The dreams came uninvited and unwelcome. In this dream, I was not myself, not as I knew myself. I was some other being far beyond my human comprehension, at basis a primal female though my shape changed. At first a red bear, lumbering through woods spotted with new sun. My mate was near, but I hid from him, expecting him to chase. I could hear him, knew when he sniffed the air and found my scent, felt his eagerness rise. With a shudder of anticipation I ran, crashing through the brush, teasing him with my sounds. He ran faster than me, I allowed it, and he made noises of impending triumph as he neared.
When he got too close I changed into a rabbit and bolted away, my spirit laughing in victory. He roared and was after me again. His body was hungry for mine, his mouth thirsty for my taste, and I laughed at him again. His shape changed even as mine did, from a black-pelted tiger to an enormous raven and back again. He came close and I danced away. There was never a doubt as to how this contest would end.
I would win, and take his seed. He would win, and spill his seed inside me. The world would be renewed within us, within my womb, with the new life that would burgeon there.
I took to my heels in the form of a human woman. I shrieked when he caught me and scratched at his face, twisting in his arms. He stood taller than me, his eyes glowed yellow in the darkening wood, and from his head sprouted a stag's horns. Calming at his kiss, his wondrous kiss, I lay back on the mossy ground, my body already eagerly compliant for his. As he bent down to take me, he changed. His hair grew longer and his face lean, his skin pale and his expression wolfish. He was Iceblade, Tirk, and I was Ada, both of us bared to each other. His violet eyes blazed with a fierce and exquisite passion, I felt the same fervor within me.
I sat up suddenly as I wakened, my body shaking, and not all from shock. Part of me was screaming for his touch, to finish that dream, to end this pleasurable agony. "No," I whispered, tormented. Looking up I saw that Selas had awakened with me. He stared at me in the flickering light of the fire, and I felt fear and shame that he could know what the dream had been. I prayed I hadn't been sharing my vision again.
"Are you well, witch's daughter?" he asked. "Have you dreamed?"
I sighed with relief, a minute shudder racking my body. "Just a nightmare. Nothing important. I'll be fine in a moment." He gave me a skeptical gaze. The weight of his eyes burdened me.
"You don't look it."
"I just need some more sleep," I blurted out, then lay down, turning on my side, facing away from him. He let it be.
It took another full day before the storm calmed, leaving behind heaping glittery snowbanks under an icy, starry sky. We loafed about as we waited, feeding the donkey, waiting for our things to dry. Nefen told me his story, how he came to the pass above Narwich where Wyntan and I found him.
He had been traveling in the Harborlands, to the northeast of Dragon's Tooth. His father had encouraged him to do so while he was still young and unmarried, and he had acceded quite willingly to his father's wishes. As his travels continued, he realized he had been gone nearly a year, and decided to head home over the Northern Pass before snow fell. His favorite aunt was expecting a child, and he had gifts for the mother-to-be and the soon-born baby. Having been gone so long, he anticipated a homecoming filled with joy and much laughter, his mother's tears and his father's gruff pride.
He found his home destroyed. The village of his birth was burned almost completely to the ground, not a soul living moved within. His father and mother lay at the door to their home, his father's body protectively covering his mother's. Even in death the man showed his devotion to the woman he had loved since childhood.
The rest of the extended family lay scattered about the home like discarded trash. His aunt lay in her bed, her feet up on pillows, her head nearly split in half, her great belly making a mound of her bloodied dress.
At first Nefen had been so filled with rage and anguish he could barely see. When he finally calmed himself, he set to placing his family in their crypt, saying a prayer over each body. His family laid to rest, he had turned his eyes to the trail of ruin left by the crows army. Though it took him some time, he followed it back as far as he could, to the Narwich pass.
We sat in silence for a moment after Nefen told us his story, shared with us his grief. I reached out and squeezed his hand, unable to offer more in the way of comfort. Wyntan settled his hand on Nefen's shoulder, then the others did in turn as well. Nefen thanked us all and gave us an smile, appearing much older than he was.
