A Leopard in the Mist

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A Leopard in the Mist Page 22

by S E Turner


  'What have you done?' Gya repeated herself with both hands firmly on his desk.

  Cornelius sat forward. 'I ask you, again. What do you mean? What have I done?'

  'There is a young man bedridden up in the tower. Why is he there?' Gya was furious.

  'Oh, him,' Cornelius stood up. 'He is helping me with my enquiries.'

  Turning his back on Gya, he walked towards the window with a thoroughly malevolent air about him.

  'What enquiries, pray, may I ask?' Gya demanded from behind him. But her mind was now on a pendant that lay on his desk. She had never seen this before and barely noticed his answer as she opened it.

  'I needed to know who attacked the palace. I needed to make sure that they wouldn't do it again.' The Emperor was looking out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back.

  'What are you talking about?' Gya was still looking at the locket and noticed an inscription on the back. 'Namir. '

  'You bastard,' she thought. 'You absolute bastard.'

  Cornelius was still droning on. 'We talked about it back in May, don't you remember? We said that we would find out who attacked the castle and that I would put an end to it, by death if need be.'

  Cornelius could still not face her. So, she put the pendant in her pocket and tore into him.

  'But we spoke to Macus and he told us that it was the clan boys and a young girl. He told us that, and I said not to do anything until I was better, because I wasn't strong enough to discuss the matter in greater detail with you.'

  Cornelius turned round now to face her and spat out an answer for his errant behaviour. 'I don't need you to make my decisions for me. I don't need to run everything past you. And I certainly don't need a woman's approval. I am the Emperor here, not you, and it is my duty to take what steps I need to take to be sure.'

  'To be sure of what, precisely?' Gya moved closer, her expression filled with rage.

  Cornelius backed away. 'I needed to be sure that they wouldn't descend on the palace again. That I would be safe. I needed to be sure that Macus had told me the truth.'

  Gya erupted and stood right next to him. 'Of course, Macus had told you the truth. Why would he lie about something like that? But now I'm going to tell you something. young man.' She pulled up the sleeve of her shirt and showed him the tattoo of the Smilodon on her arm. 'You see that?'

  Cornelius nodded his head as an answer.

  'That is my animal tattoo. It is a Smilodon. It protects me, it watches out for me. That man you have imprisoned in that small tower, the one who is probably dying up there because of you—he is not a warrior, he is not your enemy, he does not kill for pleasure. Yes, he is strong, cunning, and clever, but he does not take what is not naturally his. He is the same as me: he has my blood, my lineage, my ancestry. That is Namir. He wears the totem of a predator, just like I do. It is his animal tattoo. Because people like us have to protect ourselves from people like you.'

  'You are wrong, Gya... because he does have an incredible force. He has horses and he has weapons.' Cornelius seethed in his attack and magnified his response. 'One hundred men on horseback bearing weapons of steel came asking about him.'

  'What?' Gya was taken aback.

  'After three weeks, an army of men came looking for him. A man calling himself his brother enquired about his whereabouts.'

  'So, what did you tell him?'

  'I told him that he wasn't here, that I had let him go.'

  'So, you lied to him?'

  'They told me that he was very ill and needed special medicine. I thought they would attack me there and then. There were so many of them, and I had no back up.'

  'So rather than hand him over so they could take him back to safety, you lied to them and kept him up there! What were you thinking?'

  'The prisoner had lied to me. He said he didn't have an army. He told me nothing about a brother with an entire regiment. He had to be punished.'

  Gya was beside herself now. 'But they would have left you alone if you hadn't taken Namir in the first place. Just like the Emperor and the General wouldn't have been poisoned and attacked if they hadn't interfered with other people's lives. Who do you people think you are that you can just march onto another person's territory and do what you like just for your own self-importance and self-gratification?' She tried to compose herself as Cornelius turned away. 'I am clan Cornelius, I am a clan girl born to the Smilodon people. Remember my story about how I was a coward and watched my people being burned and ripped apart in front of my eyes?'

  Cornelius looked towards the horizon outside.

  'I can tell you know that the men who massacred my family came from here.'

