Lord Protector (16 page)

Rykar stabbed a soldier's horse, making the beast rear and squeal. Another Cotti trotted up behind him and raised his sword to chop off Rykar's head. Conash's warning yell made Rykar spin around, only to receive the sword in his throat even as his father tried to fling himself in between. Conash's scream mingled with his mother's and Alenstra's as Rykar collapsed, clutching his neck. A wolf's agonised howl rent the air, and Rykar's familiar attacked the soldiers in a frenzy of grief and pain.

The men cut him down before he reached them, impaled him on a spear and sliced off his head. Jarren charged the Cotti, his pitchfork lowered. He stabbed a soldier's horse, and the animal fell, screaming and thrashing. Two men jumped from their steeds and attacked the farmer, and Jarren fell to his knees with a spear in his gut.

Conash backed away, the sickly stench of blood twisting his stomach. He glanced at Rivan, meeting the cat's golden eyes, and his urging filled the boy's mind. Flee flee flee flee. His mother ran to her dying husband, Ryana clutched to her breast and Shinda clinging to her skirts. The Cotti laughed and jeered, allowing her reach him before one plunged his sword into her back. She slumped over her husband, and the girls fell into his blood with terrified shrieks. Conash cried out, frozen with shock, and stared at the harrowing scene with wide eyes. Alenstra stabbed one of the soldiers, drawing blood, but the man struck her down with a savage backhand blow.

Conash stood transfixed as the men turned towards him. One grabbed Orcal and shoved him roughly to another. A Cotti headed for Conash, his spear red with Jarren's blood, his eyes glinting with cruelty. Once again, Rivan's urging filled Conash's mind. Flee flee flee flee. As Conash turned to run, Rivan's scream rent the air. He leapt at the soldier and raked his sneering face with razor claws. The Cotti roared and smashed the wood cat aside, blood oozing from his cheeks. He stabbed at the cat, but Rivan dodged and leapt at him again. Conash turned back, shrieking as another soldier chopped at Rivan, slicing a shallow gash in the cat's flank.

Agony shot through Conash, and his knees buckled. Rivan's scream mingled with his as the soldier thrust his sword into the cat's gut. Blue entrails spilt onto the grass, and the cat writhed, biting himself in his agony. Conash thrashed as the pain ripped through him, clutching the illusory wound in his belly. The Cotti laughed at the cat's suffering, and one kicked him. Conash leapt up and charged them, beat them with puny fists and shouted until his voice broke. A soldier stepped forward and slit the cat's throat.

Blade sat up with a jerk. Sweat soaked the twisted sheets and ran down his face. His ears echoed with Rivan's scream, his throat ached and his muscles thrummed. The vision of the dying cat remained, burnt into his eyes like the image of a bright light. The darkness rushed in, mingled with the scent of incense and flowers. He struggled to orientate himself, the sights and sounds of the dream more vivid than reality.

Blade clutched his belly, where the imaginary pain lingered, knotting his gut, and sweat ran down him like blood. Rivan's blood. His hands were red with it, but he did not remember reaching the dying cat. The dream ended where his memory did, at Rivan's death. It was the same nightmare he had endured for many years, but had not suffered for many more. The sound of his gasping came to him through the numbness of his ears, and all his finely-tuned senses seemed dull and damaged. Someone touched his arm, and a soft voice called his name in an urgent, frightened tone. He jerked around, his eyes raking Chiana's face, and she shrank back, her eyes fearful.

"Blade?"

Blade looked down at his belly, lifting his hands to reveal its ridged wholeness. The pain ebbed, and the night air chilled the sweat that filmed him, making him shiver. Chiana lighted the lamp beside the bed, and its soft illumination gilded the tangled skeins of hair that framed her frightened face.

"Blade? Are you all right?"

He nodded.

"You had a terrible dream."

"I know." His voice was hoarse.

"I could not wake you. It is all right now. It is over."

He bowed his head and closed his eyes as Chiana pulled the blanket over his shoulders.

"You are freezing. Lie down."