To relieve the mood, Samar showed us a dance she knew, pushing the table off to the side. Her slim and sinuous body, well muscled now from training, was beautiful in motion. She started her dance slowly to the rhythm clapped out by her audience, going faster and faster as we quickened our clapping. She kept up with us until we were clapping so fast one clap was barely distinguishable from the next, then she collapsed, laughing soundlessly, onto the floor. After her I had a turn, though I only did half so well as she. Wyntan and Daltorn stepped up and the four of us, the brothers, Samar and I, performed an impromptu corners dance. Each of us took one direction, Wyntan at the north, Daltorn at the south, me at the east and Samar at the west. Hands outstretched, we gripped the other's hands in turns, whirling between our spots and back again. Nefen sang for us in his rich baritone, the Song of Seasons, and Selas finally joined him.
Dinner was stew again, this time prepared by Daltorn while Selas and I lugged in snow in buckets, to place by the fire to melt.
Though the storm settled at last, Selas decided to stay the night in the cottage again. He didn't want to risk injuries by trekking through a strange area in the snow, in the dark. I soaked up the luxury of sleeping indoors near a fire, in a bed, while I could, though I was careful not to touch Samar, fearful of triggering her flashbacks.
We readied to leave the next morning. As we packed, Daltorn leaned toward me, speaking in a hushed voice, checking surreptitiously to be sure Samar wouldn't overhear.
"That man, in your vision, was he Iceblade?"
I stared at the big man, into his clear hazel eyes. Unlike his younger brother, his thoughts were as open to me as an uncovered water jug. In his thoughts I read with surprise and some sadness his love for the slender, scarred woman, and his intent to avenge her. The sadness sprung from my sense that his feelings were not returned, that Samar left herself no room to return such gentle emotions. "No, that was Tirith, Iceblade's brother. He's the rapist."
"Then that's the one I'll see on my blade." Daltorn spoke with deep force, a grimness I'd never heard from him. Without warning, he lurched at me, then fell over, trapping me face down beneath him, my pack beneath me. He rolled off immediately only to find Samar over him, one hand on her saber, the other signing furiously at him. I knew if we looked we'd likely find her narrow bootprint in the middle of Daltorn's back. Wyntan shoved Nefen aside as the two of them rushed to help me up. I glared at both of them and hauled myself up.
He is mine! Samar signed at Daltorn, emphasizing with a shake of her saber. His blood belongs to me! He nodded once, holding her gaze.
"All right," he said. "I'll see that it is, if that's in my power." She nodded, then held out her hand to help him up. The big man accepted her help, if only as a token.
She looked at me expectantly.
"His name is Tirith," I repeated. "He is the half-brother of Iceblade. They share a mother. If he comes to me while you yet live, I will not touch him." Nefen and Wyntan spoke their agreement. Selas ignored us, but I knew he listened. Whether or not he would heed Samar's wishes was beyond me to know.
The snow was as deep as our thighs for several miles, and it took us a full day to reach the head of the river, a skinny lake kept unfrozen by a spring beneath it. We were completely exhausted by the time we made camp that evening. The air was warm enough to make the snow sticky, and we set to building a rough shelter from the snow, with a smoke hole in the center.
"To the north of Holden," Selas said as we sat around the fire, eating our evening
meal. "There's a people who live entirely in small villages of less than a hundred people. They have no heart-city because they have no royalty, and no nobility. Some of the villages make their homes out of blocks of ice cut perfectly to fit together in a dome. They look a bit like this."
"So you have been to Holden!" Wyntan said triumphantly. His brother clapped him on the back, laughing.
Selas gave them a glare that was weak by Selas' standards. The old man seemed mellow and relaxed tonight. Maybe pure exhaustion had its benefits.
"Of course I have, you callow boy," Selas said at long last. "I helped to escort the High Queen Hyndla back to be wed to High King Guin, when she was Princess of Holden. Our group wintered in Holden that year. They don't shut themselves up indoors in the winter up there like we do here. If they did, they'd never see the outdoors."
