Dark Dreams (35 page)

Tulkhan shifted in the saddle. He had the strangest feeling, a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. It told him he was being watched. He glanced up the rise. A cloaked figure stepped from the trees and looked down at him. He knew that pale form, those dark eyes.

An emotion which was equal parts dread and fascination gripped him. Right at this moment Imoshen looked Other, wreathed in T’En mystique. Yet none of his men seemed to notice her.

Tulkhan shuddered. Was he aware of her because he had been touched by both Imoshen and Reothe? It seemed he was growing sensitive to their gifts. Vulnerable, perhaps?

Anger warred with an urgency which was not his own. He realised she was calling him and he fought the compulsion to go to her. But it was overwhelming. Confronting her was the only way to escape her pull. He let the others ride on and turned his mount to the rise where she waited. Her red cloak was bright against the white snow, obscenely bright, a splash of fresh crimson blood.

At last he faced Imoshen who looked up at him, her chest rising and falling as if she had been running.

‘Well?’ he demanded, not bothering to dismount.

She would have stepped forward, but stopped when he jerked the horse’s reins and the creature sidled away.

‘I have news of a plot to aid Reothe,’ she said.

It was so unexpected he snorted. ‘Why tell me?’

She flinched. ‘They will tell you that I am part of it and I’m not. Don’t let them do this to us, General!’

The pain in her words lanced through his anger but he maintained his distance. If he let his guard down she would claim his soul, and then, he suspected, it was only a matter of time before Reothe’s prophecy was fulfilled. Since the night the rebel leader had saved Imoshen, Tulkhan’s dreams had been filled with visions of his own death.

He was growing to believe he would never rule Fair Isle, never live to see his son grow to manhood. It was all a shallow dream. The blood of his Ghebite army would enrich the soil of Fair Isle and his memory would be a tavern jest, no more.

‘So tell me about this plot,’ he said coldly.

‘Why should I betray my own people when it’s obvious you despise me?’ Imoshen turned, her red cloak swinging in a defiant arc as she darted away through the silver trunks.

Tulkhan urged his horse forward in pursuit of her. Imoshen was hampered by knee-deep snow. He took his time catching up to her, letting her know who was in control. Yet, as she looked over her shoulder he caught a flash of something in her eyes and wondered if he wasn’t playing into her hands.

Annoyed, he closed the distance between them. Coming abreast of her he leant out, caught her cloak and pulled her off her feet. She twisted and writhed, resisting him with surprising strength. Either he had to let her go or leap from the horse. Swinging his leg over the saddle he threw himself forward. They went down in a tangle of limbs as the horse galloped on.

Cursing, Tulkhan caught a flash of Imoshen’s furious eyes before he hit the snow, pinning her face-down under him. The force of the fall knocked the wind from his chest. Stars flecked his vision.

She recovered before him. Only by tensing his muscles was he able to stop her from flipping him off.

She muttered something hard and angry under her breath.

He hugged her to his chest, pinning her arms. ‘So who is in on this plot?’

She arched in silent protest, then the fight seemed to go out of her and she melted into the curves of his body. Without warning he felt the liquid heat of desire flow through his limbs and her scent made his head swim.

‘Don’t try to distract me!’

‘I do nothing. If you lust after me, it is your weakness, not mine.’

‘Don’t tell me you don’t know what you do.’

She laughed bitterly. ‘If you would think with your head for a change, you’d ask yourself why I came out here to warn you.’

‘Trick me, you mean. Do you think to win my trust with half lies?’

‘You are a... a Ghebite dog!’ she spat, panting with anger. ‘All rutting and –’

He laughed. ‘Is that the best you can do?’

‘Tulkhan, listen. Because of what happened to Cariah and Jacolm, the Keld are mobilising support for Reothe. When he leads them to invade the city they will call on me to join them. They expect me to turn you and your army to stone.’

‘As if you could. You’d die trying.’

‘It is enough that they think I can do it.’

‘Who thinks this?’ He tightened his hold on her. ‘Who, Imoshen? Name them and I will have them arrested, their lands confiscated.’

‘That’s right,’ she gasped. ‘That will really make the others trust you.’

‘What do you expect me to do?’

No answer.

‘Well?’

She remained obstinately silent.

At last he loosened his hold, allowing her to sit up and face him.

