“Why are you running toward the river? We need to get away, not be hemmed in on another side.”
Shadowdancer galloped onward like he hadn’t understood. Still hunched over his neck, she chanced a glance behind. A group of six horses gave chase. They were some distance behind, but still posed a threat. No normal horse could match a Santhyrian’s speed. But these horses were.
“How are they keeping up?” She didn’t expect an answer, and was mildly surprised when Shadowdancer’s thoughts touched hers. Still faint and almost whispery, but there.
“Unnatural magic.”
“I can hear you. Thank the gods.”
“I’m growing stronger now that I’ve put some distance between us and them.”
“Good. Why are we heading toward the river?”
“We’re going to cross it and double back to River’s Divide. We need to warn Prince Sorntar and the others.”
“There’s no safe place to ford. The river is too narrow and fast here. It’ll be suicide if you try to cross it now.”
“We have no choice. We’re being herded.”
“Kind of noticed we’re being chased.”
“Not chased. Herded.”
“Not much of a difference, as I see it.”
“If they had wanted to capture us back there, the horsemen would have surrounded us and then revealed themselves. They didn’t. They came at us from all the same direction, forcing us away from River’s Divide. Whatever their plans, they want us far from help. Unless I’m mistaken, they’re herding us into an ambush.”
“I hope you’re wrong.”
“I hope I’m wrong as well, but I doubt we’ll be so lucky.”
They continued in silence for a few moments. They were finally running alongside the river again when a new sense of dread tightened Sorsha’s stomach.
“You sense them ahead as well, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I was really hoping you were wrong.”
“Me too. We need to get back to River’s Divide. The fast moving water will carry us back toward the settlement as I make the crossing. I don’t care what power the Acolytes are feeding those horses, there’s no way a horse can make this crossing.”
“How are we going to make this crossing?”
“Do you trust me?”
“I do but…”
“Hold on then.” Shadowdancer gathered his powerful hindquarters and leapt out over the water.
“Never wanted to live forever anyway.”
His jump carried him out impossibly far. Dark water rushed up all around her, its cold embrace a shocking slap. Bareback, without anything to hold onto, she didn’t have a hope of keeping her seat and the wild waters tore her from his back.
“Sorsha!”
The current carried her farther from the stallion. She bobbed up and down, dragged lower by the swift waters and the weight of her saturated cloak. Large mats of floating vegetation, tree branches, and other debris jostled her. Clawing at her cloak’s clasp, she managed to unhook the chain. The cloak tangled with her legs, causing a moment’s dread, and then the river tore it away. The water carried her toward a tree with overhanging branches. She made a grab, her fingers locked onto a fistful of leaves, but the twigs broke and she continued past.
The water closed over her head and she renewed her fight. Surfacing she coughed up water. The river roared all around her. She didn’t know which way to swim, and concentrated on keeping her head above the water. The current slammed her against a boulder, knocking the breath from her lungs. She was going to die. Never had she dreamed this was how it would happen. Better the water than Trensler, a small part of her mind noted with defiance.
A pressure crushed her shoulder and she was suddenly breaking the surface again.
“I’ve got you.” Shadowdancer said. His teeth were biting into her shoulder, keeping her above the water, barely. “Can you climb on my back?”
“Not sure.” She reached around until she could grab his neck and mane. Shadowdancer might have her, but who had him? He wasn’t having much more luck than her. The water pushed him along. His powerful legs continued churning the water, and slowly, oh so slowly, the opposite bank grew nearer.
“Hold on!”
Shadowdancer’s warning came too late. A large pale shape loomed up behind them. Another heartbeat and the dark bulk of an uprooted tree rolled over top of them. The force of the blow tore her away from Shadowdancer once more. She had a moment to see the stallion go under, the tree rolling him, his hooves flailing in the air then he was upright again.
“Sorsha!”
