Rebel Ice (31 page)

Jado, come to me
, he thought, opening his heart to the darkness.
Stay with me, this last walk on the path
.

Slowly he drifted into the twilight world, but no dreams came. Perversely, they were going to leave him in the dark, and that, more than anything, convinced Teulon that the rebellion would fail. Hope was truly done when not even the ghosts of the past would come to haunt his soul.

Or it has come to the moment when I no longer have a soul.

Weight settled near him. Bsak often climbed onto the furs beside him to keep him warm. Teulon reached out from his sleep and stroked silky hair. Akara had possessed the most beautiful hair. Black as the night, falling like dark silk to her hips, and as soft as their infant son's shorter, unruly locks. Teulon had spent hours brushing and braiding his wife's hair.

How I honored you, my heart. How I failed you.

Akara came to him. She did not look frightened this time, as she always had. She seemed only sad.
I am where I am to be, and you have your path. Follow it
.

He reached out to her, and she came into his arms.

Only know the price
, she whispered.

There she began to burn, silent, looking up at him through the flames, her cerulean skin darkening to black, peeling away, her bones charring. In her arms, their son huddled as he, too, burned to ash.

His muffled scream jerked him out of the dark, and he sat up, the sweat pouring down his body, his frame shaking. Something was making a soft sound. There were hands stroking him, arms embracing him.

He lifted his hand to untie the strap, but smaller fingers were already at the knot. Another hand brushed the hair back from his eyes. A third hand rubbed a soothing circle over his chest.

"You were dreaming," Resa whispered in the dark to his right, where she lay against him. She turned only for a moment, to throw away the shredded strap.

Teulon felt long hair stream across his chest as Jarn, on his left, wiped the blood from his mouth with her hand.

Chapter Eighteen

"Will I be blind?" Reever asked the woman tending to him.

"No." Hands adjusted the furs keeping him warm. "The blindness is only temporary, from the flash of the blast. The healer has checked the insides of your eyes and they are still functioning. She says it will take a few days before you may see again."

He had woken up in some sort of primitive hospital, alive, but with most of his head swathed in bandages. There were seven other men around him, survivors of Bjola, he presumed, and two women moving around the ward who were tending to them.

All were Iisleg.

"Are you thirsty?" the woman was asking him. "The healer said you may have water, or some soup."

The healer.

"There was a healer who found me, at Bjola," he said, choosing his words so as not to alarm the nurse. "If she is here, I must speak to her immediately."

"I do not know who found you, but Jarn and Resa led the vral to rescue the wounded. It was likely one of them, but I will ask. No." Her hand kept him from sitting up. "Stay as you are. You are still weak from the bleeding, and you cannot see to move around, remember?"

Reever took the time the nurse was gone to check the rest of his body. He was battered and bruised all over, and he had a ferocious headache, but he was able to move without impairment. He considered tearing off the bandage, but he didn't need his eyes to recognize his wife.

It was enough to know that he had found her.

An hour passed before she came. "You asked for me?"

"I know you are an ensleg, and you do not have enough sense to take adequate cover during a patrol barrage." Cherijo's cool hands touched the exposed part of his face. "Your fever is gone. I'm very pleased with you. Once your eyes heal, you may rejoin your unit."

She didn't know him. Reever was stunned into silence.
She didn't know him
.

There were a thousand possible reasons as to why, but that didn't matter. All Reever had to do was link with her, and show her the memories of their life together. That would erase whatever had been done to her mind.

"Give me your hand," he said, reaching out.

"Here." She placed her hand in his. "Don't be afraid. Your vision will return, I promise you."

As Reever held his wife's hand, he hesitated. He was not a physician, but he knew that amnesia was not always attributed to physical injury. Sometimes the victim forgot the past to protect the mind. Then there was Cherijo's unique physiology, which was far different from a normal Terran's.

What did this to her? Why doesn't she know me?

He couldn't risk a link until he knew what had happened to her. For that, he needed to see her. He lifted his hands to the bandages.

