The Forbidden

by Lori Holmes

  “What don’t you understand?” Eldrax sneered as he stepped up to Hanak’s brother.

  The other man simply pointed. Eldrax followed his direction and saw the paw prints leading off into the snow. At first he could not figure out what was so complex about the trail, then he saw a set of very familiar footprints intermingled with those of the wolves. His heart leaped. So… not so pathetic after all.

  “Is she tracking the wolves?” Tanag asked incredulously. “Why would she do that?”

  “No, fool, she’s travelling with them.”

  “But-”

  Eldrax did not have time to explain to this idiot. “Prepare for a fight. The wolf pack has what we desire.”

  “But that pack is at least twenty strong!” Hanak protested. “We are only ten in number.”

  “And what of it? I never thought of you as a coward, Hanak.” Eldrax’s tone was mild but Hanak would not be able to mistake the dangerous undercurrent.

  “My chief,” Tanag ventured. The other warrior swallowed visibly when Eldrax turned his dark glare upon him but forged on nevertheless. “Is one weakling woman worth such a risk?”

  “Weakling woman?” Spinning on his heel, Eldrax grabbed Tanag by scruff of his neck. With his other hand, he ripped aside the furs at his chest, exposing the scarred, mangled flesh to the other man. “Look well, boy! I should be dead and yet here I stand as your chief. To possess such a one, I would risk ten times your number! I will have that witch and when I do, no one will question that we were the ones to kill the Black Wolf. We will be respected and feared from the Mountains of the Nine Gods to the Witch Forests of the south!” He released Tanag with a rough shove. “Until we find her or her corpse, we will continue to hunt and if you dare question me again, Tanag, you will not live to see another dawn.”

  Fear and resentment settled over Tanag’s face but he fell silently back into line next to his brother. Retaking point, Eldrax led his men on in the wake of the wolves. This little trick with one of the most formiable predators in the land only proved her worth and his longing to possess her found new depths.

  If she had thought a pack of wolves could protect her from him, she would be sorely disappointed for he was more dangerous than they. In fact, taking her from the heart of a pack would provide a refreshing diversion. The encounter with the monsters in the mountain forests had shaken his confidence more than he liked to admit. Winning a fight and taking the spoils that would come with it would go some way towards restoring his faith in his own power.

  His buoyant mood carried him on for the latter half of the day but he should have known better than to think that wolves would be the only challenge put before him. Eldrax cursed as the wind changed direction and took on a threatening chill. He knew what such signs foreshadowed and it wasn’t long before the clouds began to gather in force overhead. As the hunting party struggled to find sufficient shelter for the night, the lowering sky released its load of snow upon the lands.

  By the time Eldrax and his men awoke the next morning, a thick, blank covering had smoothed the details of the landscape in a secretive layer for as far as the eye could see. The witch’s trail was no more.

  Blind with rage, Eldrax lashed out with his spear, swinging it in an arc. His men took a nervous step back but he ignored them. He had lost. There were pathways upon pathways leading in all directions through the hills and gullies and, without a trail, there was no way of knowing which direction his prey had taken. He could search for her until the seasons turned and still find no sign. Juran’s mate had eluded him.

  “My chief.” Eldrax snarled, furious that one of the cowards had dared to draw his attention. It was Tanag who once again shifted under Eldrax’s dark gaze. “What does it matter if we have lost the trail? If she survived the storm, then we already know where she will be headed.”

  “Do we now?” Eldrax lifted his spear and pressed the tip against Tanag’s chest. “This had better be good, Tanag.”

  The young warrior weighed his words. “She is alone, she has no one to turn to. She knows what will happen if another Cro clan happen upon her. Worse if the Thals catch her. The only place she will ever be safe is with her own people. She’s trying to reach her old forests. That means she’ll go south towards the Plains. We only need to head her off before she reaches the safety of the trees.”