  Cornelius turned.

  'Yes, Cornelius. General Domitrius Corbulo massacred my people on the orders of your father, the Emperor Gnaeus of Ataxata.' She hissed the words out, her mouth square with venom.

  'Why have you never told me that before?' Cornelius faced her, hands clenched behind his back.

  'Because I wanted to spare you the awful truth—that you are descended from a monster who had so much desire for power that he would stop at nothing to get it. But now we know what really happened, don't we? We now know how he took those boys and made them fight to the death in horrifying conditions, and how he plundered and pillaged every clan and every castle for miles around in search of the Seal of Kings. That's why he attacked my clan, to find the Seal. And I have to tell you now how I followed the blood of my people, and how it brought me to Ataxata, and how it took me to the palace. I swore on that very day that I would kill the General and your father.'

  'So why didn't you?' Cornelius' voice was thick and insulting .

  'Because I loved you too much. I couldn't put you through any more suffering. You had lost your mother and your sister. I just couldn't do it. Even though I hated them much more than I loved you, and wanted them both dead, something stopped me.'

  'You should have done it. I hated them as well.' Cornelius turned away again and looked out of the window.

  Gya hovered by the Emperor's shoulder and continued airing her truths. 'But what happened was that man up there killed them for me. Namir and his people, with the girl they call Skyrah. They did it. I owe that man everything, and you have nearly killed him.' She started to pace about the room: thinking, contemplating, planning her next move. She was crimson with rage, her hands clasped behind her back. Cornelius continued with his line of defence. 'He lied to me about his army. You can never trust these kind of people. If I let him go, he will get his army to defeat me.'

  'But if he dies, then his brother will come back with an army, anyway.'

  'Well, then, I will imprison him also.'

  'You sicken me to the very core, Cornelius. Just like you were with the turtle on the paradise island. You couldn't leave it alone, could you? Couldn't just listen to the people who knew best and wanted the turtle left alone on its own ground where it had come to spawn in peace year after year. No, not you. Just like your father before you, you can't see the severity of your actions and the ultimate disasters that will inevitably follow, even when it's staring you right in the face.' Gya turned on her heels. She was much too angry now and couldn't bear to be in the same room as this possessed soul.

  But Cornelius' temperament suddenly changed like the tempestuous sea wind and he leapt out in front of her. 'How dare you come into my room and speak to me like this, accusing me of all sorts and telling me what to do. Who do you think you are?'

  Gya was forced to stop in her tracks and faced him again. 'Your father said something similar to me when I was trying to save you.'

  Cornelius was now a finger's-breadth away from her face. 'Well I must be more like him than I thought.'

  Gya reached in even further. 'Right now, that is my greatest fear.'

  Cornelius snapped back. 'Here you go again, Gya, and I am tiring of you and your ramblings. You forget your place in this palace. I should have you locked up in the deepest dungeon and throw away the key for speaking to me the
way you do.'

  Gya stepped forward and lowered her tone. 'He said that to me as well. Now please step aside, I am not going to let that man die.'

  She ran to her room, scattering everything from her table except the things that mattered: bottles, tablets, potions, liniment, and a flagon of water. She hurriedly put them in a leather pouch and then spun on her heels to get back to the tower. Down the marble steps she flew, along the vast hallways and adjacent corridors, and past the magnificent state rooms. The guards were still on their tea break as she swept through the huge doors to the gardens. Scurrying along the path to the outside tower, she moved quickly. There was no time to lose. The stairs were tiring her now, she pushed herself to her limits to reach Namir. Throwing the door wide, she called him.

  But it was empty. He had gone. She looked for him everywhere, even though it was an absurd thing to do. But she couldn't believe that he had moved. He was far too weak. But then her mind played even more absurd tricks: had the guards got to him first? Or worse, Cornelius?

  'That man will surely perish if I don't get to him,' her voice was fraught.

  She ran to the stables. The urgency in her voice was rife. The stable boy came out at once. 'Macus, have you seen anyone? The guards, Cornelius, or a young man? He is very thin and very pale, and he would be wearing my cloak.'