"No." She drew his hands back. "I know your eyes are itching; it is from the medicine that I put into them. You must not rub or scratch at them."

"I have to see you."

"I am flattered, ensleg, but you can see me tomorrow. Leave the bandage alone until then, and try to sleep while you can." She moved away to check the patient in the berth beside him.

Reever tracked her movements through the ward, and listened to her voice. She spoke flawless Iisleg, and used their idioms, yet also used League medical terms. She would not have been able to recall them had she not remembered something of her past.

Squilyp will know what to do
. The Omorr Senior Healer on board the Torin's ship knew a great deal about Cherijo's condition. In the past he had operated on her hands and treated her for a mental aberration that had almost got her killed. He was a skilled surgeon and doctor; he would have an answer to this.

For now, Reever had to get her out of this war and off the world.

As soon as Reever was sure there was no one in close proximity to him, he checked his wrist. Because he was an ensleg, they had left his wristcom in place and activated to translate his voice. Carefully he deactivated it, removed it, and inverted it, and then concealed it in the furs by his head.

The message was prerecorded, so he did not have to speak into the unit before transmitting. There had been only one message that he had ever intended sending. All he had to do was press a switch, and the tiny, powerful transponder inside his wristcom was activated.

It sent a coded signal on a secured channel with an encryption that no one but Xonea Torin could read,

I have found her.

Reever pressed a second switch. It removed the message and cycled the signal tone only, making it into a beacon. The repeated tone was also something Xonea would understand. It meant that Reever needed assistance getting off Akkabarr.

Now, Xonea
, Reever thought as he began working the bandages loose,
show me how much you honor my wife
.

As soon as Resa and Teulon were asleep, Jarn slipped out of the shelter and walked through the bitter cold to the field hospital. The ward nurses were busy inventorying supplies and indicated there were no problems with the patients, who were all asleep.

All but the Terran, Jarn discovered as she went out onto the ward. He was trying to work the bandage

from his eyes. "You must not remove this," she told him as she sat down beside him and removed his hands from his face. "I will put you into restraints if I must."

"I would not recommend you do." He turned his head toward her. "You sound tired." "I could not sleep." Jarn tucked in a loose fold of linen. "My thoughts are the wind tonight." "So are mine." His mouth curled on one side. "Tell me about yourself, Healer. How did you come to join

the rebellion?" She could blame Teulon for persuading her, but in truth what she had done was her own fault. "It seemed

an intelligent thing to do at the time. Now I have my doubts. What is a Terran doing fighting on Akkabarr?" "I came to find my wife." She remembered how he had spoken of her, the first time they had met at the site of the wreck, when she

had repaired his facial wound. "Fighting a war is not finding a woman." "I found her." He took her hand in his. "On a battlefield." Jarn frowned. "You left her there?" "In a manner of speaking. She did not recognize me." His fingers felt very warm on hers. "I think she is

safer not knowing yet. You are involved with the Raktar."

Jarn thought of Resa and Teulon, sleeping peacefully in each other's arms. Seeing how they looked together had made her feel like an intruder. "In a manner of speaking." "Do you and the other healer love him?" What an odd question. "Resa and I are loyal to him. He is a great leader." She inspected his features.

"War is not a time for lovers, ensleg." "When the war is over?"

The Terran sat up and brought her hand to his face. "Take off the bandage and check my eyes." "Or you will rip it off yourself during the night, I suppose?" He nodded. She began unwinding the bandage. "Your eyes have not had time to heal. You will not be able to see anything. Keep them closed until I switch off these lights."

Once the bandage was off, she darkened the emitters near him and returned to his side. "Now, look at

me." The Terran opened his eyes, which were still milky with the medication drops she had put in them to treat the damage. "I can see a little now."

"Good. You heal quickly, Terran." She bent over to replace the dressing. "If you do not acquire an infection from fiddling with your bandages, your full vision should return in another two or three days." He caught her wrists with his hands. "You are certain of this?" "It could take a little less time, or a little more." Jarn wondered if she should use the scarce sedatives on him anyway. "All will be well again, ensleg." "Yes." He released her. "It will be, soon."

