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
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.
Imoshen stood at his side. She picked up her cloak and swung it over her shoulders, covering her bare breasts. The great cat came to her and sat at her feet. Tulkhan felt his horse shudder with fear.
The hunters followed the dogs, crashing up the slope. Tulkhan expected the dogs to attack but they slunk back and forth at the edge of the tree line, howling eerily, not daring to come closer.
The Ghebites pulled their horses to a halt and looked across the open ridge top. At that moment Tulkhan knew he was no longer one of them. Because of what he had experienced with Reothe and what he felt for Imoshen, he had taken a step across an invisible line. He might jest and hunt with his men, but in his heart he would walk alone because he had been touched by the T’En.
‘General?’ one of his men called uncertainly. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I am unhurt. The hunt is over.’
‘Witch!’ someone hissed.
Tulkhan raised his voice. ‘My horse threw me, kicked me in the leg. Imoshen tamed the cat.’
A round of uneasy comments greeted this.
‘She’s in league with the evil one!’ someone cried. Tulkhan thought he detected a Vaygharian accent.
‘There is no evil one.’ Imoshen spoke softly, yet her clear voice carried. ‘Only the evil in men’s hearts.’
Tulkhan grimaced. Trust Imoshen to speak a truth his men did not want to hear. Their muttering grew louder.
‘The hunt is over. Go back to the stables.’ Tulkhan urged his horse forward, eager to break up the group before they resorted to violence.
Imoshen walked beside his horse, her head level with his knee. The cat matched her step, never leaving her side.
It was a long trek back to the stables. Imoshen and Tulkhan parted company from the hunters at the ornamental lake and made their way to the menagerie.
The keepers wept with joy to see the snow leopard returned unharmed and Tulkhan felt great shame to think that he and his men had been ready to kill the animal for sport.
Following Imoshen’s instructions the keepers prepared the menagerie’s barred cart and she climbed into the cage with the snow leopard pair.
‘We will take the cats out of town to the outskirts of the farms beyond before setting them free. They will make their way into the highlands,’ Imoshen told Tulkhan.
He wanted her to promise that she would not go south with the snow leopards, but his pride wouldn’t let him. He hesitated, unsure what to say. After all, she had come to warn him of a plot against his rule. She was right, much was against them.
‘Imoshen, be on your guard.’
A soft laugh escaped her. ‘You have seen what I can do and yet you tell me to be careful?’
‘I know how much you risk.’ Risking his own arm, he slipped his fingers through the bars of the cage to grasp Imoshen’s hand. ‘Though you refused to heal me, you did not leave me.’
Imoshen’s eyes narrowed. ‘Remember that when they come to tell you of my treachery, General.’
On returning to the palace, Tulkhan found it abuzz with Imoshen’s latest escapade. The servants whispered that even T’Reothe had not seemed so T’En. Truly, Imoshen was a throwback to her namesake, T’Imoshen the First.
Shape-changer, his men hissed. White hair, white cat, white witch.
It was the stuff of legend and the Ghebite warriors were as quick as the palace servants to spread the story.
Chapter Fifteen
THAT EVENING IMOSHEN lay alone in her bed, listening for Tulkhan’s step. She was determined to mend the breach between them. They had grown close while escaping the snow cat and she was sure he would open to her, but she heard him walk right past.
Throwing back the covers, she padded to the connecting door and peered through as Tulkhan made up his simple bed before the fire. She ached to go to him yet dreaded his rejection.
As he lay brooding, Tulkhan heard the softest of sounds and looked up to see Imoshen illuminated by the fire’s flickering flames. For a moment he wondered if his need for her had conjured her.
She crossed the chamber and knelt beside him. ‘How is your leg? Let me...’ Her hands went to his thigh but he pulled away, certain that if she touched him he would be lost.
Imoshen flinched. ‘Why do you shun me?’
He looked up at her. Tears glistened in her eyes and her hair hung loose on her shoulders. She appeared vulnerable, yet he knew what she could do.
