Asena Blessed, page 16
part #2 of Altaica Series
‘I found Zimma earlier in the night. I have him contained,’ Vikram said.
‘He’s in the cells?’ Ratilal asked.
‘No, High Lord. I believed you would not want his treachery known. My second and I caught him and discretely locked him up.’
Ratilal let out a pent up breath. ‘Well done. You were correct. I don’t want the clan to know my own valet tried to kill me. What of the herbalist?’
‘Legitimate and, I believe, innocent. He’d instructed Zimma that the potion was to be diluted and used for a short time only. He was horrified at the thought that Zimma had not followed his instructions. He begged to tell your healer that he had put ground pedene seeds and carid bark powder in the mixture.’
‘Well, healer, what does that mean?’ Ratilal asked as he shook her arm. Malak’s face twisted in pain.
‘It may have ameliorated the damage to your insides.’
‘Why would he put this in, if he trusted Zimma?’
Vikram answered, ‘A standard precaution. Though he is in the lower city, he has a good reputation and wants it to remain that way. He knew Zimma was your man and has been so for years. He never thought that he would harm you.’
‘You believe him?’
‘Aye, High Lord, I do.’
‘What has Zimma to say?’
Vikram was blunt. ‘That, I believe, High Lord, you’ll want to discuss in private.’
Ratilal raised his eyebrow imperiously. Vikram cleared his throat. ‘I believe, High Lord, that his sister is one of Pramod’s girls. Niara is her name.’
Ratilal paled, immediately releasing Malak. ‘Leave me, all of you.’ Before they had reached the door, he added, ‘Mistress Malak, one more word if you please. Close the door,’ Ratilal directed Niaz.
Never once looking at his mother, Niaz exited the room, slowly drawing the door closed. Outside his hand lay clenched around the latch and his head rested against the cool timber. He cursed softly, reluctantly releasing the door knob; his hand fisting as if to pound on it, before he spun and left.
With the closing of the door, dread settled inside Malak. Ratilal stared at her, waiting for her to wilt under his gaze. Spine stiff, jaw clenched, she boldly faced him with only the barest trace of contempt in her gaze. He despised the fact that he felt some form admiration for her at that moment.
‘Niaz and I both learnt a lesson that night. You were right. You lost a son, I gained my most loyal man … and now you’ll never have him back.’ He smiled. ‘Get out, Mistress Malak, but don’t go far. I’ll summon you when my wounds need tending.’
‘My debt is paid.’
‘Not yet it isn’t. I’m high lord, you will serve. Now get out.’
Malak bowed and exited with all the appearance of calm grace. As she closed the door softly behind her, her fists balled by her sides and her nails bit into her palms. Tears welled in her eyes and she wiped her hand hastily across them.
Looking up she saw Vikram quietly watching her. She said softly, bitterly, ‘May the gods forgive us … we had a chance … yet we saved him. What have we done?’
* * *
Hamza saw Isaura leave and said to Karan, ‘He’s a good little horse. I can see why you put her on him. There’s no real dirt in him, but he’s a right little shit sometimes. She’s got whacking great purple bruises from him.’
‘It’s his only quirk. He doesn’t buck, bolt or kick. I thought he’d teach her.’
‘Has he?’
‘Slowly. He hasn’t bitten her in days.’
The closer Isaura got to Toshi, the more the mule fidgeted in the stall.
‘I’ll get the gear.’ Hamza returned with the saddle blanket and surcingle. The mule pushed against the door of the stall, snorting and pounding the floor with his front hoof.
Karan held out his hand. ‘Whoa, there now, ssh,’ he soothed. The mule subsided.
Hamza looked at the mule dubiously. ‘I’m not sure this about this.’
‘He’s calm now. Once he sees Isa again he’ll be fine.’ Karan opened the stall door for Hamza. The mule charged forward, knocking the two men into the dirt.
He raced straight for Isaura and Toshi. Toshi shot backwards on his tether, broke it and took off at a gallop, desperate to flee the enraged mule. Isaura stood with her hand to her forehead in disbelief as her guardian chased the little horse. She tried to merge with him, yet hit a wall of rage and hate that blocked her.