Wyntan and Daltorn immediately started clamoring for more information, especially if he knew anything about dragons. Selas waved them off. "Never saw one while I was there." And the old grouch shut his mouth firmly.
Nefen spoke up. "I saw a dragon. While I traveled this past year, I saw a dragon just over the mountains, up in the Harborlands. It was bigger than a house, and covered in black oily scales. The Harbormen said it spits poison and eats sheep by the herd. It's even taken some people who had the misfortune to meet it far from town."
"If it still lives when we are done with this war, we should hunt it down and kill it. What a prize!" Daltorn said.
"A fight for strong men," Nefen agreed. Glancing at Samar, he added hastily, "And valiant women!"
Samar grinned and shook her head. Not for me, she signed. Her fellow warriors looked disappointed. After the battle, I rest.
"Me, too," I said. "And head back to the lant fields, I guess. If there are any left."
Nefen gave me a sidelong look, his light hair hanging over his face. "You really were a field worker?"
"Yep," Selas interrupted. "And a damn fine one. She's always been the hardest worker I know." He tilted his head back and stared down at Nefen as if daring him to make some derogatory statement.
I felt a blush of pride that Selas thought so well of me, and that he was prepared to defend my honor, such as it was. "It's not like I had anything else to do," I said.
Nefen looked at me with interest. "Nothing? No man to care for?"
"That's no one's business," Wyntan began hotly.
I shrugged. "None would have me, I guess," I said.
"When you were a child, Bevin told the village she'd curse any man who took your maidenhead," Selas said. "My guess is she didn't intend to curse your husband, but she didn't specifically say that, and after she died, no one wanted to take a chance."
"Oh." I didn't know whether to laugh or be angry. Then, in shame, I said "I cheated, you know, Selas, in the fields. I used a spell. My mother had one for untangling, that's how I could pick the lant faster than you."
Selas gave a guffaw. "That's not cheating, that's using your head for something useful, instead of stopping the flat of a sword's blade." He gave everyone his customary glare and spoke with no thought of being disobeyed. "Time to bed down."
Chapter 6
He Knows
Iceblade was sitting up in a dark red chair near yet another rich bed in a bedchamber in another castle he stole. The walls were dark grey stone and hung with pale tapestries to alleviate the gloom. There were arrow-slit windows with leaded glass and a fireplace with an opening wider than I was tall. Several huge logs burned in this fireplace, warming the stones and casting a dancing light across the large room. When I turned back to face him, Iceblade was standing much closer to me. He looked around intently, centering on where I stood.
"I know you are here, spirit. I've been waiting for you. And I know who you are," he said. I froze in shock. His rough voice washed over me like a rain of silk, and his words went through me like shards of ice. He pulled his black hair back behind his shoulders, then crossed his arms. "I dreamed of a forest, and you were there. I chased and you lured, and I saw your face, and I knew you. Ada, the hidden beauty. The bride promised to me by the Dark God, at her birth." The narrow handsome face was dark, the rare violet eyes burning.
I raised my hand to ward off his words. His spirit and his body called to mine, and with a sick lurch, I realized I'd make myself flesh right there if I could. "No," I whispered, and he heard.
"Yes. Ada. My Ada."
I moved back from him. As if sensing my withdrawal, he stepped forward, his hand out as if he could touch me.
"And I dreamed of you tonight, huddled in a shelter made of snow. Surrounded by strange men and a scarred woman. I saw how he looked at you, I saw how he wants you. I awoke and I called you here. I called you to me."
I moved farther back, and found the wall solid behind me. Again he stepped closer.
"Because you are mine. You belong to me. And I... I am yours." He spat out the last sentence as if he cursed himself by speaking it. "I will take Lalinth Castle, I will have Guin's head, and then you will come to me."
"I will come, and I will kill you," I said. He laughed as the room began to fade from my eyes. As he disappeared, I heard him speak a last time.