She couldn’t even voice her fear. The river plunged her back down to its rocky bottom. Then it curved, the terrain changing and she was pushed back to the surface by the ever changing currents. Her head broke the frothy surface and she coughed. Seeing a large pale shape close, she lunged, fighting the current with a last desperate strength. She managed to hook her arm around a large tree branch as it floated alongside. Half drowned but unwilling to admit defeat, she clung to the driftwood and let it carry her on down the river.
“Sorsha!”
Tossing a sodden mass of hair out of her face, she spotted a darker blur running along the bank to her right. Shadowdancer was galloping apace with the river, his mane and tail streaming behind him. His headlong flight was actually outpacing the river and he was pulling ahead.
Perhaps he could get help before the river dragged her back to the bottom or carried her out to the ocean less than a league distant. Even if he couldn’t rescue her, she was glad he’d survived the river’s embrace. At least he could warn the others about Trensler. Ashayna and Lamarra would be safe.
She glanced to the right bank again, but could no longer see Shadowdancer. His frantic pace must have carried him beyond her sight. The river turned sharply ahead as it snaked its way to the sea. Fearing she’d get scraped off her driftwood raft in the turn, she doggedly pulled herself more firmly atop it.
From her new perch, she had a better view than she’d had while bobbing up and down at water level, but the new vantage point wasn’t any more reassuring. Closer to River’s Divide, the river was narrower, faster, and flowed over a series of small waterfalls. Even here the river had cut deep, exposing the bones of the earth. The banks were nothing more than smooth wet rocky bluffs, impossible to climb even if she’d had the strength.
A flash of movement ahead caught her attention. A wind gnarled pine clung to the rocky terrain and one of its twisted branches reached midway across the river. The tree shook and quivered in a way completely unlike its neighbors. It wasn’t until she was almost under the tree that she saw the pale shape of a man straddling the branch. He leaned out far and half dangled toward the water, one arm stretching in her direction.
For one moment of absolute disbelief, she stared at her unexpected rescuer. The shock almost cost her the chance to escape the river alive, but the desperation in the stranger’s dark eyes prompted her to lunge for his outstretched arm as her driftwood raft swept underneath his perch.
His skin was hot compared to the chill of the river and she held tight to his hand. With a grunt and a great show of strength, he dragged her from the water’s swift current and up onto the branch with him.
Only after she was hugging the branch in a death grip did she look up and recognize her rescuer.
“You.” The naked sailor who had invaded her bedroom two nights ago stared back at her. “You. How…” And then emotions of fear and relief rose up within her and the giddy tears of a survivor slid down her face, hot against her cold skin. “I should be dead. I’m not. Thank you.”
Her savior didn’t speak. He merely smiled as he continued to pant. Then he lay flat along the branch and rested his forehead against the bark. He looked as exhausted as her, like he’d run up hill for a few leagues in a gale force storm. Now he looked too exhausted to be much of a threat. Perhaps that was why she didn’t fear him. Either that or she was too tired to summon up survival instincts.
<
br /> Sleeping looked like a good idea. Her body ached with cold and fatigue. However, their present location wasn’t particularly comfortable or safe. “Come on, we should get to solid ground.” Hesitantly she touched his bare shoulder and realized he was just as naked as he’d been the first time she’d seem him. Doubts crept in even through the thick fog of exhaustion. There was something very strange going on. Her subconscious pricked at her. She was missing something. Well fine, she’d question him later.
“Let’s go before the tree gets sick of holding us up and dumps us back into the river. I doubt we’d be so lucky as to have someone farther down river rescue us.”
He responded with a deep huffing sound, half chuckle half snort. It was strangely familiar. The memory proved elusive, dancing out of range every time she’d almost grasped it. Later…later she’d piece together this mystery, once they were warm and safe.
Sorsha started to make her way toward the trunk of the tree. The going was slow, numerous branches got in her way. They plucked at her garments and snagged her still dripping hair as she navigated the old tree.