Karan and Hamza ran to the nearest horses, mounted and pursued the rogue mule. They didn’t have to go far. Jaws open, the mule snapped at Toshi’s rump and a streak of red flowed down his rear. Toshi stumbled. The mule lunged, seizing him by the crest of his neck and tossing him like a rag doll, tearing a massive hole through the top of his neck.
Karan and Hamza reached the two and managed to lasso the mule. He spun away from Toshi, kicking out at him and connecting with his cannon bone. Toshi screamed.
Bile rose in Isaura’s throat at the carnage the mule wrecked. Toshi, a bleeding mess, stumbled and limped away. She ran toward them, her leg straining with each step. Isaura fought to merge with the mule using her own anger at Toshi’s fate and her fear that her guardian would be hurt to break through the barrier between them. Stop! Why are you doing this? Stop now! Isaura plunged into his world. He flashed visions, interwoven with her own anxieties, of all her trials with the little horse. The fear that she would not be riding him enraged the mule. Dominating everything was his desire to protect her. His focus was now on the men with the ropes. The men were now the enemy.
Isaura reached them. ‘Stop!’ She stood between the riders and her guardian. Her hands reached out, halting them both.
You didn’t need to attack Toshi. I don’t like him, but he didn’t deserve this. He’s not an enemy. She walked toward the mule, her hand rubbed his face. He lowered his head until their foreheads met. All will be well. They won’t harm either of us. They just want you to stop hurting the little horse.
‘Loosen the ropes,’ Isaura ordered Hamza and Karan. They did not. ‘Karan, please. I have him, but he won’t tolerate the ropes much longer.’ All the while her hand still stroked the mule’s forehead.
Brusquely, Karan nodded to Hamza; they both released their ropes and Isaura gently removed them from the mule’s neck.
‘There now, see? It’s gone.’ Isaura channelled the Undavi; her words sent calming waves undulating through the air.
Hamza and Karan dismounted and went to Toshi.
Isaura rested her head against her guardian’s, unable to look toward the little horse.
Umniga touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze. ‘Well done, child. Well done.’
Isaura lifted her head, giving her a faint smile and noticed a small crowd had gathered, staring from a safe distance.
‘Take him back to the barn for the moment, put him in a stall,’ Umniga said quietly.
With her hand on his neck they proceeded back to the barn. His tension hummed through Isaura; the sight of the small crowd inflamed his distrust and she gritted her teeth as she struggled to pacify him.
The crowd parted widely. On the edge of the crowd to her left stood Elena, with Pio beside her. Distraught, Pio kept looking between the mule and the figures of Karan and Hamza bent over Toshi in the distance.
I’m sorry, Pio.
As they passed, Elena sneered and whispered to Curro, shaking her head. The mule pivoted and lunged at Elena. Isaura fought to control him. She gasped as a heady rush of power flooded her body and her mind filled with his rage. We could squash her. Elena pulled Pio in front of herself. No! Isaura seized total control as the mule reached over Pio to grab Elena. He stopped, snorted, stepped back and lowered his head in front of the boy.
Beads of sweat trickled down Isaura’s brow. This is not the way, but …
Curro moved in front of Elena. Nicanor leapt forward and pried Elena’s terrified fingers from Pio’s shoulders, scooping him up and taking him to safety.
Isaura raked her gaze across her friends. Their harsh intake of breath at seeing her changed eyes brought a cold smile of satisfaction to her face. She glared at Curro. ‘Move aside.’ He paled. She canted her head at him, sizing him up. ‘Move, now!’
Curro stepped involuntarily, haltingly, away from his wife—his disgust and fear plain. The rest of the group had moved back.
Elena darted away. The mule flanked her. Ears back, teeth bared, he snaked his head at her. She backed away and tripped over Isaura’s outstretched foot. Elena lay sprawled in the dirt, with Isaura’s boot planted firmly on her torso. Isaura stepped back, smiling as a hoof came to rest upon Elena’s chest. Don’t kill her. The command was ironclad.
‘Elena.’ Isaura’s voice was saccharine steel. ‘Elena, meet my guardian. Remember this moment, you malevolent, jealous shrew. The only thing standing between you and death is me. He wants to pound your head into the dirt and it’s very tempting to let him. It’s not the first time I’ve saved you …’ she looked at the rest of her friends, ‘… or any of you. I think it’s about time you remember that.’