‘The nobles plot to overthrow me. What would you have me do, Imoshen?’

‘I don’t know!’

The despair in her voice touched him. ‘Imoshen?’

She shook her head, brushing impatiently at her tears. ‘So much is against us, General. Sometimes I...’ A sob escaped her.

He gathered her to him. Her tears were salty on his lips, her breath hot on his skin. How could her touch be a traitorous lie?

Earnestly she pulled away. ‘We must be strong in ourselves, strong in each other for the sake of our people, and for...’ She took his hand, guiding it to her belly where he felt a small, firm swelling.

It was his child, nestled safely within her. She smiled, shyly. A deep joy flooded him. He kissed the tears from her cheeks. It seemed to him that all his life had led to this moment in the pristine cold air with Imoshen in his arms.

She returned his embrace with fierce passion. Tulkhan didn’t want to go back to the palace and his advisers, who sought to convince him Imoshen would be his downfall. He wanted her now, but that would mean laying himself open to her. He could not think for the urgency of his need.

Suddenly she froze.

‘What?’

‘It can’t be!’ She sniffed the air and her eyes widened. ‘What were you hunting?’

‘A big white cat. My men let it out of the keep to hunt.’

‘A snow leopard?’ Her nose wrinkled as if she was smelling the predator’s rank scent.

He sniffed, then tensed for he could smell it now.

‘Move slowly,’ Imoshen advised.

Tulkhan uncoiled to his feet, searching the ridge. His mount had paused a body length away. The horse rolled its eyes fearfully but obeyed its training despite the instinct to run. Then Tulkhan saw the cat, a patch of deeper white moving through the drifts. ‘It’s below us, heading this way.’

Imoshen came to her knees. Dragging off her cloak she rolled it round her right forearm. ‘Do you have a weapon?’

‘Only a ceremonial spear. It is supposed to be a clean kill, man against beast.’

Imoshen muttered something derogatory in High T’En, then she was on her feet, backing up the ridge. Tulkhan spoke soothingly to his horse as he collected its dangling reins.

‘Could we outride the cat?’ he asked.

‘Not two of us on a single mount through heavy drifts.’

‘Then mount up,’ he urged. ‘I’ll stay and distract it.’

‘No.’

‘Imoshen, don’t argue. I’ll have the spear.’

She laughed. ‘I’d like to see you tackle a snow cat with a spear. I’ve seen what they can do!’

‘You’ll get on the horse, Imoshen. You have to, you can’t risk the child.’

‘Of course.’ Her wine-dark eyes burned with resentment. ‘I keep forgetting. That is all I am to you, a brood mare.’

He caught her around the waist, intending to lift her onto the horse. The sudden action startled the beast and it reared, knocking them both aside. Its hoof struck Tulkhan’s thigh with great force and his leg crumpled under him. A groan of pain escaped his clenched teeth.

Imoshen scrambled out of his grasp. Her eyes searched his face as her hands felt his leg. ‘The bone is not broken, but –’

Angry with himself, he pushed her away, struggling to one knee. His leg muscle protested as he tried to stand. In a few days he would have nothing but a limp and a fading bruise, but he didn’t have a few days. ‘Get on the horse, Imoshen. Leave me.’

‘No.’ She met his gaze steadily. ‘I will not leave you.’

The horse wheeled, its body trembling with fright. Tulkhan called it softly, but the beast danced away, taking the spear with it. Cursing, he removed his cloak and wound it around his forearm.

Imoshen slid her shoulder under his, grasping him around the waist. He knew a moment of sheer frustration. Here he was without a weapon, injured, unable to defend himself or Imoshen.

‘This way,’ she urged.

Each time his injured leg took even a little weight, sweat broke out on his forehead.

The trees thinned out as they approached the crest where his mount waited. It snorted nervously, standing near the edge of the cliff. Behind it was only sky.

‘Wait here.’ Imoshen guided him to a small building where he sank down gratefully onto the step.

As protection the structure was useless. It had a roof, a circle of elegant columns and no walls. Tulkhan could just imagine the courtiers of the Old Empire strolling through the woods to this lookout to enjoy the view while servants brought them food and entertainment. What a strange idle world the T’En had created, where form outweighed substance.

‘Is there a way down the cliffs?’ Even he could hear the strain in his voice.

