The Man From Forever. Dawn Flindt

Читать онлайн.
Название The Man From Forever
Автор произведения Dawn Flindt
Жанр Современная зарубежная литература
Серия
Издательство Современная зарубежная литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn



Скачать книгу

who hated and feared the Maklaks, who they had never shared meat with. His voice hard with anger and frustration, Keintepoos had agreed with the shaman Cho-ocks and the killer Ha-kar-Jim that if the army lost their leader, the others would flee in disarray. That was why Keintepoos had killed the army man, but instead of going back to where they’d come from, the army’s strength had grown until there was no escaping them.

      Why did today’s enemy grieve over the army man’s death? General Canby was one of those who’d helped bring destruction to the People.

      The woman was still looking for him, her attention split between the cross and whatever she was trying to find in the horizon. With her every movement, his awareness of her grew, until it was as if she stood beside him, her hand extended to him in invitation and challenge. He felt his body weakening, knew that if she placed her fingers on his flesh, he would forget everything except his need for her.

      Sucking in sage-sweet air, he gripped his lower thigh with all the strength in his fingers until hunger for her was replaced by pain. Still, he knew that once the pain was gone, she would again crawl inside him. For a moment of awful and total weakness, he wanted nothing else in life.

      Then, because he was a warrior in a world where it was a lonely thing to be a warrior, he pulled hatred from deep inside him and fed upon it.

      “Blaiwas! Eagle! Hear my cry. I seek your wisdom. Should the woman live?”

      Although he scanned the sky, he saw nothing. Again he sent out a plea, secure in the knowledge that the wind pushed his words behind him where she couldn’t hear. “Blaiwas. Eagle. You are my spirit and the truth lives within you. This woman beats upon my body with fists I do not understand. I must know. The owl call I heard last night. Is it the cry of a mortal bird or Owl himself sending his warning? Am I to die? Is she?”

      The sky remained clean and clear, hazed only slightly by the morning, but as he continued to study it, he saw a small, dark and familiar shape. Closer and closer the shape came until he had no doubt that his spirit, Eagle, had answered. Directly overhead now, Eagle rode the wind in large, graceful circles until it was so close that he easily made out the knife-like tips of its talons. It flew with its head lowered, not because it sought food but because it had locked its eyes on him.

      Eagle. Blaiwas.

      Aware that the woman had taken note of Eagle, he sent out a silent message of thanks that his spirit had answered his call, then repeated his question. As if absorbing the whispered words, Eagle aimed its magnificent body upward in a powerful thrust. The coal-black bird with its pristine white head and tail nearly disappeared before jackknifing and heading down again. This time it aimed itself at the woman, coming so close that she ducked. A cry that seemed to come from the depths of the earth burst from Eagle and held, echoing.

      “I see, heed your message. She is danger. I will not forget. Now go! Leave this sorrowful place. Return to Yainax, your mountain.”

      Eyes still intent on the eagle who she feared might attack again at any moment, Tory couldn’t be sure whether or not she’d heard a male voice. Given the state of her nerves, anything was possible. An eagle, the largest she’d ever seen—heading right toward her! Coming so close, she swore she’d felt its body heat! Impossible, just like the voice. Then, taking her eyes off the disappearing eagle, she caught a movement near a boulder some fifty yards away. Except it was more than a movement, it was reality.

      The warrior had returned. Standing in stark relief against the muted background, he seemed otherworldly and yet… Unconsciously using her researcher’s senses, she took in his hard and healthy body, his sure stride, the proud lift to his head. He seemed unaware of anything except her, and as he came closer, her awareness of the rest of her world faded into nothing.

      He might be a hoax—had to be a hoax. Still, her heart and nerve endings hinted at something very, very real. As yesterday, only a single strip of material stood between him and nudity. His slender weapon rode low and secure along his right hip, and his hand hovered scant inches from it, warning her that a sudden movement from her might propel it into his competent fingers. His long ebony hair absorbed the sun and played with the wind and made her ache to bury her fingers in it.

      She tried to judge the speed of his walk to gauge how much longer she had before he was close enough to touch her, but she couldn’t tear her thoughts from his body’s beautiful flow. He seemed to be not arms and legs and shoulders and hips, but a single and perfect meshing of everything a man needed to be. His muscles came from the earth, from wrestling life itself from that earth. Watching him walking sure and flat-footed over hostile ground, she believed him totally in touch with his world. In winter he must have to dress to protect himself against the elements, but this wasn’t a man for expensive wools and high-tech synthetics. When the elements drove him to shelter, he would clad himself in what the land around him provided. Remain part and parcel of the land, of eternity.

      Through flared nostrils, she breathed of the virgin air and felt herself a virgin—waiting for the man who would take her.

      “What do you want?” she asked when only a few feet separated them. Why me? Her entire being hummed with awareness.

      He stared, not blinking, eyes like night and the distant past and maybe the future, as well.

      “What do you want?” she repeated in a voice that shook and carried no strength. He had it all; maybe he had everything she would ever need.

      “You do not belong here. Go.”

      His words were thickly accented, hard and rusty as if he hadn’t spoken in years. She tried to concentrate on that, but what he’d said demanded her complete attention. “Don’t belong?”

      “I am la’qi. I say you must leave.”

      “La’qi?” She stumbled over the foreign word.

      “Chief. Chief of this place. I say you do not belong here.”

      A hoax. Someone’s idea of a huge joke. Except no laughter waited in his eyes, and she didn’t see how even the finest actor could master his speech pattern, or look as if he’d been forged from the wilderness. It was as if his English came from a half-forgotten source, as if it had been years since he’d had anyone to talk to. “I don’t understand.”

      Instead of saying anything, he placed his hand on her shoulder, the grip not quite painful but nothing she could escape. She swayed and then grew strong from his grasp. He, a stranger, had no right touching her. He would know that if he obeyed the laws she’d obeyed all her life, but his incredible eyes spoke of a world beyond her comprehension.

      “What do you want?” she asked, although the weight and warmth and warning of his touch made talking all but impossible.

      “For you to leave.”

      “You—you can’t mean that.” His fingers were heat and barely contained strength. It was as if he were pulling her into him with the contact, and if she didn’t soon put an end to it, there wouldn’t be anything left of her. “I—I have a perfect right.”

      “You are evil.”

      Evil? This wasn’t funny. She’d tell him that just as soon as he released her thoughts, her everything. “Why are you following me?”

      “You came to my land. Walked where you had no right.”

      “No right? Look—” She tried to slide out from under him, but he increased the pressure just enough to warn of pain should she resist. She still felt as if he’d wrapped invisible chains around her, but she was now beginning to put herself back together. No longer did she feel as if she might shatter. “Look, this is public property. I don’t know what your game is, what you’ve been paid to pull this stunt, but it isn’t working.”

      “I do not play games. I will know the truth. I must know. What is your name?”

      “My name?”

      “Yes. What do they call you?”

      On the verge of telling him, she reached deep down inside for the tenacity that had