Karan and Hamza approached Isaura. Her eyes darted to the prone body of Toshi. She took a deep breath to still the shaking that threatened to overcome her.
‘Brownie?’ Hamza shook his head in disbelief.
‘Brownie is dead. This is Alejo.’ Isaura’s voice rang sharp and clear. ‘His name means “the protector”. Remember it.’ She smiled at Elena still pinned under Alejo’s hoof. ‘And if ever you try to use Pio as a shield again, we will rip you apart.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Karan and Hamza walked on one side of Isaura and Alejo walked on the other.
‘How long can you maintain control?’ Karan asked.
‘Not much further,’ Isaura ground out.
‘We’ll get him in the stall again,’ Hamza said hurriedly.
Isaura, tight lipped, nodded. Alejo was angry and confused; she was trying to reason with him. ‘Toshi is dead?’
‘Yes,’ came Karan’s curt reply.
Isaura swallowed and her jaw tightened as she felt Alejo’s jubilation. That was a bad thing. You could have just given him a scare or a warning bite. Karan might not want us now.
‘He would not have survived the injuries,’ Hamza said quietly. ‘The neck wound was bad enough, but Alejo broke his leg. Karan put him out of his misery.’
‘I’m sorry.’ Isaura kept her eyes on the barn, grateful that they were nearly there.
Alejo walked reluctantly into the stall and Hamza shut him in. Sighing, Isaura relinquished control of his mind and sagged against the stall door. Alejo shook his head defiantly and belted the wall behind him, cracking the timbers. The Matriarch emerged cautiously from the shadows.
‘I could’ve done with your help earlier, Old Mother,’ Isaura said aloud for Hamza and Karan’s benefit—she was tired of secrets.
I’ve done all I can to help you with him, and it was little enough. The rest is up to you two to work out.
‘You think he’d target you for interfering?’
I have no doubt. He is potentially as powerful as we are. Together you will be more powerful.
Isaura stood slack jawed. ‘How do I fix this?’ He is so angry.
Indeed, but how did you feel after my gift, when you returned from The Wild?
Strong, angry. I wanted to fight with little excuse.
Exactly. All living things have a connection to The Wild, guardians more so; my clan even more. You were correct when you said that part of it now resides within you. Thanks to the Horse Lord you’ve begun to control its rage. Your guardian is like no other. He’s damaged and he is as strongly connected to The Wild as you and I. He has embraced it, like you, and it helps fuel his anger. Alejo sees everyone as a threat. Even your bond confused and terrified him. Now, he sees you as needing his protection. Isa-cub, Alejo will continue to kill without the slightest hesitation if he thinks you are threatened, unless you teach him control. If not, you must control him.
‘I don’t want to constantly control him, it’s wrong.’
Then you must teach him.
‘By the gods!’ Hamza whispered as he listened to this one-sided conversation.
Karan pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Hamza, not a word of this to anyone yet.’
Hamza nodded and closed his gaping mouth.
Isa-cub, you will not see us again until Alejo is more stable. I won’t risk my kin.
Isaura sucked in a harsh breath. ‘But I will see you again?’ she begged.
Foolish child, of course. Relieved, Isaura knelt and threw her arms around the Matriarch’s neck. The Matriarch licked her face as she pulled away from her.
Karan placed his hand upon Isaura’s shoulder. She remained kneeling, watching the Matriarch leave. He held out his hand, helping her to her feet. ‘Don’t worry, Isa, they didn’t help save you only to abandon you.’ Softly, he added, ‘Nor did I.’ Isaura spun, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head against his chest. Hesitantly, Karan embraced her.
Hamza looked away, cleared his throat and murmured, ‘I think I’ll just go and … um … find something to do … somewhere … else.’
‘Tell the others to leave for the lake. Isa and I will follow later and meet them there,’ Karan said.
‘I’m sorry,’ Isaura mumbled into his chest. Gods! I’ve latched onto him like some lovestruck idiot. She stiffened, released her grip and tried to step out of his embrace. Karan interlocked his fingers behind her back, refusing to release her. ‘I’m not usually so damn emotional.’
‘Some of it is due to the bonding process. It will settle.’
‘Some of it?’
