Dark Dreams
Praise for Rowena Cory Daniells
“Rowena Cory Daniells has a splendidly devious way with plotting.”
SFX
“I loved that Daniells went with such a great scope for the first book... it was unexpected, and a blast to read.”
A Fantastical Librarian
on
Besieged
“
Besieged
is the fifth book by Daniells that I’ve read, and belongs with the best books I’ve read in twenty years of reading fantasy. Take the time to learn the know the world and its inhabitants, and you’ll be in for a treat.”
Fantastical Imaginations
on
Besieged
“The plot is handled expertly... The threads converge on an immense climax that lays the tracks for a fantastic conclusion.”
The British Fantasy Society
on
Exile
“If there was a word that described a complex, intense, nail-biting, leg-swinging, edge-of-your-seat, dramatic, action filled story filled with ‘oh-my-god’ moments, I’d use it.”
Dragons, Heroes and Wizards
on
Exile
“As usual, Rowena’s writing is crisp, the plot rich and complex. Great stuff.”
Falcata Times
on
Sanctuary
“One aspect that elevates this book above the previous two is that the decisions faced by the characters are much harder and the consequences direr than anything they’ve faced to this point. Having travelled with them thus far, the reader has a greater connection to them.”
The British Fantasy Society
on
Sanctuary
“Pacy and full of action and intrigue.”
Trudi Canavan, author of
The Black Magician
trilogy,
on
The Chronicles of King Rolen’s Kin
Also by Rowena Cory Daniells
The Outcast Chronicles
Besieged
Exile
Sanctuary
The Chronicles of King Rolen’s Kin
The King’s Bastard
The Uncrowned King
The Usurper
The King’s Man (
ebook
)
King Breaker
ROWENA CORY DANIELLS
DARK
DREAMS
BOOK TWO OF THE FALL OF FAIR ISLE
This edition published 2015 by Solaris
an imprint of Rebellion Publishing Ltd,
Riverside House, Osney Mead,
Oxford, OX2 0ES, UK
www.solarisbooks.com
Broken Vows
first published 1999 as
The Last T’En
by Bantam Australia.
Dark Dreams
first published 2001 by Bantam.
Desperate Alliances
first published 2002 by Bantam.
ISBN: 978-1-84997-899-6
The Fall of Fair Isle
copyright © 2015 Rowena Cory Daniells
Broken Vows
copyright © 1999 Rowena Cory Daniells
Dark Dreams
copyright © 2001 Rowena Cory Daniells
Desperate Alliances
copyright © 2002 Rowena Cory Daniells
Cover by Clint Langley
The right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of he copyright owners.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
To my editors,
thank you for your patience
and dedication
Chapter One
I
N THE PAST
the palace of a thousand chambers had overwhelmed Imoshen; now she strode its corridors the uncrowned Empress. But her position was as precarious as the man she would rule alongside.
General Tulkhan and his Ghebite army were the overlords of a conquered people who remained loyal to the Old Empire, but the invaders were in the minority. Every day the palace servants deferred to Imoshen, when in reality she was the General’s captive. Every day the Ghebites flaunted their barbarian splendour, carelessly insulting her people.
Imoshen smiled grimly. Though she had seen her island conquered and been forced to surrender her family’s stronghold to the Ghebites, General Tulkhan had claimed her for his own, which put her in a position of great tactical strength.
Much had been achieved since the Harvest Feast. Only last night Tulkhan had signed the document recognising church law, returning to Imoshen all she had lost and more. For, on their bonding day, she would stand before her people as co-ruler of Fair Isle, the first pure T’En woman to take a bond-partner in six hundred years.
The clash of weapons made Imoshen freeze, wary as a hunted woodland creature. She had become intimately acquainted with fear, and the knowledge that her life hung by a thread shadowed her every move. Heart hammering, she followed the razor-sharp sounds to a balcony where half a dozen servants were avidly watching a confrontation in the courtyard below. One glance told her the General and his men were at sword practice.
Relief flooded her, yet she was dismayed to see the Ghebite fascination for violence infecting her servants. ‘Get back to work, the lot of you!’
They made guilty apologies and hurried away.
In the confines of the courtyard the swords’ song resonated harshly. As Imoshen watched unseen from the balcony’s shadows, she could not help but admire the Ghebites’ skill, even as she abhorred their love of violence.
Once past boyhood, a Ghebite warrior practised with battle-ready weapons, scorning the use of blunt swords. It was not unknown for Ghebites to take a fatal wound in practice. The warriors were feared for their ferocity, and Tulkhan was the very embodiment of the Ghebite ideal. For at only nineteen he had assumed command of the army, leading it south, creeping inexorably across the mainland. In eleven years no kingdom had been able to withstand the General’s onslaught, and it had appeared he would conquer the known world.