Blade rubbed his face, and Chiana hugged him as the harrowing images faded. The old wounds of his childhood suffering, so long scabbed over, bled afresh. The pain, blood and terror were now as vivid as the day it had happened, and Rivan's screams echoed in his ears. His racing heart slowed and his gasps stopped. He lay down, staring at the canopy. Chiana stretched out beside him with a hand on his chest, watching him with deep concern.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He shook his head. "It was my familiar's death."

"I thought you no longer had that dream."

"I do not. Did not. Until now."

"Why would you have it again now?"

He hesitated, allowing the amazing, joyous realisation to sink in, then smiled. "He has been reborn."

She frowned. "Who has?"

"Rivan."

"Who is that?"

"You will find out soon enough."

Chiana sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Blade stared at the canopy until his sweat dried, then rose and pulled on his clothes. Chiana sat up.

"Where are you going?"

"For a walk. I need to be alone."

She lay down again. "You always are."

Guards snapped out of their sleepy poses when he passed, pretending that they had been alert all along. He climbed the stairs to the turret balcony that towered above the palace and gave a panoramic view of the surrounding city. There he leant against the railing and stared out at the distant forest beyond the metropolis, where somewhere, a she-cat had just given birth to a litter, and one of them was Rivan. He sighed a cloud of steam in the chill night air and raised his eyes to the stars, marvelling that a god should take the trouble to grant a wish to one such as he.

No, not a wish, he reminded himself. Payment for services rendered. Who would have thought that his bloody skills could earn such a reward? Or was this simply a twist of fate that Rivan was reborn thirty years after his demise, and Shamsara, seeing it, had used it to buy Blade's skills. That seemed a more plausible explanation, and one that did not please him, for it meant that the Idol of the Beasts had hoodwinked him. He glanced at the slithering black and grey silk that flew from the palace temple, its constant hiss an irritation.

Not only did it signify the mourning for Chiana's father, it also was in keeping with the waxing Death Moon that had set earlier, which Rivan had now been born under. Blade had also been born under a Death Moon, arriving three tendays early at the waning of the moon, much to his parents' consternation. The event had troubled the village seer, who had predicted that Blade would see much blood in his life. His parents had assumed it meant he would join the army and fight glorious battles for queen and country, but luckily they had not lived to learn the truth.

Blade closed his eyes and gripped the cold railing, trying to imagine what had happened after he had lost consciousness that day. Had his father's falcon survived, or his mother's house cat? The soldiers would have slaughtered Cavat and shot Keal, since powerful familiars were forbidden to women in Cotti. Ryana's humming bird would have died of hunger in the desert, as would Orcal's young doe.

Their familiars' deaths would have robbed them of the will to live, just as he had longed to follow Rivan. He had only glimpsed his siblings a few times before he had seen them die, or in the case of Orcal, helped to bury his body. He tried to remember the faces of the men who had murdered his mother and father, but they remained a blur, featureless shaven blobs, as they had always done.

Everything else about that day was preserved in his memory with crystal clarity, save for the faces of those men. Had they been amongst those who had dressed his little sisters in gauzy cloths and forced them to dance like brazen hussies in the sun? Had one of them sold Alenstra to the Cotti lord, and him to the officer who had kept him? They would be old men now, yet still he longed to kill them. Perhaps only then would his thirst for vengeance be slaked.

As the sun rose in golden glory over the city, he returned to Chiana's rooms, where she slept tangled in the sheets once more. If she had had the nightmare while he was away, it was over now. He gazed down at her for several minutes, wondering if he should wake her, then turned away with a sigh. Informing her of his departure would only lead to an argument, and he was not in the mood for one. Once more he had done as Shamsara wished and comforted her after her father's death. His duty was done, and now he was free to go. He headed for the door.

Chapter Twelve

Blade stopped his horse and gazed through the forest, trying to make out the slight movement that had caught his eye. A deer walked away, and he slumped. For three moons he had waited at his estate, much to Lilu's delight, foiling her efforts to fatten him up and taking some interest in the day to day running of his estate. He had not had the nightmare again, and spring had blossomed into summer. The Death Moon had waned and the Maiden, then the Warrior, had replaced it, until finally a Sea Moon had risen.