  'No Gya I haven't seen any of them. I am sorry. Who is the young man you speak of?'

  'Your saviour and mine, and I hope it is his totem guiding him and not those who would wish to harm him.'

  'It's Namir, isn't it?" Macus looked anxious. 'I recognised him when he first came here.'

  'Yes, it is him.'

  'I did nothing to help him, Gya.'

  'You didn't know, Macus. I didn't know till now.'

  'But I did know. I knew exactly what they were doing to him, but I was just so scared for my family.' His voice trembled .

  Gya put her hand on his shoulder. 'We all have moments when we are afraid, Macus, but you learn from them and you step up the next time.'

  He looked at her with searching eyes. 'What can I do to help now?'

  'You can saddle me up a horse and be quick about it. I have to find him before he dies out there.'

  'Do you want me to come with you?'

  'No, it's all right. I should be able to track him easily enough.'

  Macus quickly got the fastest horse ready and brought him out to the pacing Gya. 'Here, you will need my coat as well. The weather is going to change, I can feel it.'

  Gya looked up into the swollen grey sky. 'Yes, you are right. Thank you, Macus. Are you sure you are not clan?'

  He smiled and helped her into the warm apparel. 'No, just a farmer's son, so we have been brought up with looking out for change.'

  'Farmer's son, clan girl, we are the same Macus. We can both sense change.'

  She had one foot in the stirrup when a loud booming voice came up behind her.

  'You are not going anywhere Gya, or is Gye, or Marquis de Beauchamp? Whatever your name is, you are an imposter and I did not give you permission to leave.'

  Gya looked at Macus with a withering look. She took her foot out of the stirrup and faced her accuser. ' You are going to have to fight me to stop me, Cornelius. You do know that don't you?'

  From behind his back, Cornelius produced two swords. 'I thought you might say that.' He threw one to Gya. 'Take the horse inside, Macus. I will be needing that in a few minutes.'

  The words came pale and thin from the Emperor's mouth. Macus did as he was told, and taking back his coat, gave one last look at Gya.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Dragging himself along, Namir picked out the vast plains that were heavy with the bulbous clouds of frozen snow. He was heading towards the forest now. He was disorientated as he veered east.

  After what seemed like hours, he could barely see the grey outline of the mountains on the horizon. His boots were sodden and his feet were freezing as he made his way over the barren fields. Straining, Namir took another step. It was fragile and heavy at the same time. He was very weak now. 'I can't go on,' he cried. 'I just can't, I've got nothing left.'

  His body wasn't his anymore. The weather was turning now, and his body just wasn't strong enough. 'I have to find a flowering yarrow. That's what I need. There should be some still here in the undergrowth.'

  But his disorientated mind led him to the wrong plants, and his search was futile. He rested a while beside a trunk and woke up feeling even more cold. How long had he been there he wondered. He had no concept of time anymore. The first flurries of snow had started, and already he had a thin layer over him which he wore like another coat. He brushed it off and stood up heavily, but he knew that within the hour he would be covered again. His steps were now dragging. Should he find shelter, or should he keep going? He didn't know which to do. He thought that if he stopped moving, he would surely die, but he was getting very weak now.

  'Perhaps I am going to die anyway,' he thought to himself. He pulled his cloak tighter round him.

  He had found a lambswool tunic, boots, and a pair of breeches in the stables. He didn't have time to get a horse. He had heard someone coming. Fearful it was the Emperor, he had disappeared quickly. But he was thankful for the time to get these clothes, even though the weight slowed him down.

  He felt rocks beneath the crisp white blanket and looked out for a cave, but the powdered crystals were falling so heavily now, he couldn't see very far at all. Overhanging trees held out their branches for him to grip onto and each time they released a fresh falling on top of him. He would stop soon, he thought to himself. Only a few more steps and he could build a fire. He would soon be warm. His body ached now. His old wound felt as if it had opened again and a thousand daggers were twisting inside him.

  He gripped his stomach and groaned. 'Help me, please.'