Imoshen darted to the edge to peer over the drop. ‘There’s no path down. The river lies below but there’s a wide patch of broken rocks, we’d never make it if we jumped.’

‘Good. I don’t want to jump. I can’t swim.’

She grinned and padded back to him. Crouching, she covered his hand with hers. ‘We’re trapped, General.’

‘You should have taken the horse when you could!’

She smiled fondly. ‘As if I would.’

‘Heal me.’

Her eyebrows drew together in a frown.

‘It is an emergency,’ he told her. ‘I’m not asking you to break your vow.’

Her nostrils quivered as she inhaled angrily. ‘Does this mean you accept the T’En side of me?’

‘Not now, Imoshen. Heal me,’ he urged. ‘Then at least I can defend us from the great cat.’

‘You set it free to kill it for sport. It is only doing what wild cats do, following its nature.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You would have me deny my nature yet use me when it suits you.’

In that moment Imoshen looked so Other that Tulkhan fought an instinctive surge of fear. Then he noticed the horse had drawn closer. ‘Get my spear.’

She looked down the slope to the snow leopard. ‘There it is. The perfect killing weapon.’

The beast had crept into the open, where it crouched in the snow, so still it was almost invisible.

‘When it charges you won’t see it coming,’ Imoshen whispered as though fascinated.

‘If you will not heal me, at least escape. Get on the horse and flee. It will come after me. I’m the easier prey.’

She studied him sadly. ‘It’s kill or be killed with you, isn’t it?’

‘Imoshen...’

She ignored him, stepping forward to meet the cat.

‘No, Imoshen!’ With a groan he struggled to his feet. But the short rest in the cold had made his injured muscle seize up, and he could not stand. He fell to one knee, helpless and furious. ‘Imoshen, I forbid it!’

Her soft mocking laugh hung in the air between them, reminding him forcibly of Reothe.

He wanted to howl with frustration. He looked for the shape of the white cat in the snow but couldn’t find it. The beast had moved.

Imoshen’s hands rose to her neck. The sharp rent of tearing material cut the air and the cat answered with a scream of its own. The primal sound elicited an equally primal response in Tulkhan. The sweat of fear rose on his skin, chilling him to the core.

A helpless groan escaped him as Imoshen dropped to her knees, baring her breasts to the beast, her head thrown back, arms outspread.

Desperate, Tulkhan slewed his weight around and called softly to his mount. As soon as the horse ventured close enough, he dug his hands into the saddle girth, using it to pull himself upright. The spear was strapped firmly in place. His fingers fumbled with it. He expected at any instant to hear Imoshen’s scream as the cat attacked. His blood roared in his ears.

Clumsily, because he was holding onto the horse’s saddle to stand, he turned and hefted the spear in his hand, praying for one clean throw.

Too late – the beast was on her.

What was it doing?

Stunned, Tulkhan tried to make sense of what he saw. The great white head of the leopard nuzzled Imoshen’s neck, then it stepped back and sat looking at her for all the world like a tamed pet.

She rose unsteadily to her feet, her hand sinking into the winter-thick fur at the cat’s neck.

When she turned, a gasp escaped Tulkhan

Between her small breasts were three parallel streaks, claw marks welling with blood. One part of his mind told him he had seen this before. But he could only think that she had somehow tamed the cat.

She lifted a trembling hand to her throat. ‘I promised safe passage for it and its mate out of the city.’

‘You talk to beasts now?’

She watched him from Otherworldly eyes, impervious to his humour. ‘You must not let your men kill it. I cannot go back on a promise.’

A promise to a snow cat? The horn sounded and he heard the baying of the dogs.

‘Get on your horse, Tulkhan.’

‘I don’t think I can.’

‘Try.’ Imoshen came up the slope to join him. ‘I’ll help.’

There was a strong smell of predator on her hands. The scent triggered a memory, he had smelled it on her once before. He frowned as he recalled it was the morning she’d come to him on their bonding day. Those marks were the same as the ones Reothe carried on his chest.

‘What does this mean?’ He took her by the shoulder.

She shook her head. ‘Up.’

With a grunt of pain he swung his bad leg over the horse’s back. ‘I can’t stop the dogs, Imoshen. They act on instinct.’

Even now he could see the pack heading up the rise towards them. The sun broke through the low clouds, bathing them with its ethereal silver glow.