The Shadows of Night (16 page)

The lions growled, annoyed, but he ignored their reaction.
 
He would not compromise the safety of his monarch, no matter what.

The guard swallowed.
 
“Very well, my lord.
 
But let us summon other guards to accompany you, in case of…”
 
His gaze slid to the snarling lions.
 
“Difficulties.”

“That will be acceptable,” Hart said.

So it was that they entered the keep, Hart and Katara walking together in human form, flanked on either side by a great cat and a stag.
 
Hart carried the bound Fang, still in her human form, in his arms.
 
Her head lolled against his shoulder, and her bare skin felt hot to the touch.
 
He suspected she was growing ill.

“Show the Claw leader and her consort to our best chamber,” he said, emphasizing the last words slightly, trying to convey both to them and his guards that this was not imprisonment, but courteous treatment accorded to honored guests.

He went toward the medical chamber with Katara, making certain the Fang was immobilized on a regen table, and then went in search of his monarch.
 
He had had a long, tiring two days, and he wished very much for a hot meal, a real bath, and court clothes before approaching his father, but his duty was to warn his monarch of the danger immediately.
 
Not to mention the fact that he very much doubted the lions would brook any sort of delay.

Still naked and bedraggled, he strode into the private audience chamber with Katara at his side, only to pause in surprised delight when he saw his brother there, standing on his own two feet and looking as disgustingly handsome as ever.

“Prong!” he exclaimed, striding forward and gripping his brother by both arms in the customary gesture of greeting used by their people.
 
“I am relieved to see you whole and well.”

Prong lifted an eyebrow.
 
“I seem to have weathered the past two days better than you, my brother.”

Indeed, it was true.
 
Prong was dressed in his usual impeccable white clothing, his hair brushed so thoroughly it gleamed like polished copper in the light.
 
Hart, on the other hand, knew he was filthy, scratched, and his hair was probably filled with leaves.
 

“It has been a difficult two days,” he admitted, then turned to his father, grateful that they were alone in the chamber.
 
“My monarch, I would speak with you.”

The monarch frowned.
 
“You certainly will.
 
You will explain why you permitted this Claw to escape.
 
And why you have brought more of her uncivilized, barbaric kind into my keep.
 
And you had best speak quickly, my son, lest I lose patience.
 
I wish not to exile my eldest son, yet it appears my clear duty in this instance.”

Hart swallowed uncomfortably, knowing that his father’s excessive formality in speech bespoke a genuine anger with his son.
 
To be dressed down in front of his brother stung like the lash of a branch, and he felt much as he had when he was a child and in trouble with his father for loosing snakes in the keep.
 
But he was in much greater trouble now, and the thought of exile unnerved him.
 
He took a deep breath to steady
himself
and spoke.

“There is a new danger to our people, my monarch.
 
The danger is faced by the Claw as well, which is why I brought the leader of this one’s Pride and her consort to speak with you.
 
We must work together if we are to protect our peoples.”

“I assure you, Lord Hart, I have less than no interest in what might happen to the Claw.
 
Were their entire Kindred to be destroyed, I would not shed a single tear.”

Hart was aware of Katara’s skin rippling with annoyance beside him.
 
He shot her a warning look before continuing.

“This Claw’s Pride was decimated yesterday evening, my monarch.
 
The Fang slaughtered them.”

“Little surprise there,” Prong said, sounding petulant.
 
“The Fang almost killed me the day
before,
and this Claw a few days earlier.
 
Obviously they are in a warlike mood for some reason.”

“Yes, but they attacked you and Katara in a pack, as Fang usually do.
 
This was a different sort of attack, a cowardly one.
 
They have a new sort of fang, one that kills from a distance.”

The monarch rose slowly to his feet.
 
In his dark eyes was an expression Hart had never seen there before, an expression of deepest alarm.
 
“What sort of fang?”

Hart held up one of the fangs, which they had managed to recover from one of the fallen Claw.
 
“The fangs look like this, Father.
 
This is the tooth—
“ He
pointed to the sharp end, made of crudely formed metal.
 
“I assume the feathers at the other end of the shaft help it fly through the air.”

Prong scowled.
 
“It hardly seems that it could fly without wings.”

“We believe it is shot from this.”
 
Hart held up the wooden and sinew implement they had recovered in the woods.
 
“It bites with a great deal of force and does a large amount of damage from a distance, my liege.
 
If aimed well, it kills instantly.
 
This woman was struck by a fang, and only recovered because I was able to take her to the safe house.
 
Several members of her Kindred were not so lucky.”

“Why do we care what toys the Fang Kindred have developed?” Prong drawled.
 
“What have they to do with us?”

“They have attacked us, and the Claw, several times in the past few days,” Hart said.
 
“Indeed, they lured myself and the Claw to their lands and then attacked us with these fangs.
 
I believe they are trying to draw us out, to make us march on their territory en masse.
 
Failing that, I fear they will approach our villages and attack us from a distance, slaughtering our people.
 
They could kill us by the score, perhaps even by the hundred, before we realized we were under attack.”

His father scowled.
 
“The Fang have left us alone for years.
 
