“I can take care of myself,” growled Kane. “I’ve managed it for twenty-six years without her help. The Red Demon has only appeared in dreams and she has never harmed me.” He pulled a small book out of his weave and hurled it across the room. It smacked against the wall above Kyr’s head and dropped to the floor.
“There’s a first time for everything,” replied Kyr. “You have no notion of what she wants from you.” He pushed himself from the hay and reached down to retrieve the book. He turned it over in his hand. “Why do you carry Aja’s book?”
“It’s not your mate’s,” grumbled Kane. “It belongs to Issa. She left it behind when she disappeared eight years ago. I’ve kept it.”
“In this time…” Kyr’s voice was sharp and he tossed the book back. “It’s Aja’s. Best get accustomed to these riddles if you love the woman. You do love the woman?”
Kane caught the book and turned it over in his hand. “I don’t know if I love Issa,” he said. “I only know she’s mine. She’s the one I want. She’s the one I’ve wanted since the day we raced our horses across the short grass plains eight years ago.” He glanced at Kyr. “You think I’m a fool for wanting her. Only a fool would want a woman who leaves him behind, wants a woman who thinks she must protect him.”
“No. I think you’re a man in love with an Empress. It’s not an easy thing and every man in love thinks himself a fool. As I said, Women of the Blood are a law unto themselves. They do as they wish and we fools follow.” He put a hand on Kane’s shoulder. “I’ve stood in your place. The fear you feel for Issa, I’ve felt for my own woman. Not long ago, Aja asked me to watch her die. It would have been kinder to rip my heart out and feed it to me. Issa tries to spare you that. Perhaps you are better off for it. Ask my brother. He’ll tell you the same. Women of the Blood follow their own path.”
Kane turned away from Kyr and both men stared out the open doorway. The snow fell in sloppy fat flakes, covering the horses’ backs with white. The stallions stomped and snorted in the cold, Tristan and Bes.
“If I’m not there,” said Kane, his voice carrying out into the paddock, “she’ll die. Tell the Empress, convince her. If I’m not there, Issa will cast her life away for fear she’ll lead them to me. She’ll allow herself to die to break this Blood Bond. If I’m there, I know for sure and for certain I can save her.”
“And if these Black Frocks capture you? What if the Red Demon takes you? What then? What of the future?”
“I don’t give a Godsdamn about the future. I only care that Issa is alive in mine.”
Trying his level best to mask the elation he felt, Coppi booked passage on the first transport to Ottorum. It mattered little that the vessel was a waste scow. He’d done it, by the God, he’d done it. He’d achieved in one month what the Black Frocks and their seekers had failed to achieve in eight years. He’d found her, the woman with the mahogany hair and gray eyes, the one reputed to be the Thousand Year Empress.
It had been so easy to fool her bone-headed brother. It took little encouragement to convince him to look the other way. And now he, Coppi Hesh, carried a package of priceless seedcakes into which he’d mixed a great deal of her blood.
Women, Coppi scoffed.
What woman had ever been any match for him? All he’d had to do was threaten her and she’d held still and let him cut her, tears welling in her fearful gray eyes. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry he would have taken her.
Yes, he assured himself, he would have taken her, this Thousand Year Empress, if his mission hadn’t been so important. Not that it mattered. With the coin he would receive from the high priest, he could buy himself the finest whores in the Empire. Coppi made his way to the mess hall to ask for the purser. He found the man lifting a pint of home brew.
“I need a private cabin.”
“Aye?” The man lowered his mug and looked him over from head to toe. “Do you, now? And a maid servant to bathe you, I suppose?” He snorted. “I’ll see what I can do for you on our next voyage.” He returned to his drink.
“I have the coin,” said Coppi, drawing a small pouch from beneath his weave. He shook it and the purser lifted his head. He watched the man’s nostrils flare. “How much for a private berth?”
“How much you got?”
“Twenty pir.”
“Twenty pir will buy you a week of meals, but no private berth.” The man sipped his drink and studied the pouch. Coppi could see him trying to guess how much coin was within.