But instead of attacking the last of the southern kingdoms, he had turned his eye on Fair Isle, making a surprise assault. Betrayed by her allies, unprepared for war on her own shores, Fair Isle had crumbled in one spring-to-summer campaign.
The memory of those desperate times made Imoshen shudder, and she returned her attention to the scene below. General Tulkhan was renowned for his tactical skill and physical bravery. Given that, why was he taking on three of his trusted swordsmen while his elite guard watched? What was he trying to prove?
In a flash of insight Imoshen understood – once her position as co-ruler of Fair Isle became known, his men would think she had emasculated him. They might even suspect he had been ensorcelled by her. Some of them still refused to meet her eyes, believing the rumours of treacherous T’En powers. No wonder Tulkhan wielded his sword with such intensity that his men could barely defend themselves.
Metal grated, setting Imoshen’s teeth on edge. She gasped as one man gave a guttural cry, dropping to his knee. At the last moment Tulkhan turned his sword, striking with the flat of the blade. The Ghebite sprawled on the slippery stone.
No one moved.
Imoshen took a step closer, drawn by the charged atmosphere. She could taste their intoxicating bloodlust in the air.
The sound of the men’s ragged breathing was magnified, trapped in the snow-bound inner courtyard. In the brilliant early morning light, two remaining swordsmen faced Tulkhan over the body of their barely conscious comrade, steam rising from their skin.
General Tulkhan’s naked back glistened with sweat as he stood poised to strike. He was magnificent and undeniably dangerous. Something tightened deep within Imoshen. With bittersweet self-knowledge, she recognised the sensation. She had known Tulkhan’s body only twice, but her need for him was already so strong it made her vulnerable.
Moistening her dry mouth, she watched mesmerised as the confrontation unfolded. Swordsman Jacolm stood over his fallen sword-brother, bristling, ready to die for the man who was bound to him by the Ghebite warrior code. No wonder their army was invincible when the warriors shared this unbreakable bond and welcomed death in battle. Fallen Ghebite soldiers were ensured a place riding at the side of their warrior god. Imoshen’s lips curled with contempt.
Then the grizzled veteran, Piers, deliberately lowered his weapon. Turning his shoulder to Tulkhan, he helped the injured man to his feet. Following his lead, Jacolm also sheathed his weapon.
The General gave a disgusted shrug, though whether he was annoyed with them or himself, Imoshen could not tell. With a word he dismissed the others.
From her vantage point she saw the elite guard and Tulkhan’s trusted commanders leave the courtyard. The General walked towards her. He scooped up a handful of the snow, which had been swept into deep drifts, rubbing it vigorously over his face.
Imoshen’s heart raced as she stepped into the patch of sunlight illuminating the balcony rail. ‘General?’
Startled, Tulkhan looked up, his expression guarded.
‘Only me.’
‘Only?’
Imoshen smiled. She liked Tulkhan best when they were alone, when he did not have to play the public role of Ghebite General, nor she the role of T’En Princess.
With a tug Imoshen pulled the brocade tabard over her head, casting it aside so that she stood dressed only in her loose-fitting trousers, thin undershirt and soft-soled boots. ‘Teach me to use the Ghebite sword.’
The General’s eyes narrowed.
The women of Tulkhan’s homeland never touched weapons. They hardly dared raise their eyes to a man, let alone a sword. Imoshen knew she was breaking Ghebite law; this was why she had waited until the others had left.
Before the Ghebites invaded last spring, she had taken for granted the ways of Fair Isle. Now she understood that her island was a beacon of enlightenment in a sea of barbarism. Everything she believed in was under threat, but she was determined the Ghebites would not erode the position of women in Fair Isle. If this meant confronting Tulkhan and constantly forcing him to question his assumptions, then so be it. There was an ancient T’En saying which translated as,
Truth is a precious but often bitter seasoning
.
Imoshen swung her legs over the balustrade and dropped two body-lengths into the heaped snow near Tulkhan. Aware of the General’s keen dark eyes, she straightened, wiping crusted snow from her buttocks and thighs.
‘What now, Imoshen?’
Holding Tulkhan’s gaze, she tried to gauge his mood. For a Ghebite the General was a reasonable man, but he was proud, too. ‘I began instruction with the T’En sword the year before you attacked. But the Ghebite style is different and I may need to defend myself, so teach me.’