  Eldrax’s eyes widened as the truth of Tanag’s words hit him. The other warrior had weighed his prey’s behaviour and gauged the next step like any good hunter should. Eldrax was frustrated that he had not done so sooner. He was letting his desire cloud his judgement. Mullishly, he dropped the spear from Tanag’s chest and heard the relief sigh from the other man’s lips.

  Turning the new insight over in his mind, he looked to the south. It would take her days to reach the southern forests and it would be a blessing from the cursed gods themselves if she made it there alive or without being captured. Time was running out and they were heading in the wrong direction.

  “We make for the Plains,” he commanded. “And we will not rest until we get there.”

  * * *

  9

  Nen

  When Rebaa awoke she was warm. Too warm. She could feel the beads of sweat rolling from her brow and her damp hair was clinging to her hot neck. She groaned, trying to roll over and put some distance between herself and the fire. She had come too close to the flames in her sleep.

  Dizziness swamped her as she moved and Rebaa struggled to open her eyelids. She wished she hadn’t. They scraped against her eyes, making them sting and water as the cave turned nauseatingly in her vision and her empty stomach roiled. She struggled to focus on the fire that was scalding her but it was no longer lit, only the charred remains of the wood smouldered on the cool air. Yet still she burned. She rolled her eyes shut again, coughing dryly.

  She was sick. Turning her senses inward, she could feel the fire radiating from her leg. The Thal’s crude treatment had not been enough to purify her wounds. The bear’s claws had cursed her blood. Rebaa whimpered as another wave of heat rolled through her body and the ground lurched beneath her. She needed a healer. She needed her brother.

  She felt rather than saw the shadow fall across her. Rebaa flinched and tried to move away but her body would not obey her commands.

  “Nagathe!” The word sounded like an expletive. Firm hands wound around her leg and Rebaa struggled against the grip. “Runuk!”

  Rebaa blinked. Red hair and brown furs blended together in her watering vision. She could make out a smudge of white which must have been the Thal woman’s face. It was shaking back and forth.

  “Bad blood.” Rebaa heard her sigh.

  Rebaa’s head was beginning to pound. She could not keep her eyes open and the heat of her body was becoming unbearable. She started pulling at her furs, attempting to remove them from her flaming skin.

  “Ahna!” Large rough hands grabbed at her own, halting their feeble quest to rid herself of the claustrophobic furs.

  “Leave me!” Rebaa tried to bat the hands away. She had to heal herself.

  “Ahna! Leave fur. Heat make better.”

  Rebaa ignored her. She tried to call on the energy of her body but her control slipped away like water. She could not heal herself alone. Her vision faded in and out.

  Cold water poured over her cracked lips. Rebaa sucked it greedily into her parched throat. She couldn’t get enough; her thirst was insatiable. She drifted again.

  She lost track of the passing of time as the fever took its toll. She existed in a half waking, half dreaming world. At times she had no idea of where she really was and couldn’t bring herself to care.

  Sometimes she thought she heard a low voice chanting from close by and saw what looked like the Thal woman crouched over her legs while waving a bunch of smouldering dead leaves. It mattered little. This dreaming world was preferable to reality. She didn’t have the strength to fight any more. She was dying and that knowledge came as a relief. She had done her best to fulfill her promise t
o Juran, now it was time for peace. When the blackness washed over her again, she went with it willingly…

  Rebaa shot upright, disoriented. The flickering stone walls of the Thal’s cave were gone. Instead she was surrounded by the familiar hide-walls of home. She was no longer in any pain, not even the pain of hunger plagued her stomach. She was warm and comfortable. Thick fur blankets tangled around her naked body. She blinked and then-

  “Rebaa?” Juran sat up beside her.

  He was there. His grey eyes regarded her in mild concern as his long mane of dark auburn hair tumbled over his strong dark shoulders. She could feel the living warmth radiating from his skin.

  “Oh!” Rebaa threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his bare chest. “I h-had a terrible dream.” Her voice hitched. “There was a battle. You were dead. Everybody was dead. I was dying. Dying and I was completely alone.”