“Sixty pir, then. That’s all I have.”
“Aye then, sixty pir and you’ll have your own berth, but you’ll have to scrounge your own meals. I’ll not be serving you. Calen men are nothing but trouble. Think you’re better than everyone else. You should stay with your animals.” The man wrinkled his nose. “You reek of them.”
And you smell like gack shit, thought Coppi, but he kept his mouth shut.
“Mr. Fis,” called the purser. A small man joined them at the table. “Take this gentleman to cabin six. See that he has blankets and show him how the locks work. We wouldn’t want him to lock hisself in for a week now, would we?” The man laughed at his own joke.
Coppi turned to follow Mr. Fis. He felt a rough hand grasp his arm.
“The sixty pir?”
Without a glance, Coppi tossed the pouch on the table and left the room. He told himself to remember purser’s face. Once he had his reward money secured, he’d find the son of a Chigalla and make him eat his words. Better yet, once he had his money he’d hire someone else to make the man eat his words.
Book III: Reborn
“Issa, we must get some rest. We’ve been in the saddle for five days with nary a break.”
He knew his sister was trying her best to ignore the truth of his words.
“Upo, we have mere weeks remaining before the Black Frocks arrive. Already they descend upon us and mix freely, holding open services, offering their blasphemous sacrifices. The townspeople have fled to the hills and left everything behind. The snows have been heavy this season and our people will begin to die. We have to mobilize as many men as possible and we must find shelter for every single refugee.” Issa stopped her horse and turned tired eyes on him. “When did you last hear from Kane’s men?”
“Just before we met up at Hakon Pass. They’ve spread the word to take in every Calen man, woman and child before the snows deepen and the passes close.” He studied Issa’s face. Her obvious fatigue worried him, but the sorrow he saw in her eyes concerned him even more. He knew it had to do with Kane’s disappearance, but she’d refused to discuss it. “Issa, you need some sleep. You do yourself and your people no favors by pushing this hard.”
Issa didn’t respond.
“One of my men has a cabin not far from here. We can sleep and there will be fodder for the horses. Listen to reason, sister. You know as well as I that our mounts need rest. Come, Issa, let’s stop for one night and we’ll have new strength to climb back into the saddle tomorrow.”
When Issa nodded in a vague way and followed him without protest, Upo’s concern for her increased. She was not one to agree to anything without an argument. She never had been.
Perhaps some sleep and a hot meal will help lift her spirits, Upo thought, but he found himself filled with doubt. Until the Black Frocks were defeated his sister would work herself to the bone, recruiting fighters, guiding the refugees to shelter, hiding their valuable livestock in secluded mountain meadows. Perhaps when Kane returned from wherever she’d sent him the light would return to her eyes. If he’d had a way to contact the man he would have done so, but he knew Issa had sent her mate out of his reach.
Upo shivered at the thought that she’d likely sent him out of their time. Whatever the case, she refused to give him any explanation, only saying she’d removed her consort for his own safety.
At the sight of a lighted window, Upo pulled up. Issa’s horse, trotting close behind him, automatically did the same. Issa’s eyes were closed and he wondered if she sle
pt that odd sleep of hers. She could doze in the saddle, yet somehow manage to see where they were headed through his eyes. Of his sister’s many abilities, this one made him particularly uneasy. It always had, and he wondered if she could hear his thoughts as well.
Upo shook himself. Whether she could or no, she was his sister and she loved him. She’d never given him a reason to fear her.
Upo dismounted and helped Issa off her horse. She murmured something in her twilight state, but she was so exhausted that her legs refused to hold her. Upo lifted her in his arms and strode to the door.
“The Empress requires sanctuary,” he shouted to the men inside.
The door was flung open. Upo recognized P’kit and his men, along with some of Kane’s fighters. He brushed past the two men guarding the door. He carried Issa into the warmth and he laid her before the fire. The men crowded around.
“Is she ill?” One of the men asked, gazing over Upo’s shoulder.
