Read Online Lord of Slaughter by M. D. Lachlan - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: M. D. Lachlan
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bring me?’
‘Why, me,’ said the man. He bowed and walked forward to take Beatrice’s hand. ‘And, lady, there is no richer gift.’
Beatrice felt very odd indeed. Was this another fever? She had seen this fellow in her fevers before, she was sure, but this seemed so real.
She walked with him through the wood towards the little fire. Beside it he spread his feather cloak and lay down. Beatrice did not think it odd that it surrounded the fire in thick down for twenty paces about. It looked so warm and wonderful. She dearly wanted to test the comfort of the feathers. She lay down too, next to the man, all fear of him gone. The feathers were truly very comfortable, more comfortable than any bed she had ever lain on. Beatrice gazed into the man’s eyes and thought they were the green eyes of a wolf. She wanted to confide in him.
‘I have dreams.’
‘So do I,’ he said, ‘and sometimes it’s easy to fall in love with a dream. I did once.’
‘Am I a dream?’ She didn’t know quite what she said.
‘The very idea! You, lady, are reality. You are to where the dreams of gods fall with a thump.’
‘I go to a place by a river and there is a wall full of candles. I cannot touch them.’
‘Are you the only one there?’
‘There are others.’
‘What others?’
‘A boy who seems lost and a thing in the darkness. I cannot see it but I know it is there.’
‘It is a wolf and it hunts you.’
‘Why is the wolf hunting me?’
‘To love you and to kill you.’
‘Why would he kill someone he loved?’
‘Well I don’t think he means to. It’s just that he always associates with such disreputable types.’
Beatrice breathed in the aroma of the man’s skin – like incense and smoke, like the freshness of rain, like iron in the hand.
‘Why does he follow me?’
‘For what you have inside you. The thing that howls and calls. The wolf trap rune. You are a mighty bait, lady, irresistible to a creature of such palate.’ Something seemed to stir within her and she saw a shape, a long thin line with a sharp slash through it. She heard a howl in her mind and a shiver went through her flesh. The shape was calling to the wolf, however odd that seemed.
‘What can I do to escape him?’
‘I have told you enough. For that, lady, I require something more from you.’
‘What is it?’
‘You have been too long a maiden.’
The threat was clear but Beatrice did not feel scared. The man’s statement felt curiously reasonable.
‘Can you truly tell me how I can escape him?’
‘I can.’
‘How do I know you are telling the truth?’
‘I am a god.’
‘There is but one god.’
‘So forcefully stated,’ he said, ‘and so obviously untrue.’
The air danced with points of light, like the silver shimmers that appear in the eyes on rising too quickly, but unfading. Snowflakes fell, as big as saucers, and yet she was warm.
‘Tell me and I will give you what you want.’
‘Give me what I want and I will tell you,’ he said.
‘Tell me a little, so I may know if you are trying to deceive me.’
‘Give me a little, so I may know if you are trying to deceive me.’
He undid the brooch that held the neck of her tunic together and dropped it onto the feathers. Then slid his hand inside the robe’s neck onto her breast. Her body tingled, her skin tightened, a delicious chill like going out into the frost after too long in a stuffy room.
‘If he insists on following you,’ he said, ‘take him to the place he would least like to go.’
He kissed her and she inhaled his scent. It seemed so complex – like a bright stream, like wet grass and like earth, like the sea on a sunny day, but under it all the odour of burning. The moon was a sharp crescent, the morning star sparkling like a jewel next to it.
‘Where is that place?’
‘You will know it. Now I will know you.’
He lifted up her skirts and did what he had asked to do and it seemed to Beatrice that, in her pleasure and her
‘Why, me,’ said the man. He bowed and walked forward to take Beatrice’s hand. ‘And, lady, there is no richer gift.’
Beatrice felt very odd indeed. Was this another fever? She had seen this fellow in her fevers before, she was sure, but this seemed so real.
She walked with him through the wood towards the little fire. Beside it he spread his feather cloak and lay down. Beatrice did not think it odd that it surrounded the fire in thick down for twenty paces about. It looked so warm and wonderful. She dearly wanted to test the comfort of the feathers. She lay down too, next to the man, all fear of him gone. The feathers were truly very comfortable, more comfortable than any bed she had ever lain on. Beatrice gazed into the man’s eyes and thought they were the green eyes of a wolf. She wanted to confide in him.
‘I have dreams.’
‘So do I,’ he said, ‘and sometimes it’s easy to fall in love with a dream. I did once.’
‘Am I a dream?’ She didn’t know quite what she said.
‘The very idea! You, lady, are reality. You are to where the dreams of gods fall with a thump.’
‘I go to a place by a river and there is a wall full of candles. I cannot touch them.’
‘Are you the only one there?’
‘There are others.’
‘What others?’
‘A boy who seems lost and a thing in the darkness. I cannot see it but I know it is there.’
‘It is a wolf and it hunts you.’
‘Why is the wolf hunting me?’
‘To love you and to kill you.’
‘Why would he kill someone he loved?’
‘Well I don’t think he means to. It’s just that he always associates with such disreputable types.’
Beatrice breathed in the aroma of the man’s skin – like incense and smoke, like the freshness of rain, like iron in the hand.
‘Why does he follow me?’
‘For what you have inside you. The thing that howls and calls. The wolf trap rune. You are a mighty bait, lady, irresistible to a creature of such palate.’ Something seemed to stir within her and she saw a shape, a long thin line with a sharp slash through it. She heard a howl in her mind and a shiver went through her flesh. The shape was calling to the wolf, however odd that seemed.
‘What can I do to escape him?’
‘I have told you enough. For that, lady, I require something more from you.’
‘What is it?’
‘You have been too long a maiden.’
The threat was clear but Beatrice did not feel scared. The man’s statement felt curiously reasonable.
‘Can you truly tell me how I can escape him?’
‘I can.’
‘How do I know you are telling the truth?’
‘I am a god.’
‘There is but one god.’
‘So forcefully stated,’ he said, ‘and so obviously untrue.’
The air danced with points of light, like the silver shimmers that appear in the eyes on rising too quickly, but unfading. Snowflakes fell, as big as saucers, and yet she was warm.
‘Tell me and I will give you what you want.’
‘Give me what I want and I will tell you,’ he said.
‘Tell me a little, so I may know if you are trying to deceive me.’
‘Give me a little, so I may know if you are trying to deceive me.’
He undid the brooch that held the neck of her tunic together and dropped it onto the feathers. Then slid his hand inside the robe’s neck onto her breast. Her body tingled, her skin tightened, a delicious chill like going out into the frost after too long in a stuffy room.
‘If he insists on following you,’ he said, ‘take him to the place he would least like to go.’
He kissed her and she inhaled his scent. It seemed so complex – like a bright stream, like wet grass and like earth, like the sea on a sunny day, but under it all the odour of burning. The moon was a sharp crescent, the morning star sparkling like a jewel next to it.
‘Where is that place?’
‘You will know it. Now I will know you.’
He lifted up her skirts and did what he had asked to do and it seemed to Beatrice that, in her pleasure and her
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