Resa met Jarn outside surgery the next morning, and took the bin with the blackened, amputated foot from her. "How is he?"

"Stable. I was hesitant to use a local, but he was calm enough once we put a curtain in place." After they returned to the hospital, Jarn stripped off her gloves and plunged her hands into the heated water in the washbasin to warm them. The heatarcs were needed for the comfort of the patients, so surgery was always chilly. "How was the Raktar when he woke?"

"Rested." Resa smiled a little. "Grateful."

"When the war is over, he will need someone at his side." Jarn gave her a level look. "It will not be me, Resa. It will be you."

"Who can say what will be?" Resa shrugged. "Teulon left to go to the northern territories. He said it was time to lead the reserves against Skjonn and the other skim cities."

Jarn shook the water from her hands. "It is too soon for that. The third phase was not to be initiated for several days."

"I heard him and Hasal speaking of it earlier," Resa said. "The Kangal is forming an alliance with the League. That will supply the Kangal with all the ships and soldiers he needs, and the war will be over. Teulon must take the cities today."

Men shouting from outside the shelter made Jarn tense. Both women listened as furious protests clashed with one adamant voice.

"That is Hasal." Jarn pulled on her robe and threw one to Resa before running out.

The Raktar's second was standing in the center of the men, arguing with half a dozen of them.

"No, I have my orders. The Raktar always anticipated this." To another man, Hasal said, "It has been a danger since he came to us. We must continue as he has bidden."

Jarn shoved the men out of her way. "Hasal. What has happened?"

The sight of her made Hasal close his eyes for a moment. "The Raktar's company was on their way to meet with the reserves. They were ambushed." Hasal spit on the ice. "The survivors we found say the only man they took onto the ship was the Raktar. They took him to Skjonn."

"Someone has betrayed us," Resa said as she joined Jarn and Hasal. She looked around the circle. "Who?"

Hasal pulled his knife. "Navn's son. He came last night with tales of League alliances. He told the Raktar that Orjakis was going to get ships and troops from them. He set the plan into motion too soon. He must have done so in order to ambush the general." To one of the rebels, he said, "Fetch him."

Jarn frowned. "Resa, did the Raktar tell Hasal about Aktwar this morning?" She noticed the men staring at her, and reached up to touch her exposed face.

"I tried to stop you." Resa handed her one of the vral masks. "Too late for these, I think."

"You are women," one of the men murmured, his gaze moving from the blob masks to their faces. "Only women."

"It was not me!" Aktwar Navn, struggling between two hunters, was dragged into the circle. "It was them!" He twisted loose and rushed at Jarn, who pulled her blade. He came to a comical halt and spit at the feet of the two women. "Filth, to accuse me of betrayal."

"Actually," Hasal said from behind Aktwar, "it was I who accused you. I heard what you said to the Raktar last night. You lied to send him out into a trap."

"Jarn," Resa murmured, drawing her back. "Teulon's decision to go was based on what this boy told him."

Hasal gave them a quick, hard look, but Navn's son was too busy shouting at the other men to hear what Resa had said. "You see? This ensleg was cast out of my father's iiskar to become skela, like this one. They are filth, and filth always betrays the worthy."

Resa walked up to him. "I saved your life, boy, when you were too afraid to defend it."

He lunged at her and wrapped his hands around her throat. "You will die a proper death this time, ensleg." He stiffened a moment later and collapsed against her.

Behind him, Hasal lowered his crossbow.

Resa lowered the boy to the ground and checked him, but the bolt had penetrated the back of his neck. "He is dead."

"Aktwar!" A woman dressed in a fine robe fought her way to the dead boy's body, and threw herself on top of it. "My son, my son." She sobbed uncontrollably.

Resa stood and looked at the faces around them. "Yes, we are women. We were skela before we joined

the rebellion. So were all the other vral." "There is not a man here who can say that the vral have not fought as long or as hard or as fiercely as you," Jarn told them. She pulled her hood back so that her long dark hair was exposed, as well.