As the moon waxed, his restlessness took hold, overrode his usual patience and made him irritable. When he could bear it no longer, he had told Lilu he was leaving for a while. Her eyes had filled with tears, and she had looked away to hide them, but had accepted his decision. When he had said he would return within a moon she had forced a brittle smile and nodded, but he knew she did not believe him. For some reason, he could not bring himself to tell her the truth.

Now it seemed that his words would indeed become a lie, for he had been searching the forests for almost a moon, with no sign of Rivan. Although he sought shelter in villages as often as possible, he had been forced to sleep in the forest on many occasions, and had lost weight. Once he had become lost, and wandered for days in the wilderness until he found a stream, which he followed to a village.

Spying a clearing ahead, he urged his horse towards it, deciding to stop for the night and let the animal graze. As he reached the edge of the trees, a hush fell, and he stopped, glancing back. His horse whinnied, and he whipped around, all his internal alarms jangling.

Shamsara stood in the clearing, his beard snowy in the sunlight and his eyes twinkling with mischief. Blade sighed, a reluctant smile curling his lips as he dismounted and walked towards the old man. A sleek black mare stood beside the Idol, a grey owl perched on his shoulder and a spotted snow cat sat beyond him, washing its face.

"Well done, Shamsara, you managed to sneak up on me again."

The Idol chuckled. "I am good at that."

"I noticed."

"Unsaddle your horse, then we will talk."

When Blade had dumped his gear on the grass, he found the Idol sitting on a boulder he did not recall seeing before, and wondered if the Idol could change the landscape at will. He stood before the old man and cocked his head.

"Well?"

"Such impatience does not become an assassin, Conash."

"I have been patient for four moons. Longer, if you include the time before he was born."

"Indeed." Shamsara nodded.

"So where is he?"

"Close."

Blade squatted down, his gaze intent. "Will it be today?"

"Perhaps. You have done as I asked and made Chiana happy, but it has not touched you at all."

"Why should it?"

"I had hoped it would fan that spark in your heart. At least into a flame, if not an inferno."

Blade frowned. "What does it matter what I feel for her? You know I am devoid of such emotions. I have told you so."

"You are not devoid of them, you only deny them. You even deny her love for you, which is even sadder."

"She wed me for status, nothing else. That was made clear before our marriage, as I think you know. She claims to love me so she can control me. She has even had some measure of success in that regard."

"Thanks to me." Shamsara sighed and gazed at Blade. "I hope Tinsharon's gift is not wasted on you."

"Gift?" Blade snorted. "I think it is more likely you foresaw Rivan's rebirth, and used it to make me do your will."

"Ah, once more a pawn, used and abused by the powerful, eh?" The Idol shook his head. "You will find ill in everything, even the most precious gift granted to you by God. Such is your bitterness that you will not believe anyone could love you."

"Why should I? Why should they? There is nothing about me to love. Chiana could not think of a single reason, when I asked her."

"No, she could not, for she does not know what it is, but she does love you, and you know it. You even lie to yourself now, because you cannot accept it. You think others see you as you do, a loathsome creature devoid of redeeming qualities. A man twisted by the horrors of his past, mutilated by his captors and tormented by his guilt at the life he was forced to accept in order to survive. A cold-hearted killer and a liar. This how you perceive yourself, is it not?"

Blade nodded. "I think you have summed it up quite nicely."

"So why does the sight of blood sicken you? Why have you never killed just for the pleasure of it? Why did you save Lilu when she was beaten and avenge her suffering? Why did you rescue her son from his father? Why did you tell Jayon to flee when the Cotti came to your keep? Why did you beat Bolt for shooting woodland creatures? Why did you save Lilu from her horrible life and bring her daughter to court? Why did you save Kerra as an infant? Why did you weep for all the men you killed on the night you retired? Why -"

Blade stood up. "Enough! We have had this conversation before, and it achieved nothing. Nor will it now."

"No one paid you to do those things, nor did you gain anything by them. You did them because, under all that ice and bitterness, you are a good man, and many people can see it, even if you cannot. That is why they love you. Rivan's rebirth is a gift from God, Conash, not a convenient happenstance that I have used for my own ends. Of all that you have lost, he is the only thing God can return to you. Rejoice in his love. Accept it, and be happy."