out the window. “The rain’s stopped. It’s getting light.”
    Trebilcock groaned. “We’ll have to spend the day on the ledge out here.”
    They spoke again before he left. He promised to ride straight through. She gave Michael and his friend a kiss apiece. Poor sad fools. What chance had they? “Good luck.”
    “We’ll be back. That’s a promise.” There was a playful gleam in Trebilcock’s eye.
    She couldn’t stifle a smile. “You’re bold. Remember, I’m a married lady.”
    Though in her heart she knew nothing would come of it, she could not kill her hope. For months there was a defiant bounce to her step which puzzled and even worried her captors.

    She had given up on Michael Trebilcock. Surely he and his friend had fallen trying to get back to Kavelin. It was a miracle they had made it here. And if they did get home, what could be done? Not a damned thing.
    Her nights were long and often sleepless. Insomnia had plagued her most of her life. It was worse now, aggravated by her concern for her son. They let her see him so seldom... He was always healthy when she did see him, if a little frightened and confused by their situation.
    She paced, looked out at the night, paced. “You’re a damned fool,” she told herself for the thousandth time.
    Something rattled and clanged outside. She leaned out her window, saw nothing but rain clouds...  Wait. That looked like a big fire up on the north end of the island. She ducked back inside, stricken by déjà vu.
    Years ago, briefly, her brothers had established her as ruling princess of Iwa Skolovda. There had come a winter night when she had looked out and seen her city burning... 
    A fat shadow piled through the window. Metal went shang as a sword left its scabbard. A man grabbed her.
    She panicked, started to scream. A hand covered her mouth.
    “Yah! She bit me!”
    “Nepanthe! Settle down!”
    Several voices talked all at once. “Find a lamp.”
    “Damn!”
    “Marshall, I’m going to clout her.”
    “Easy, son. Nepanthe, it’s me, Bragi. Behave yourself.”
    She went to the floor with the man holding her, spitting and kicking. Someone struck a light. Someone else seized her hair and yanked her head back. Bragi? Here?
    “Can you stay quiet now?”
    The panic vanished as fast as it had appeared. She knew she was making no sense, but could not stop babbling.
    “Take a minute,” Bragi said. “Get yourself together.”
    She did get hold of herself, and told her story. She was not gentle with herself for her part. “What are you doing here, anyway?”
    “I’m here because you are.” Just like that. And she had been able to believe he was a threat to her husband.
    “But...  you’re only one man. Three men.” She told Michael Trebilcock, “Thank you. And you. Sorry I bit you. I was scared.”
    Aral Dantice sucked his injured hand. “No matter, ma’am.”
    Bragi said, “I didn’t come alone. That racket out there is Kavelin’s army kicking ass.”
    “Bragi, you’re making a mistake. Argon is too much for you.” But, oh, did she love him for coming. Just