Naked, the stranger couldn’t have had a good time making his way onto the overhanging limb. Night’s darkness made it hard to see if he was hurt, but there was enough light from the moons to make out darker patches on his pale hind.
“Can you move?” She gentled her tone. He had saved her life and she was beginning to think he might be mind-touched. Once, as a child, she’d seen a gentle giant who had been mind damaged at birth. If this stranger was similarly inflicted, it would explain why he couldn’t talk. It didn’t excuse him sneaking into her bedroom in the middle of the night, but she would try to refrain from going after him with a knife or her bow. Maybe… If he behaved himself.
She held out her hand in an offer of friendship. When he finally raised his head, he tossed his dark hair over his shoulder. There was something familiar in that toss, the way he arched his head to the side, the elegant curve of muscle in a well-toned body. Superior. Arrogant. Prideful. Virile.
Sharp indulgence glimmered in his dark eyes. No, this one wasn’t mind touched. He was something else altogether.
It was impossible.
It couldn’t be.
And yet he was here and Shadowdancer wasn’t. He had saved her. Shadowdancer had been trying to save her. The stallion had vanished and this male was suddenly in her path. A human wouldn’t have even known she was in the river, wouldn’t have seen her until mere moments before the swift current floated her by. There wouldn’t have been time for him to get into position. All the little details pointed to the same impossible outcome.
“Shadowdancer?”
He sighed out his exhaustion again, but nodded his head.
“By the Light, how?”
He sat up and touched his lips then shook his head.
“You can’t speak.”
Another headshake.
“Are you hurt?”
Accompanied by a third shake of his head, he gave her a weak smile, and then sighing deeply, he started to crawl toward her.
“Well, you don’t need to talk to climb. Let’s get off this tree.” She’d been shivering with cold and reaction since he’d first pulled her out of the water, now she couldn’t feel her fingers or toes. The night wasn’t getting any warmer. If they wanted to live, they needed to find shelter and start a fire. She told him her plan as she navigated the tree. “This part of the river is familiar, and I think I know where we are. There’s a hidden stash of supplies in a cave nearby. We can start a fire and get warm at the very least.”
Her fingers touched the rock embankment, and she sighed in relief. With solid ground under her feet, she felt like she might actually live through this night. Shadowdancer stepped up behind her, close enough she could feel the heat from his body. He tapped her left shoulder and pointed up at what must have been the path he’d taken to get down to the tree.
The path wasn’t exactly an elegant stairway, but it was climbable. She struggled up the incline and knelt at the top of the escarpment to wait for Shadowdancer to make the climb. He took the hand she offered, and he heaved himself up and over the ledge to rest next to her for a moment. His shoulders shook as he shivered.
If she had some dry clothes, or even her cloak, she would have given them to him, but she had nothing to offer except thoroughly wet leathers. She eyed his broad-shouldered frame with the realization he wouldn’t fit into anything of hers anyways.
“Come here.” She took his arm and placed it over her shoulders and helped him to his feet. Her free arm naturally found its way around his waist. If it had been anyone other than Shadowdancer, it would have been awkward, but he was her friend. “The cave isn’t far. I have an old chest there with a few emergency supplies and nice warm blankets.”
His eyebrow arched up in silent question.
“You didn’t think Lamarra and I were just going to sit back and meekly accept never seeing Ashayna again, did you? Had she and Crown Prince Sorntar not come for an unexpected visit, we would have gone ahead with our plan to go looking for Ash ourselves. No one steals a member of the Stonemantle family and gets away with it.”
Shadowdancer snorted with humor.
“Yes, looking back, our plan wasn’t very…detailed.”
Sorsha continued to ramble, talking of meaningless things to occupy her mind and distract Shadowdancer from his exhaustion as they climbed the sloping escarpment. As she promised, her secret lair wasn’t far, but it still took them half a candlemark to make the journey.
By the time the cave entrance came into view, her body was numb with cold. She could only imagine how much worse off the Santhyrian must be. She paused briefly before the cave’s dark maw, wondering if something else big and predatory had decided to make her lair its home. She hoped not, and was honestly too tired to care.