  He heard a noise and turned on his heel. His ankle twisted and he dropped to the ground as the pain shot up his leg. 'Lyall, I need you. Where are you in my darkest hour.'

  Whatever he heard had moved away. Maybe it was a snow leopard, he thought, but that would leave him alone, wouldn't it? The snow leopard was his totem. No, that wouldn't harm him.

  He stood up and limped along, grabbing branches. Then he heard it again, the same noise. There was someone there.

  'Lyall, is that you?' his loud whisper was fuelled with panic. 'Lyall, I'm here. I'm very cold.'

  There was definitely something out there.

  'I can't walk anymore. Help me. Please.'

  He sank down on a snowbank, sprawled out with his face upwards, and looked towards a swollen grey sky. He didn't know whether it was night or day—they had morphed into one now. The drift had made him blind, and the grey tinged boundary made everything dark. He didn't know how long he had been walking or what had happened to him. How on earth had he ended up here? Was it a bad dream?

  'No,' he said out loud. 'Dreams are never this real.' He remembered a woman though, a beautiful young woman. He tried to reach out for her, but she kept melting away. The woman made him feel happy and warm. He remembered her smell. He tried to picture her face, but it evaporated into the cold air.

  Then he saw it. A huge head standing over him. Condensation billowed from huge nostrils and tendrils of frozen ice hung from its mouth. It snorted once and sent particles of frozen spray raining down on him. Namir smiled—that's all he could do now. 'Have you come here to take me? Is this what happens when you die?'

  The beast snorted again and pawed at the ground with its hoof. A jewel-encrusted foot was inches from his head. He lifted himself up. Something else moved. Something came round towards him. It made a sound, but he couldn't understand what it said.

  'Who are you? What do you want?' His voice was fragile and thin. He could barely speak, but the survivor in him wasn't about to give up just yet. He sat up on one elbow to get a better look. Snow was still falling and blocked his vision. He wiped at his lashes, but they had frozen together.

  The appariti
on was next to him now. He could feel its breath on his face. He reached out with a weak, pale hand. 'Are you my saviour or my destroyer?'

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Gya had grabbed the sword. She was not at her best, she knew that. After two months in confinement, her muscles had stiffened, and her fighting edge had gone. But it was nothing compared to the change in Cornelius. He was so consumed with hatred and loathing, he would not be able to focus, and that was the secret of the sword, for accuracy is more vital than power.

  He came at her like a man possessed, going straight for her heart, but she was light on her feet and leapt away. That gave her respite enough to calm herself and engage with her enemy. He came at her again, jousting, stabbing, and dancing around her, and howled with such words she really believed him to be a devil now. He aimed for her throat and her heart, the two places that would inflict certain death. She was blocking all the time while he used up most of his energy. She spun round on her heel and slashed him across the brow. His response caught her below the breast. They retreated, never taking their eyes of each other, and fought in silence—something she had always taught him to do.

  'Accuracy is more vital than power', she said to herself again.

  Suddenly he leapt behind her and yanked her head back, but she slammed her hard boot down onto his soft slipper and he cried out in pain. Calling her every name under the sun, he retreated again and composed his stance.

  Inside the stables, the horses were frightened. She could hear them shrieking and kicking the doors, trying to get out amid the sound of Macus trying to comfort them. She had taken her focus off her adversary and he caught her under the chin, she wiped at the cut and saw the blood on her sleeve. Undeterred, she relaxed and studied his form, particularly the distance between him and the point of her sword. She waited patiently as he danced around her, and then launched in, catching his shoulder with a deep cut as he moved sideways.

  Her arm ached and a nick to her lip caused her mouth to fill with blood. She spat it out and refocused. His obscene words were being thrown thick and fast, even quicker than his blade. She recoiled at both. She wanted to shout back at him, but her throat was dry, so she just grunted with every swipe. She backed away from his fearsome advances, throwing herself to the left, then back again to the right. She ran up the stable wall and tumbled in the air till she was behind him. She took a section of his right ear off, and as he spun round completely enraged, she took the other ear off. His hand flew to the missing appendage, so she slashed him hard across the thigh. His leg went out from under him and he stumbled.

 

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