Now the four were assembled in front of Arrez, and Samara, the sister of Roe’s grandmother, came toward them. Three women chose the names for the children: the mother, the eldest female of the Atare house, and one more relative of the mother’s choosing. Roe had chosen Liel. Nodding to Arrez, Samara’s rich, throaty contralto rolled out.
“Now comes the reason for our gathering, Brethren. Before Most Holy Mendülay and the people we declare these four people to have special bonds to our next chosen ones and announce the naming. They are named by tradition, and as always uniquely. The elder shall be Arien reb^Ronüviel Atare. ‘Arien’ is from the ancients, and means ‘free-flyer, high soarer, nightrider.’ The younger shall be Breeyan reb^Ronüviel Atare. The name, from the tiovi, means ‘star traveller,’ for it is said this one shall travel far before he comes to the throne of his ancestors.”
As Samara said the last words Roe glanced quickly to where Mariah had been sitting. That was the first thing the woman said, upon seeing the child: “This one must travel far, ’ere he finds his heart’s desire, and discovers the burden of the chain.” But Mariah was gone, and Elana too. Ronüviel frowned—this, of all things, was something the women would not want to miss. There was more to the ceremony—the baptism with water, the laying-on of hands and anointing with oil—but Roe’s mind was on other things, churning, the healer within suddenly terribly worried with a premonition she could not name.
NEW TEMPLE HEIGHTS
TWOHUNDRED ELEVENDAY, LAUDS (MOONSET)
Arrez stood at the entrance to the new temple heights, his grip on his polished wooden beads painful. He stared down the long corridor past the prayer niches to the upper cave opening; the picture window, as it was called. No starrise cut through the murkiness beyond. The last rain from the sea slanted toward the mountains, driving against the rocky overhand. The priest did not hear Ronüviel as she entered the hallway from the direction of the life shelter.
The woman moved slowly—what with the baptism, the twins and the operation she had just performed, she had found no rest. Her assistant was finishing in post-op; it was her task to talk to Arrez.
Finally the man turned his head, acknowledging her presence. “Well?” he asked, his voice mild. “It is early. Many children have been premature since the bombs fell. But you removed her from her room. What is it?”
Roe hesitated, her face bleak. “She lives.”
Arrez seemed to consider her choice of words. “The child?”
The woman shook her head negatively.
“Will there be others?”
“I do not think so.”
Arrez looked back out the picture window. Roe glanced toward the opening, wondering what he saw. “Is she awake?” he said at last. “Does she know?”
“Yes. She insisted on knowing everything. I think she has suspected since the beginning that it was her last. But we could not anticipate ...“
“It is all right, Ronüviel” was the gentle reply. “It is Mendülay’s will, no matter how we see it. At least he has spared my life’s blood. I am blessed.” There were tears in his voice. Silently touching his arm, Roe retreated to the life shelter, the man following.
Elana lay in silence, her eyes seeing nothing. Shinar stood near her, a tight, frightened expression on the young woman’s face. Arrez sat down on the edge of the bed. “Elana? Belaiss?” The endearment penetrated her fog. She blindly extended her arms for his. They sat that way a long time.
“It was a manchild,” Elana whispered.
AMURA HARBOR
TWOHUNDRED ELEVENDAY, TIERCE
Braan could not wait until the Nova’s gangplank was brought to rest. Grabbing hold of a piece of rigging hanging on the side, he pulled himself up and over the ship’s railing with a simple, fluid hand-over-hand action. Leaping over a barrel, he seized Gid in a hard embrace. “You missed the baptism.”
“You did not wait.”
“Wait? No word, and then you sneak around the point at night with no lanterns. The excuse had better be good.”
Gid laughed. “Something unexpected came up, and we had to make an unscheduled stop in Merigwin. I brought you a surprise.”
“Not a puppy, I hope.” Gid looked blank. “Zair’s lady friend whelped almost a dozen, and the owner wants to give me all but the two he promised Roe!”
“Well, I will take one, and you had better get one for the friend I brought you.” As he finished, at the opposite end of the moonraker a lovely, dark-haired young woman stepped out of the passenger’s cabin, a bundle in her arms.
Braan immediately leaned over to Gid. “I do not believe you. First you push your mother on me and now—”
“No, no! On the contrary! Not her—him!” The young woman came closer, nodding her fealty, and Braan suddenly recognized the band on her arm marking her a member of the practitioner’s guild, dealing with mothers and children. Shyly she opened the bundle with one hand. Braan did not move.
The square jaw and dimple in the chin had reached a third generation. And the intense, long-lashed eyes, staring at him, it seemed, were already hinting at the emerald green they would become. Braan extended a finger, which the tiny mite took hold of with an amazingly powerful grip. So small, as small as the twins.
“Atare, may I introduce you to Caran reb^Tinyan. He is not much of a talker but has quite a healthy set of lungs, considering he was sixtyday early. This is Defora, from the Merigwin chapter, who agreed to accompany us as nurse.” Gid was watching intently for a reaction. “Needless to point out my fathers are not his father. Tinyan originally wished for Arrez and Elana to take him, but Defora’s guild said she is expecting her own any moment.”