Why would they attack us now?”

Hart shook his head.
 
“I know not.
 
Prong, when they attacked you, had you done something to anger them?
 
Did you perhaps encroach upon their territory?”

“Think you that I have a death wish, brother?
 
Of course not.
 
I was on neutral land when they ambushed me.”

Hart shook his head, baffled.
 
“I admit I do not know what their motivations are. But I do know that our people are in very grave danger.
 
We of the royal family are safe enough, within these walls, and our townspeople will be safe within their own dwellings.
 
But our Kindred could be slaughtered, in any of the Antler towns scattered across the continent, unless they are aware of the danger.
 
We must warn our people, Father.”

The monarch shook his head slowly.
 
He still looked stunned, as if such a development had never occurred to him, and Hart felt a brief spurt of annoyance.
 
They didn’t have time to waste while an old man came to grips with a new reality.

The thought stunned him.
 
An old man
.
 
He’d never before thought of his father as old.
 
But standing before them all, his gray hair shaggy around his lined, weathered face, the monarch did indeed look old.

“What of the Claw?” the monarch asked at last.
 
“Why did you bring them into my keep as guests?
 
They do not deserve our hospitality.
 
They are barbarians.”

“We must work with them,” Hart said firmly.
 
“It is wrong to allow them to be slaughtered, and we may find them a valuable ally.
 
Already I have discovered they are not as barbaric as we have always supposed.”

The monarch’s gaze slid to Katara, glorious in her nudity.
 
She was a sight to turn any man’s head, no matter what his Kindred.
 
His gray eyebrows drew together.
 
“I wonder if your feelings in this matter are entirely without bias.”

Hart felt color stain his cheeks.
 
He opened his mouth to deny the insinuation, but paused, realizing he couldn’t deny his relationship with Katara.
 
He couldn’t pretend she meant nothing to him, no matter what the consequences.
 
She deserved better than to be denied.

“I am certain they are not,” he replied evenly.
 
“The Claw and I have mated.”

The monarch’s eyes went wide, and his mouth dropped open.
 
Prong looked almost as surprised,
then
he grinned.
 
It wasn’t a pleasant smile.

“And you said you’d never mate with a Claw.
 
So tell us, brother.
 
Are Claw women as hot as the stories suggest?
 
Was it like bedding an animal?”

Hart spun toward him, hot rage in his chest.
 
His skin rippled.
 
“I will not countenance that sort of question,” he snapped.
 

Prong lifted his eyebrows.
 
“Don’t tell me you’ve actually developed feelings for her.”

“Feelings?” the monarch echoed, clearly outraged.
 
“For a
barbarian
?”

Hart lifted his head, meeting his father’s angry gaze with a level look of his own.
 
“I am not certain what I feel for the Claw,” he said.
 
“But I do know that it was no casual coupling, and that I have never felt so much for a woman before.”

*****

The last thing Katara had expected was for Hart to admit to the intimacies they had shared.
 
Even more surprising was his admission that their time together had not been casual.
 
Their lovemaking had meant something to her, but she hadn’t been sure it had meant anything to him.

She was shocked to realize he was willing to risk exile by admitting feelings for her.
 
For a “barbarian.”

I have never felt so much
for a woman before
.
 
The words made her heart swell.

The monarch stared at Hart, apparently as much shocked by his admission as she was.
 
Then his skin began to ripple.
 
His robes rent asunder, and an enormous, gray-headed stag appeared.
 
He was even larger than Hart, and his branching antlers were huge.

Hart held out his hands in a gesture of supplication.
 
“Father,” he said.
 
“Please.
 
I do not wish to fight you.”

The gray-headed stag lowered his head and charged.
 
Hart flung himself against the wall, barely eluding the sharp points of the antlers.
 
The stag spun and charged again, and Hart scarcely had a chance to shift and brace himself before their antlers crashed together.
 

Katara drew back against the wall, Prong next to her.

“So,” he said in a conversational tone, barely seeming to notice the violent scuffle going on in front of them.
 
“You have managed to win my brother’s heart.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” she answered wryly, not taking her eyes off Hart as the stags drew back,
then
lunged again, slamming their antlers together and seeking to knock each other to the ground.

“Perhaps not.
 
But he seems to have captured yours, judging from the way you’re watching him.”

The monarch lunged forward with such fury that Hart slipped, almost falling.
 
The stags’ antlers locked together.
 
Katara started forward, her hands outstretched to take her weight as she shifted, but Prong caught her arm before she could transform.

“Do not think to interfere,” he said quietly.
 
“Among our people, a man must fight his own battles.”

The gray-headed stag twisted his head, and Hart fell to the ground with a resounding thud.
 
Katara yanked her arm away from Prong’s restraining hand.

“Among my people,” she snapped, “a woman fights at her man’s side.”

She jumped forward, shifting midleap, so that she landed on all fours in her leopard form, just in front of Hart.
 
She flattened her ears back and let her lips curl up menacingly, showing her teeth.
 
The monarch shied back with the natural instinct of his kind, then dropped his head in a clear threat, too angry to pay heed to his instincts.