‘You’ve had a harder time than anyone … ever!’ He chuckled.
Isaura thumped her fist on his chest lightly, but relaxed into his arms again. ‘Easy for you to laugh, I doubt you’ve a guardian whose grand plan in life is murder.’ Finally she looked up at him. ‘I’m sorry about Toshi. I’d no idea Alejo would do that. I didn’t know what to do.’
‘In the end what you did was amazing. I cannot seize control of my guardian like you did. I don’t know of anyone ever doing such a thing. Thank the gods you did though. None of us like Elena, but if he’d attacked and killed her, you’d find it impossible to get a training partner. As it stands they know you can control him. That will add to your reputation, not lessen it.’
‘That’s something I suppose.’
‘And you sat that sour woman back in her box.’
Startled, Isaura laughed then put her hand over her mouth to silence herself. She blurted out, ‘It felt so good. I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.’
Karan’s eyes never left hers. Let her go, man. It’s merely the damn bond.
Isaura bit her lip anxiously and needed to shatter the growing silence. ‘We’re not going with the others?’
His arms dropped from around her. ‘We’ll go alone. I’ll work with you both. Help you both.’ Slowly, as if fearing to be burnt, Karan put his hand upon her cheek.
Isaura waited, breathless—impatient. He can come to me.
Karan’s finger traced her jawline, then the edge of her lips. It’s not real –it’s the bond. His hand fell and he stepped away from her.
Alejo snorted and sprayed him with slobber. Isaura burst into laughter.
Karan wiped his face and glared at the recalcitrant mule. ‘Now, I’ve some ideas, but tell me what the old mother said, and we’ll work out what in Karak we’re going to do with this overprotective monster.’
* * *
Ratilal sat in his robe before his private dining table poring over maps with Niaz by his side. ‘I don’t want word getting out that we’ve crossed the river too early. This area has few inhabitants so a team landing here stands a better chance of moving undetected and finding the strangers.’
‘How many teams are you thinking of sending?’ Niaz asked.
‘Four, I think. Spread out here and here. And,’ he said with glee, ‘another team landing …’ His finger swirled above the map theatrically before he stabbed it down. ‘Here!’
Niaz gasped. ‘Really?’
Grinning, Ratilal clapped him on the back. ‘You’ll lead.’ Niaz paled. ‘This entire operation relies on stealth, perfect timing and Karan’s own spies. All their attention will be directed at our training camps.’
‘What’s to stop them crossing the Falcontine and hitting us early?’
‘Men, supply and winter. He’ll still be getting troops and supply. He’ll assume the ground is too swampy and we can call on men more rapidly than him. Even if Karan crossed, his supply routes will be longer than ours. If he hasn’t got what he needs from Targmur before the pass ices up, then he’s not getting it until the thaw. We do this and the psychological benefits will be a huge boost for us and utterly demoralising for them.’
A light knock sounded upon the door to Ratilal’s rooms. Niaz rolled up the maps and Ratilal moved to a chair by the fire. ‘Enter.’
Malak held open the door for Chatelaine Gita, who carried in a large tray of food and placed it upon the table. She bowed, but before she could exit Ratilal stopped her.
‘Chatelaine, how are the newcomers faring?’
Gita sniffed in disgust. ‘High Lord, we are slowly overcoming their ignorance; they are learning to be useful.’
Malak scowled at her statement.
‘Very good, Chatelaine, you are dismissed.’ With a twisted smile he watched her leave. ‘Why the scowl, Lady Malak? Surely it’s not the prospect of being near me again?’
Malak did not bow. She stalked to his chair and dumped her medical bag on the floor beside it. ‘I need to check your wounds, High Lord,’ she said curtly.
Ratilal’s hands gripped the arms of his chair tightly. ‘Answer the question, Lady Malak. I will not tolerate your insolence.’
Malak ground her teeth. ‘The good Chatelaine has no clue as to how the newcomers are doing. She has too much to do to adequately supervise them … and their treatment.’
Ratilal sat up straighter. ‘Their treatment?’
‘Your servants treat them like dogs. They make them sleep upon the floor. They eat only when the others are done and only what is left over. They don’t try to teach them the language, then have no patience when they don’t understand and strike them for it. They fear them usurping their positions here.’