The cave proved both empty and blessedly dry. She made straight for the back of the small cave where a chest sat half hidden behind a ridge of rock. After tossing the lid back, she rooted around inside until she found two blankets. She handed the blankets to Shadowdancer and he immediately wrapped himself in one.
After quickly loosening the ties with shaking fingers, Sorsha pulled her wet leather outer vest over her head. The sodden material landed with a damp thump. She peeled the clammy leather of her breeches down her legs and kicked the mess into a corner. The damp cotton of her underclothes would dry fast enough, but her stout shirt stuck to her like a cold wet lump. The shirt joined her leathers on the floor. She’d arrange them closer to the fire pit to dry once they got a camp fire burning. Naked from the waist up, she hugged herself to preserve what heat she still had. Which, by the chattering of her teeth, wasn’t much.
A soft blanket landed on her shoulders and Shadowdancer folded the heavy fabric around in front, under her chin. He didn’t let go, instead standing with his chest pressed against her blanket-covered back, his arms encircling her, his chin resting on her head.
“Thank you,” she stammered. “I don’t think…ever been so cold…my entire life.” It was tempting to simply stand there; the effort to move almost too much, but they needed a fire. Her teeth continued to chatter, making speech difficult. “Fire…we must build a fire while we still have strength.” With a shaking hand, she pointed to a stack of relatively dry wood tucked away in one corner. “Bring some of the smaller pieces closer. I’ll get the flint and kindling from the chest.”
Chapter Five
The crackle of the fire lulled her almost as much as the warmth of the flames and the solid heat of the big male at her back. She moved just enough to lean forward and then leisurely stirred the fire before she rested her head back against Shadowdancer’s chest.
Even after the fire had been burning fiercely, its great glowing embers flaring up toward the cave ceiling, Shadowdancer had continued to shiver uncontrollably, so she had gathered together ingredients from the chest to make a tea. There wasn’t much in way of food, just a couple of withered apples, which they
ate with appreciation. If not very nourishing, at least the tea helped to warm them. In the end, she’d given him her blanket to wrap around his waist, then she’d settled in his lap and he’d wrapped his blanket around them both. The combined heat of their bodies and the fire finally managed to warm the Santhyrian. Sitting mostly naked on Shadowdancer’s lap wasn’t how she’d thought she’d end the night. Modesty was long since a moot point. Or so she told herself to shake off the nagging blush, which tried to crawl up her cheeks every so often.
“I’m not sure if I ever thanked you properly for saving me, first from Trensler, and then later the river,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared into the fire. The flickering flames held her mesmerized.
Shadowdancer tightened his arms around her waist. He still couldn’t talk, but the way his fingers skimmed along her hip bone, stroking the skin in a lazy caress, required no accompanying words to communicate his mood.
He’d been an absolute gentleman, his hands never straying from her waist, until now.
She slapped her hand over his to stop its idle play. “Nice try. That’s not what I meant by ‘thanking you properly’ just to be clear.”
Another of his great rumbling chuckles escaped him, telling her he wasn’t upset to be put in his place. It probably helped his male pride to have her relax against him while her hand played along his arm, her fingertips catching in the dusting of crisp black hairs.
“I’m sorry about the arrows. I thought you were a drunken sailor.” She continued to touch his arm, marveling her friend was now human. “It never occurred to me you might be able to change your shape. Why didn’t you say anything, warn me in some way? I would have understood the need for secrecy.”
He shrugged. She could feel the shift of muscles, his dissatisfaction transmitted by a line of tension running down his arms.
“I’m sorry. It’s not fair to question you until you can talk. It must be frustrating.”
He released a sigh and began to relax again. Moments later, his hands moved slightly higher, midway between her waist and the lower swell of her breasts. She almost laughed at his less than subtle signals.
Herd Mistress (In Deception's Shadow Book 2) Page 4