"He may not touch you, because you are mine!"
Nefen was shaking me awake, Wyntan and Selas awake behind him. "What has happened?" he asked when I sat up.
"What?"
"You cried out in your sleep," Selas said in his usual bitter tone. "You threatened to kill someone." Daltorn and Samar roused at his voice, expecting orders.
"Iceblade," I said after a while. I could not tell them all that had happened. How could they understand what I couldn't, and it was inside me? They would surely turn from me in disgust. "He knows me now. He knows my name. He knows I'm coming for him." The silence following this statement was oppressive with the crowding worries of my companions.
"What does this mean?" Daltorn asked.
How, Samar signed.
"We shared a nightmare, I guess, a couple nights ago," I said. Selas' eyes narrowed and I avoided his gaze, knowing he was remembering me awakening that night. "I don't know what this means for us."
"Will he be ready for us? Is the danger greater?" Selas barked.
"I don't think so. He doesn't know about the Wood."
"You don't know what this means for us," Wyntan said quietly. "But what does it mean for you?" His eyes held mine, his steady and sure gaze helping me to remain as steady and sure myself as I could. But he couldn't know the truth of what this meant for me, and I could not find a way to tell him or any of my companions.
I looked down at the ground. My skin felt suddenly pale and painfully transparent. "It means he waits for me."
"But you won't be alone, Ada," Nefen said. "We will stand with you. He may wish to destroy you, but he has to get through us to do it." I looked up, saw the pledge in his silver eyes.
"Aye," Wyntan said in a hard voice. "He may be ready for you, but we are all ready for him." I looked around, saw them all nodding, even Selas.
"You may all be ready," I whispered. "But only my hand can destroy him." If, I added silently, I can even raise my hand against him when he is before me.
It took us four days to reach the city I had pointed to on the map – Remanil, the heart-city of Banbrigg. This meant I had four days in which I obsessed about my situation with Iceblade, berating myself mercilessly. I felt that my secret was so ugly and so heavy that it would crush me and no one could know why. The others watched me, I know they sensed something was wrong. Selas had to order me to eat because I kept forgetting what I was doing whenever we stopped to rest. They spoke but I rarely heard them, and replied even less. There was a fear inside me that if I spoke too much, I'd blurt out my secret.
I noticed that my clothes had begun to hang loosely on me. Samar watched me with a kind of fear, Selas with puzzlement and perhaps a curled lip, and the others with concern. They worried that Iceblade in knowing my name had bested me already, but my name wasn't the problem. Sham
ed to my soul, I could not tell anyone what the problem was, except maybe Banning, and he slept more than he was awake now.
I came more alive when we reached Remanil. "But Iceblade thought he'd take this city by enchantment. He thought the royals would be subdued by it. This is the place we saw back at the cottage, with the Queen and her daughter. Look at this place, it's been destroyed."
"Let this teach you something, witch's daughter. And you, you diaper bottomed young ones! You may plan for a battle to the smallest degree, but no battle ever goes completely as planned," Selas lectured. "And some, some are just a chain of bite-you-in-the-ass."
He won here, Samar signed at the old man. No big bite.
"You said there's a survivor, or something we're meant to have here," Wyntan said, turning to me. Though the city was silent, he unconsciously fingered the hilt of his sword, displaying the sense of unease we all felt in the gloomy quiet.
"In the castle," I said, eyeing the massive structure spread in the center of the city, looming over the skyline.
"Guess we better start looking," Daltorn said.
"Should we split up?" Nefen asked Selas.
"Let's make two groups." The old man gestured abruptly at Samar and Daltorn. "You and these two take the eastern side of the castle. The rest of us will take the western side." Selas was sending out thoughts that Nefen found me a distraction, so he'd be better off searching in another group. I wondered what kind of distraction I was, but I didn't like touching my friends minds without permission. Sometimes they would think something so strongly that I couldn't help but "hear" it. Banning woke up from his long slumber – days now – to give me a mental smirk at my confusion over Selas' thoughts.
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