“You fight well,” he told her. “Yes,” she replied. “I do.” Valsavis grinned. “We make a good team,” he said. She glanced at him sharply, and he quickly added, “The three of us, I mean. If this is any indication of how things will go in Bodach, we should all be rich before long.”
“You will find it is far easier to kill the living than the undead,” she replied flatly.
He gazed at her with interest. “You sound as if you speak from experience,” he said. “Have you ever fought undead before?” she asked. “No,” Valsavis said. “I have fought men, elves, giants, dwarves, even halflings and thri-kreen, but never yet undead. I imagine it should prove an interesting experience. I am looking forward to it.”
“I am not,” Ryana said. “It is not an experience most sane people would be eager to repeat.”
“And yet you travel with Sorak to Bodach,” said Valsavis, glancing at the elfling, who walked slightly ahead of them. “I find that curious. I had always thought villichi priestesses and druids lived a life of austere simplicity, dedicated to the spiritual path. Seeking treasure seems somewhat out of character.”
“Everyone chooses his own path,” Ryana replied. “As you have chosen yours.”
“And what of Sorak? Is this path of your choosing, or his?”
“What difference would that make to you?” she countered.
“I was merely interested.”
“I see,” she replied. “Is it the treasure of Bodach that interests you, or me?”
“And just supposing I said it was both?” Valsavis asked.
“Then I would reply that you could only hope to gain one,” she said, and quickened her pace to catch up with Sorak.
“Perhaps,” Valsavis said softly to himself. “And then again, perhaps not.”
7
It was late when they arrived back at their rooms at the Oasis. Ryana removed her sword belt and flopped down wearily on her bed. Sorak stood by the window, looking out at the night thoughtfully.
“Valsavis is going to be a problem,” Ryana said, as if reading his thoughts.
“Yes, I know,” Sorak replied, still gazing out the window.
“He wants me,” said Ryana dryly. “I know that, too.” His response was flat and unemotional, merely a simple acknowledgment of her statement.
She glanced at him, puzzled. “And how does that make you feel?” she asked, carefully keeping her voice neutral. She did not want anything in her tone to dictate the nature of his response.
He turned to look at her. “Do you want to hear me say that I am jealous?” he asked.
“I want to hear you say how it makes you feel,” she replied.
“It makes me feel cautiously optimistic.” She stared at him with open-mouthed astonishment, unable to believe what she’d heard. Of all the responses he might have given, that was the last one she could ever have expected.
“What?”
“I am still not completely certain,” Sorak replied, turning back to stare contemplatively out the window, “but I am growing more and more convinced that Valsavis is an agent of the Shadow King. And if so, then his attraction to you could serve as a distraction from his true purpose. That would be very useful for us.”
“Is that all I mean to you?” Ryana asked with a stricken expression. “I am merely of value as a distraction and nothing more?”
He turned back to face her. “Forgive me,” he said, contritely. “I did not mean it that way at all.” He exhaled heavily. “You know very well how I feel about you, and you know how much you mean to me. But I have no reason to feel jealous of Valsavis. I know what sort of man he is, and I know you, Ryana. Regardless of your feelings toward me, I know that you could never feel anything for such a man.”
“He may not care about how I feel,” she replied, wryly. “In fact, I doubt it would make much difference to him at all.”
“Perhaps not,” Sorak said. “A man such as Valsavis usually takes what he wants with no thought for the desires of others. But you are far from a helpless female, and even given that, I have no intention of leaving you unprotected. I think we have both learned our lessons in that regard, thanks to the marauders. But I suspect that Valsavis has never met anyone like you before.” He smiled. “If, in fact, there is anyone else like you. Valsavis is a man who thinks very highly of himself. He certainly does not think much, if at all, of others. I would guess that women have either given themselves to Valsavis easily and willingly in the past, or else he simply took them by force. Either one would represent to him merely the satisfaction of his animal desires. Neither would represent a challenge, and challenge, above all, is what truly drives Valsavis. 1 doubt he cares about much else.”
“So then I represent a challenge to him, is that it?” Ryana asked.
“I would certainly think so,” Sorak said. “You are beautiful, but Valsavis has doubtless had beautiful women before. You are also highly intelligent. Most intelligent women would know to stay well away from someone like Valsavis, but a few might easily have been tempted by what they perceived as his aura of danger and unpredictability. They, in their turn, might have regarded him as a challenge. And the results, of course, would have been predictable, whatever their expectations may have been. But you are also a fighter, perhaps the most skilled female fighter he has ever seen. Villichi priestesses are known for being expert in the arts of combat, and you were the best back at the convent.”
“Second best,” she corrected him. “I never could match you at swordplay.”
He shrugged. “Either way, you have mastered a skill to which Valsavis has devoted a lifetime of study. Whatever else he may be, he is first and foremost a warrior. And you are not only intelligent and beautiful but a warrior, as well, perhaps his equal in ability. I think that to a man such as Valsavis, that would represent an almost irresistible challenge. I suppose it’s possible he might try to take you by force, just to see if he could. But then, if he were successful, that would only lessen the thrill. How much more challenging to see if he could win you over, especially when he knows that you are already devoted to someone else.”
“Someone who is also a warrior, and the object of his mission,” said Ryana.
Sorak nodded. “Yes, if he is an agent of the Shadow King, as we suspect.”
“Either way, I do not like this at all,” she said. “We are facing enough danger as it is without having him around.”
And a voice within each of their minds suddenly spoke, saying, “I agree”
They stared at each other with surprise, and in the next moment, a small, desert dust devil came spinning into the room through the open window. Sorak moved back quickly, startled as it blew past him and alighted on the floor, a small, funnel-shaped whirlwind of dust and sand that, in the next instant, lengthened and expanded, transforming itself into Kara, the pyreen known as the Silent One.
“Forgive the intrusion,” she said, “but I had to speak with you in private. I do not trust this man, Valsavis. I was told to expect you two, but not him.”
“Then you have communicated with the Sage?” asked Sorak eagerly, recovering from his surprise at her sudden and dramatic appearance.
“Say rather that he has communicated with me,” Kara replied. “I promised him that I would help you, but I promised nothing about Valsavis. His thoughts are inaccessible to me, and I regard that as a warning. There is an aura of malevolence about him, and of duplicity. I do not want him with us. Therefore, we are leaving now, instead of tomorrow evening.”
“We do not trust Valsavis either,” Sorak told her. “We believe that he may be an agent of the Shadow King. Nevertheless, I thought that it would be easier to keep an eye on him if he were with us rather than trailing us. Valsavis is an expert tracker. He will doubtless follow us to Bodach. We cannot prevent him.”