Joboam. It wished to be true. So it has called out to its brother Knife. And its brother Knife has called to me. And I have made it a promise, to give it what it wants.'
He leaned closer over the sleeping man. Ridges divided Joboam's brows and his breath was becoming uneven. Joboam's spirit was uneasy. Kerlew fixed his wide eyes on Joboam's closed ones, breathed his breath into his face as he said softly, 'You know what the Knife wants, Joboam.'
The big man's eyes flickered open wide.
KERLEW: THE NIGHT
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
'Wolf! Wolf!'
The hoarse cry rang in Tillu's ears and jerked her from sleep. It was inside the tent.
She heard the rustle of flung hides and the sound of quick movement, panting breath.
Tillu rolled from her pallet onto her knees and came to her feet with a short jabbing spear in her hands. She gripped the close-quarters weapon, glaring with sleep-blurred eyes around the darkened interior of the tent. Nothing stirred. Her eyes probed the shadowed corners. All was still and quiet. Her heart slowed its hammering. Kerlew was a hunched bundle under his sleeping furs. She saw him twitch them in closer and guessed he was awake. Awake and hiding from wolves. She sighed as she stepped to the tent door and peered out into the darkness. Nothing at all. Just the cold and the empty darkness under the trees beneath the starry skies of early morning. She turned to Joboam. He was propped up on one elbow. His wide eyes shone black.
'What did you see?' she demanded.
'I ... yellow eyes. Staring at me.' His breathing was coming in ragged gasps. Tillu set down the spear and stepped to the firewood stacked neatly by the door. She tossed a few sticks onto the dying coals of the fire and then crossed the tent to kneel by Joboam.
She touched the side of his neck and then his bandaged arm with quick, cool fingers.
His face was still heavy with sleep and the pain of her healing.
'Your fever's broken. That's all. Sometimes when one goes from fever sleep to dreaming, the dreams are bright and hard. There's nothing here. Go back to sleep.'
'I ...' Joboam seemed both dazed and exhausted. He looked about her tent in bewilderment. 'What am I doing here?'
Tillu hunkered down on her heels beside him. The earth was cold under her bare feet. 'You came to have me heal your arm, remember? I gave you a tea to relax you, and dug a bone splinter out of your arm, and bandaged it. Your arm bled again, you were sleepy from the tea, and draining the swelling of your arm gave you a fever. That sometimes happens. We healers say the body burns itself clean. So I let the fever burn, but not too high. And now you are better. Remember? You woke twice and I gave you water. Remember?' She spoke soothingly, as if to a frightened child. After a moment Joboam relaxed.
'Yes. Yes, I remember now. Drink and rest, you told me. But the wolf ... I felt his hot breath in my face. His eyes were yellow and he laughed at me ...'
'A dream. Only a dream.' Tillu pushed the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead, checked once more for fever. The man smelled sour with fear. 'You've sweated out the poisons. That's good. Sleep now, and by morning you'll be ready to go home.'
'Yes. I'll sleep.' His words started to drag, and then suddenly he was up on one elbow again, deep creases furrowed between his brows. 'A bone fragment? From my arm?'
'Not your own bone. A piece of worked bone or horn.'
'Where is it? Let me see it. I want it.'
'It's here, it's right here, just a moment,' Tillu soothed him. Shadows in the tent were deep. She was tired and sleepy and growing impatient with his dream fears and compulsions. Her fingers trailed along the earth floor, finding first his knife, then a piece of bark, then some bits of the moss she had used to clean his wound. She groped some more, her toes going numb against the cold earth. 'I'll find it in the morning,' she promised, wondering why he was so anxious. She offered him the knife, hilt first, 'I borrowed your knife to open your arm. My own is old and dull, and a sharp blade is best for such work.'
He took it from her wordlessly, stared at it in puzzlement, and then let it fall from his fingers back onto the dirt floor. He rolled onto his back and stared into the shadowed point of the ceiling. 'Wolf. It was Wolf, and he showed me two knives. One was whole, and one was ... broken. He showed them to me, and then he laughed. He said ... he laughed. That was all.'
'A dream. Just a fever dream.' She wished he would go back to sleep. She was getting cold, crouched here in just her long shirt. She was taken by surprise when his good arm shot out suddenly and his hand gripped her upper arm hard.
'Tell no one,' he ordered her fiercely, if you tell anyone you healed me, I'll kill you.'
'Easy.' She pulled at his digging fingers, wincing as his grip only tightened. 'You're dreaming still. Let go, you're hurting me. Let go!'
'Tell no one!' he repeated insistently. His eyes blazed.
'I won't tell anyone. Why would anyone be interested? Let go.'
'Good. Don't tell.' He stared at her. His grip loosened but he did not free her. Instead he pulled her close, until she was leaning over the pallet. His eyes darted to the shadows behind her, then came back and moved slowly down her body, 'I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry.'
'Let go of me.'
'Don't be angry. I was ... it was just the dream. I didn't mean to hurt you.' His voice was low, soft.
'I know that and I'm not angry. Just let me go.'
'Why?' His eyes still burned, but with a different fire. He winced slightly as he moved his other hand up to touch her face, 'I saw you looking at me. Before you healed my arm.' She pulled back from the caress, baring her teeth.
'Let go of me, or I'll hurt you.' She spoke quietly.
'You? You're no bigger than a child!' He smiled indulgently. His free hand touched her breast through the thin leather of her shirt, pinching her nipple. Then he gasped as her hand fell on his injured arm and tightened on the bandage.
'I'm not pretending. Let go of me, or I'll give you pain.'
His grip dropped from her arm and she sprang back instantly. 'You leave my tent tomorrow morning.' She bit the words off. She could feel Kerlew watching, listening.
'As soon as it's light. Do not come back.'
Joboam eased himself back onto the pallet. He stared at her with round eyes. 'Like a little wolverine. I didn't mean to hurt you, Tillu. And you shouldn't try to hurt me.
Come here.' He smiled crookedly, only encouraged by her rebuff.
She stared at him. He had actually believed she wanted him. Still believed it, still believed her reluctance was a game. Had she wanted him? She turned her back on him and went silently back to her pallet. She could not hide from his eyes; they followed her as she lay down and covered herself again. Her heart beat a little faster and she felt more vulnerable lying down. He was a big man, and strong. She let her arm slip down beside her pallet, to find the short spear. She closed her eyes, but listened for movement. She would not sleep again this night. She opened her eyes slightly, peered through her lashes at the fire as it devoured the sticks and fell into coals again. Beneath her lashes she glanced at Joboam. His face was turned toward her, watching her.
Smiling.