  “Shh,” her mate soothed. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

  Rebaa shook her head and pulled back to give him an accusing stare. “You left me. You went back to die and left me alone to save our child. But I couldn’t…” The words began to tumble out. “I couldn’t do it! I can’t survive without you. How could you leave me? How could you?” She was so angry, she beat her fists on his chest as the tears poured down her face.

  Juran caught her wrists, halting her attack with little effort. “Rebaa. Rebaa.” He repeated her name until she stopped struggling and looked him in the face. “You, who have lived through what none other of your race ever has, should know yourself better than that. Never once have you given up on anything in your life. You can and you will survive. Whether the gods wish it or not, you will save our child. I trust you to always keep him safe. You always find a way.”

  She shook her head vehemently but Juran only pulled her back into his arms, kissing her forehead. “You need never be afraid, for I will never leave you.”

  Liar. She wanted so badly to believe him. Liar. “Please let me stay. I-I don’t want to be alone any more, there is so much pain. Please… I want to be with you.” She rested her heavy head against his chest and let her eyes drift closed. She was finally at peace. All she had to do was let go…

  “No,” came the firm answer, startling her. “You have to go back. You have to live and save our son. You promised me.”

  Tears spilled over her cheeks. “I can’t.”

  “Yes you can. Survive this, Rebaa.”

  “No.” Stubborn, she tried to pull him closer…

  “Survive!”

  Her fingers came up against cold hard rock. Juran evaporated from between her arms as the fur-lined walls of her old home morphed back into the unforgiving rock of the cave. Rebaa screamed out loud as the full force of her loss washed over her anew. She pounded the empty ground with her fist. “NO! I can’t. No. Liar!”

  Gasping, Rebaa pressed her face into the furs beneath her body. Breathing deeply of their musty scent, she fought to regain the tenuous control she had struggled to maintain since the loss of Juran. Once she was sure her emotions had been pushed far enough down, she tried to get herself upright. Her arms shook even with that minor effort and her head swam. Her throat felt parched; she needed water.

  The cave was dim with pre-dawn light. Ninmah had not yet risen and she was alone. There was no sign of the red-headed Thal. Rebaa remembered flashes of Red standing over her as she had battled the curse of the bear’s claws. She couldn’t decide now if she had imagined the whole thing in her weakness and delirium. It was ridiculous that a Thal would help her.

  She swallowed then gave a wracking cough as the motion irritated her dry throat. Water. Rebaa pushed herself to her feet. She swayed slightly as she fought to gain her equilibrium. Her wounded leg shook but held under the barest weight as she stumbled to the cave entrance. In her hazing mind, she knew only one thing, she had to carry on, she had to keep moving.

  The outside world filling her bleary gaze was still and silent. She was in the mid ranges of the foothills at the centre of a wide gully that swept down from the higher hills above. The cave in which she had resided was set into a hillock covered in dead grass and tumbled rocks. The landscape before her feet fell away into the vast Plains far below. The cold pinched at her exposed flesh.

  Rebaa grabbed a handful of snow and stuffed it in her mouth to quench her fierce thirst as her sluggish mind attempted to separate dreaming from reality. She needed to hurry, she needed to get out of these foothills and set out across the Plains. Once she reached her home, she would be safe. Once she reached her home, the only threat would come from her own people.

  Rebaa pushed away from the cave, struggling off through the snow in the direction of the Plains. She fought to keep focused. Everything appeared to be covered in a thick yellowish haze that she couldn’t be free of. She kept her head low as she travelled, keeping her higher senses on the landscape around her. Unlike her eyes, they were clear in their vision. But using her skills like this was getting harder the weaker she became. A hare vibrated in its nest but no other signs of life could be felt. Her leg screamed in protest and she had to rest often, her body shook from the punishment of moving.

  The wind cut like a knife. It seemed to Rebaa that the icy gusts wanted to punish her for escaping from their deadly kiss but they had blown the storm on towards the north and Ninmah’s golden light spilled uninterrupted over the distant hills. Ninmah was no less forgiving than the wind and She stabbed mercilessly at Rebaa’s flinching eyes but the knowledge that she had lived to see Her golden spirit rise one more time gave Rebaa comfort.