“No,” replied Upo. “The Empress is tired. She needs sleep and then she’ll need food before we move on.” Upo removed his sister’s wet boots and stockings and wrapped her in a thick weave.
She immediately turned her back to the men and fell into a deep sleep.
Upo’s friend P’kit handed him a flask of raw spirits and he took a long drink, grimacing as he felt the liquor burn all the way to his toes.
“Thank you.” Upo returned the flask and grabbed a hunk of dryebread from the table. “Report,” he said, keeping his voice low so as not to disturb his sister.
“Two more transports arrived today,” said one of the fighters. “I counted four hundred of the Black Frocks and at least fifty of their paid scum. Twenty-four tried to leave their compound.”
“And?”
“Dead. We left the bodies in plain sight.”
“Good,” replied Upo. “Let them bury their own dead.”
“Ha,” scoffed a third man. “They’ll leave them for scavengers. The unholy ones have no regard for the living or the dead.”
“And our men?” asked Upo. “Any losses?” He heard a chorus of nos. “Have they taken our women or children?”
“Not to our knowledge,” replied P’kit. He offered the flask again. “The villages and settlements have been abandoned for a moon, at least. Any off-worlder caught wandering about is disposed of quickly.” The man looked around. “I can’t speak for any other region, but I can speak for Tista Province and we have been vigilant.”
Upo glanced at his sister’s immobile form. “She says they’ll continue to gather here, all of them, from every corner of the Empire. This is where we must concentrate our forces. We can’t afford to spread ourselves thin. How many fighting men can we raise within the next ten days?”
“With the two neighboring provinces, upwards of twenty thousand,” P’kit replied.
“Then we will be outnumbered two to one,” said Upo.
“But the unholy ones carry knives only for the killing of innocents,” spat another man. “We have yet to meet with a single one who knows how to use a weapon properly.”
“And those Chigallas from the slums of Ottorum?”
“Some are trained, but they are no better than street thugs,” said one of Kane’s men. “They do not ride and they cannot use a sword. We have the advantage there.” The man grabbed the flask from Upo’s hand and took a long drink before handing it back. “They are nothing to us. They only threaten when they carry a pistol or a laze gun and then we must keep out of range.”
Upo raised an eyebrow. “Have we suffered any wounded?”
“Two or three men. Flesh wounds only. We wait until the off-worlders are drunk, and then we kill them and steal their weapons and any ammunition they carry.”
Issa moaned in her sleep and all eyes turned to her.
“You are certain our Lady is well?” asked a man sitting near the stove. “It would go hard with us if something untoward should happen to her.”
Upo ran a weary hand through his braids. “The Empress is merely tired. We’ve had little sleep over the past five days. I’ll join her in a moment if you men are prepared to stand watch. Once I shut my eyes I may not open them until morning.” He returned the flask to P’kit.
P’kit tossed Upo a blanket. “Rest,” he said. “We’ll keep watch.”
Upo nodded and wrapped himself in the thick wool. He lay with his back against Issa, supporting her, warming her, protecting her. He slid one hand under his head and held his sword loose in his other hand. He was asleep in a few heartbeats.
Issa walked through the forest near Aja’s settlement. It was late summer and the moss grew thick and soft, springy beneath her bare feet.
She didn’t remember returning to this time. She searched her tired brain. Last she remembered was viewing the cabin through Upo’s eyes. It had been snowing. Yes, it had been snowing and cold, but now the sunlight fell like a curtain of lace through the rustling leaves.
She felt so warm she tossed her weave aside and walked on, clad in only her trousers and her thin tunic. The breeze tickled the back of her neck. Issa smiled as she undid her braid and shook her thick mahogany tresses down over her shoulders, letting the tender air lift the curls. It had been over a month since she’d let her hair down.
She wandered along the forest path, wondering if she dreamed a dream or if she relived a memory. The many fragrances drifting her way were alive, fresh, green and ripe. The bark of a tree, when she reached out for it, felt rough and dry against her fingertips.
Real enough.
