Read Online Dark Dreams by Rowena Cory Daniells - Free Book Online Page B

puppy, and a growing crowd of spectators in tow, Imoshen approached the large hothouse. Several anxious gardeners ran up to her, their voices strident with outrage as they told her how the priest had marched into the hothouse raving about blasphemy.
    It made no sense. No sense at all.
    Imoshen thrust the door open and the heat hit her, followed by the rich smell of fecund earth. Tray after tray of sprouting seeds stretched before her. Inoffensive tomato seedlings lay bruised and trampled.
    Unaware of his audience, the Cadre swung the rake at another window. The sound of shattering glass threatened Imoshen’s composure. She tasted the forewarning of the T’En on her tongue, aroused by her anger.
    ‘Cease this destruction immediately!’ Her voice rang out as she strode through debris.
    But the priest was too intent to hear her. He positioned himself before another window and raised the rake. Imoshen came up behind him, tore the rake from his hand and tossed it aside. She caught him by the scruff of his neck, swinging him off his feet.
    Empowered by fury, it took little effort for her to hold the Cadre off the ground. The startled priest shrieked and clutched frantically at his collar, which had risen up under his chin.
    ‘What is the matter with you?’ Imoshen shook him like a dog shakes a rat and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Do you hate fresh carrots?’
    The absurdity of it made the servants laugh. She suspected they were as relieved as she was to find the threat was not armed Ghebites slaughtering innocents. The priest clawed at his throat, his face going red. Imoshen opened her mouth to speak, but General Tulkhan forestalled her.
    ‘What’s going on here?’ His deep voice cut through the nervous giggles, silencing everyone.
    Imoshen dropped the priest in disgust, indicating the destruction. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Your priest objects to fresh vegetables!’
    Tulkhan fought the urge to laugh. When frantic palace servants had summoned him, he’d expected the worst. He turned to the Cadre. ‘Explain yourself.’
    Glaring at Imoshen, the priest rearranged his elaborate collar ruff and dirt-stained robe of office. ‘It is an abomination!’
    ‘Since when is fresh food an abomination?’ Imoshen countered.
    Tulkhan gestured to the odd, glass-roofed building. ‘What is this place?’
    ‘The hothouse where the palace’s fresh vegetables are grown,’ Imoshen said. ‘You wouldn’t need this in Gheeaba. During our long cold winters the windows capture the heat of the sun.’
    ‘It is an abomination in the eyes of the great Akha Khan!’ the Cadre insisted and darted past Imoshen to pull a plant out by its roots, shaking it fiercely so that damp earth flew everywhere. ‘This is the abomination, this and all its brothers!’
    Imoshen wrinkled her nose. ‘You object to a cup of herbal tea?’
    Tulkhan felt his lips twitch but kept his voice neutral. ‘This is a tea plant?’
    ‘We dry the leaves, boil water and make an infusion which we drink,’ Imoshen explained. ‘It is one of many teas sold in the tea-houses throughout –’
    ‘Tell him what it’s used for,’ the priest insisted, his eyes gleaming triumphantly.
    ‘Women drink it to control their fertility,’ Imoshen replied.
    ‘Exactly!’ The priest stepped forward, waving the plant under General Tulkhan’s nose. ‘This is the root of the evil in Fair Isle. This plant is an abomination. No wonder the women of this island know no shame. No wonder their men are emasculated!’
    Spittle flew from the Cadre’s lips and Tulkhan sensed the locals draw back.
    ‘It is a woman’s lot to bear children. She is the property of her husband, and the sons she produces are his heirs. The more sons the better, to make a strong house-line!’ The Cadre glared at Imoshen. ‘To interfere with a woman’s natural bearing of children is an abomination, an affront to Akha Khan. Think of all the Ghebite sons who would never be born to take up arms if