  Keeping Ninmah’s rising face on her left, Rebaa picked the easiest route through the slippery and twisting rocks. She searched for the barest sign of anything edible but saw only rocks, snow and bare, isolated trees. Rebaa swallowed down her growing fear. She would not last much longer without nourishment. She would find something. She had to believe it.

  Juran’s voice floated unbidden through her mind. You will always find a way… She blocked it out, she could not let herself think of him. She had to forget her hunger and what might be. All she could focus on was to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  Ninmah was clear of the hills and riding at her zenith when Rebaa came to a halt. The winding path she had been following fell away before her in a dangerously steep slope. Her wounded right leg burned fire, threatening to give out with every step. She did not have the energy to spare to heal it; the act of standing was taking everything she had.

  She limped one way and then another, searching for another path that would lead her on her way. She did not want to tackle the slippery slope in her current condition. She had to minimise the risk of further injury as much as she could.

  Her search proved to be fruitless. Unless she gambled travelling further off course in the hope of finding another way down, the treacherous slope was her only option. She was weakening. The slope was risky but to go off course looking for other ways was more so; time was not in her favour.

  Gathering herself, Rebaa started down the path, leaning back to keep balanced. Beneath the snow, the ground shifted and rolled under her weight. A scree slope. She tested the ground with her toes before placing each foot, hanging on to fixed rocks and dead tree roots with her hands. She slipped and slid often, occasionally sliding a whole gut-wrenching body-length before she found purchase once more. Her breath started to come in short gasps from the effort. Her palms were cut and stinging from holding on.

  Reaching a tree root, Rebaa paused. The next handhold was out of range. Her good leg was braced beneath her. With the way she was balanced, the only way to move was to trust herself to her wounded limb. Gingerly, she shifted her weight forward, stretching out for the tree branch that lay just out of reach.

  Her leg gave way, crumpling beneath the strain as her weight shifted onto it. She could not re-balance herself. With a soft cry, Rebaa lunged for the branch but only managed to catch air. She tumbled away, rolling over and over.

  Curling in on herself i
n a desperate attempt to protect her baby, the dislodged stones pounded against her body as she fell. She hit the bottom in a heap, feeling the air whoosh out of her lungs on impact. Fighting for breath, she kept herself locked in a protective ball, closing her eyes tight as the shifting rocks and snow continued to slide down the slope, cascaded around and over her, hissing on all sides until it snuffed out the light.

  Rebaa did not know how long it took for the landslide to stop but when eventually the low rumble ceased she was in total darkness. She shifted against the weight of the rocks and snow above and found to her relief that they moved easily; she wasn’t trapped.

  Having ascertained that she could escape the rocky blanket, she turned her senses to her unborn. Rebaa prayed thanks to Ninmah that he was unharmed. She tested her body, wincing as she felt the new bruises.

  The rocks clattered away as Rebaa pushed herself into a sitting position. She felt a trickle start down her face and reached up. Her fingers came away bloody. A sharp stone had gashed her forehead but a quick probe told her the wound was deep. It could have been so much worse.

  Rebaa heaved herself to her feet only to collapse back to the rocks when she tried to take a step, her wounded leg giving way beneath her again. The strain of the descent had been too much to ask of the limb.

  Ninmah, preserve me!

  She just needed to rest, she told herself, sitting back amongst the rubble and resting her aching head against her knees; just a while. She tried to deny the knowledge that she was too weak, too wounded. The bear had sealed her doom. Just a few moments…

  Shifting her head to the side, she stared into the near distance. Her roving eyes paused as she spied a pile of objects sitting on the snow beneath a tree. They held her attention because they were out of place in the mainly white and black landscape. A pile of nuts. Rebaa blinked, sure her hazing sight was playing tricks on her but no matter how she tried to clear her vision, the nuts remained. Could it be…