There was movement far to her right, probably some animal slipping through the trees. Issa ignored it, content to be warm, relieved to feel something in her heart besides dread. Just ahead was a clearing and she spotted a flat rock, perfect for sunning.
Issa hurried her steps, removing her clothing and dropping it to the ground as she approached the smooth, warm surface. She closed her eyes to search the dream for any danger. Finding none, she stretched out on her back.
The midday sun warmed her, covering her like a blanket of the softest winat wool. Issa closed her eyes and sighed with contentment.
“Issa?” The voice near her ear was low, masculine, familiar.
“Hmmm?” How long had she been drifting? A broad, calloused hand caressed her upper arm. Eyes still closed, Issa inhaled. She smelled Kane—spicy wood smoke, horse sweat, grass hay, clean man.
Yes, to dream of Kane was to dream a good dream.
“Why have you stranded me in the past? I should be by your side.”
Issa turned over and willed Kane to speak of other things, or better yet, make love to her. She hadn’t come to this place to talk of a future she wouldn’t change. She heard a deep laugh and she lifted her head, confused. This was her dream. She was the Thousand Year Empress.
No one dared to invade the Empress’s dreams without her permission, even Blood of Her Blood.
His hand smoothed the hair from her face, tucking a few wayward strands behind her ear. Issa sat bolt upright and stared into the face most dear to her. Kane looked like an angel. His braids were undone and his long golden hair hung to his hips. Like her, he was naked, his tall solid muscular form beautiful in the sunlight.
Tears stung Issa’s eyes at the sight of her lover. “How have you entered my dream, Kane? You should not be here. You should be with Aja and Kyr.”
“This is no dream, Blood of My Blood. Since you would not bring me to your side I’ve called you to mine.”
Issa leapt to her feet. “You cannot call me anywhere,” she hissed. “I am your Empress. You have no power over me. I must return to my people. Upo and the men will be terrified. They will believe I’ve abandoned them. I must return to my time.”
She spun around, panicked, realizing she didn’t know how to return to her own time.
Kane’s hand circled her upper arm and he held her fast. “You are no longer in time, Issa. You have nowhere to return.” He pulled her hard against his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. He felt rea
l and warm, alive and vital. Issa cried out with wanting him.
“Kiss me,” Kane said. “And I will show you how a Man of the Blood takes his Empress.”
Issa ripped her arm from his hand and ran for her life. She could not be with Kane, not now, not ever again. To love the man, to make love with him, to allow him to see into her heart, to see into her body, would break her and she could not allow that to happen.
She’d made her decision. She was committed to her course.
Running all out, Issa slammed into Kane’s hard body. Stunned, she landed on her side in the grass. She groped to her knees and began to crawl away.
“You can’t run from me,” he said. He swept her up into his arms. “I’ve created this place. I see your plan, my love. Death is your aim.”
“Death is the only answer,” Issa whispered.
“No,” replied Kane. He tightened his hold on her. “You think to trade your life for mine. You think I don’t know about the child you carry, my child. You will not do this, Issa. I cannot allow it. There is a third way. I choose life for us and for our child.”
“But if you do, if you remain with me, even if we defeat the Black Frocks she will take you away and you will become like her, a god, a demon, I don’t know which. I can’t bear the thought. I cannot let you become an Abomination.”
“It will not happen. I swear it. I will not let her take me.” Kane lay Issa down in the soft, warm grass and pulled her body against his.
“My love…” Issa kept her voice as gentle as his had been rough. “I am nothing more than a means to an end for both the Black Frocks and my sister. My blood leads the way to you. You are their goal.” Her hands caressed his chest, damp now with sweat. “The Black Frocks remain unaware, thank the Gods, but my sister, Tem, she wants you. Only Aja and Ennat can protect you. She will respect them, but she would crush me. She knows I will not resort to her foul methods. I will not sink so low, even for you, my love, I’m sorry. So I’ve sent you away to a time where you are safe. You can live on and build another life.”
The Daughters of Persephone : A Space Opera Page 21