He swallowed. ‘You bear the same marks on your chest as Reothe.’
‘Not by choice. I told you he called on the Ancients to draw me to him.’
Tulkhan tore his gaze from her. If Imoshen with all her gifts could not stand against Reothe, what chance had he, a Mere-man? Truly, he was a dead man who walked and talked.
He turned away from her.
After an eternity he heard Imoshen rise and return to her room. Alone again, Tulkhan covered his eyes to hide his hollow soul.
IMOSHEN TRIED TO pretend that it didn’t hurt when people refused to meet her eyes. Twenty days had passed since she had freed the snow cats. No one had broached the subject with her, but the rumours were more damaging than direct confrontation.
Tulkhan filled his days with feverish activity and by night she heard him pacing, consumed by something she did not understand and could not ease because he kept her at a distance.
‘T’Imoshen?’
She glanced up to see a palace servant looking distinctly uncomfortable. The woman gave the old obeisance.
‘Yes?’ Imoshen straightened, putting aside her reading.
There was a muffled shout from the room beyond and several people shoved past the servant. Imoshen’s hand went to her dagger but, even as her fingers closed around the hilt, she realised these people were not a threat.
‘We won’t be kept out. The Empress would have seen us!’ declared a stout matron.
‘And so will I,’ Imoshen said easily, rising and approaching them.
For an instant the woman and her three companions simply stared at Imoshen.
The matron recovered first, making the deep obeisance. ‘It is our right to be heard.’
Imoshen smiled at her belligerent tone. ‘Then speak. I am listening.’
‘For nearly three hundred years my family have lived in our home. We don’t want to live anywhere else. You tell him that we don’t want another house.’
The others joined in noisily.
‘Wait.’ Imoshen held up her hand. ‘Who is asking you to leave your homes?’
‘The Ghebite General. He’s tearing down our houses!’
‘What?’ Imoshen bristled. ‘When?�
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‘Right now. We were given notice the day after the Spring Festival. The Beatific said she would speak with him, but this very morning his men arrived and began destroying our homes.’
‘I will see this for myself!’
Imoshen marched out of the palace with an escort of angry townsfolk following close behind. There were others waiting in the square.
As they led Imoshen through the streets of old T’Diemn, she heard wails of distress and the sound of builders at work. She rounded the end of the lane to discover the source of the disturbance. Ghebite soldiers had moved all the families’ personal belongings out of a row of houses and were demolishing the buildings.
‘What is going on here?’ Imoshen demanded of the first man she saw.
He flinched at her tone. ‘Following the General’s orders.’
‘And where is General Tulkhan?’
He pointed and Imoshen strode forward followed by a crowd of townsfolk. Little children skipped ahead of her, shouting and calling to their friends.
She found the General standing beside a kitchen table which was perched incongruously on the cobbles amid piles of pots and pans. The table was covered with large drawings and two men were discussing these with Tulkhan.
‘General?’ Imoshen greeted him, aware as always that his Ghebite companions resented her presence. ‘I would speak with you, alone.’
‘Of course.’
A boy chased his pet pig past them, calling it by name. Several children raced after him, eager to help. The General’s eyes met hers and she smiled. But she waited until Tulkhan’s men moved away before speaking. ‘Why have you thrown these people out of their homes?’
‘They received notices. They’ll be relocated.’
‘That’s not what I asked. Why are you doing this?’
‘I’m securing T’Diemn,’ Tulkhan said. ‘Take a look at this.’
Imoshen glanced down at the plans for T’Diemn. ‘What has this to do with my question? You can’t turn people out of their homes.’
Tulkhan tapped the drawings. ‘This other Reothe was an excellent engineer. See how he designed the streets of old T’Diemn so defenders could be marched to each of the four gates to hold off attackers. He also left the inside wall free of buildings so that troops could be rushed along the ring-road to reinforce a breach in the wall. But over the years people built right up against it, destroying access.’ Tulkhan rolled up the plans. ‘I’m removing the houses which interfere with the defensive integrity of the wall.’
Dark Dreams Page 28