“She had it,” Braan managed to say. “It was born dead. Last night.” Defora went pale.
Gid winced. “As usual, my timing is superb. We will petition the elders—”
“No.” Braan carefully took the manchild from Defora. “Come. Both of you.”
NEW TEMPLE HEIGHTS
TWOHUNDRED ELEVENDAY, TIERCE
Roe did not know what to say. She had not intended to sit here with Elana and nurse her twins; it seemed cruel. But here was her friend, holding the womanchild, Arien, and actually suggesting she might function as a wet nurse for other women for a time. Roe was impressed and wondered how much was a brave front.
It was strange and yet relaxing to have Odelle with them. Corymb’s sister-daughter was only ninetyday from delivery. Many were delivering prematurely; she was therefore being watched very closely. Odelle was a high-strung woman— no, child—by nature, and this pregnancy only made things worse. It was extremely important to her to have a healthy boy or at least a healthy girl, but eventually a boy as well. She feared that she might not be able to carry more than once or twice, and Corymb was counting on her. Otherwise, he lost his position in the family, unless Dielaan voted to keep him, and would become merely another elder. Of course, there was no basis for her worry. The odds were the same for her as for any other 20. Roe wove her thoughts back into Odelle’s speech.
“It was a horrible dream. The infant had two heads, and both sexes and—” Odelle paused, shuddering. “I know, ridiculous, but I cannot rid myself of it. Maybe ...” Her voice dropped, and she looked quickly to see who was listening: “It is a punishment for the Dielaan’s sins.”
Shaking her head, Elana said, “Odelle, we cannot promise the child is not sini—the very thing that shields mother and child from each other keeps us from knowing such things. However, I can stake my reputation that it will not be sinishur.”
“You do not understand, Elana. Five generations ago my husband’s line had a mock sini—not serious, but the manchild was taken to Tolis. And neither his line nor my branch of Dielaan has yet produced a healer. We are not free!” There was agony in her voice. Roe said nothing. There were no guarantees—all paths were fraught with danger. Elana was a perfect example.
Shinar walked into the room, changing the subject. “The Nova is in, and Gid is on it. I heard they are coming this
way.”
“Felt the baby move yet?” Odelle asked, suddenly looking mischievous.
Shinar made a face. “How would you like your black curls scattered from here to Seedar?” But she also laughed. Shinar had been so excited over the prospect of the baby, she was feeling movement at first with every ache and gas pain. Her peers enjoyed teasing her. Now she turned to her mother, trying to hide her concern. Until an hour ago, Shinar had not left Elana since the surgery. She had finally dragged Arrez off for some food.
“Why do you not go bother Kal?” Roe said. Shinar immediately looked as if she was going to object.
“I think that is a good idea, Shinar,” Elana said firmly. “He needs pestering, and you look too solemn.” Then her voice dropped to a tight whisper. “The best thing for all of us is to get busy with something right away. Please do.” Shinar reached over and hugged the woman, and then rushed out. Odelle raised her arms to take Arien, and the scientist gave her up. Elana then held her head high to prevent tears from escaping.
There was a knock at the apartment shield.
“Yes?” Roe asked.
“Ronüviel?” It was Gid’s voice.
“I will come out when I am done feeding Bree, just a—”
“We would rather come in if you do not mind. Just Braan and I and a lady friend.”
That piqued her curiosity. “Enter.” The three walked in, the young woman shy, at the rear, and clearly not Gid’s type. Roe turned a puzzled face to them and realized Braan was carrying not a bundle but a baby.
“I have brought a new playmate for the twins. This is Caran reb^Tinyan, and Defora is his travel nurse, from Merigwin.”
“A brother! Gid, how nice,” Elana said, her voice soft but clear. “Who is the father?”
“I am.” Braan paused, and then continued hurriedly. “Tinyan and her men originally wanted you and Arrez to take him, if you would, but they did not know you were expecting your own. Are you willing or interested in such a thing?” Elana stared at him. “It is traditional to at least reveal the mother’s request. If not, we shall petition the synod. Would you rather dismiss it to the elders or talk with Arrez first or—”
“Braan—” Roe did not know whether to be angry or afraid.
“We must determine if Defora is staying or returning home, depending on our own chapter’s ability to provide for the child. And—” Braan stopped his run-on. Elana said nothing but extended her arms for the squirming manchild. Braan hesitated only a second and then handed her the babe. The child stopped struggling, looking up at the woman with enormous eyes, and then snuggled closer, seeking a reassuring breast and meal.
“I realize that this is a sudden and monumental decision—” Braan started to say, and then saw tears falling on the blanket.
Roe had finished feeding Breeyan and, in one movement, secured her blouse and handed the manchild to a surprised Gid. Moving to Elana, she sat on the bed’s edge. “Elana ... Elana? Do not be upset, they will understand. It is—”
“Get Arrez.” Odelle had already slipped away, depositing the sleeping Arien in Braan’s arms. Elana did not speak again; only the silent tears gave any sign of her reaction. They waited, and presently an out-of-breath Arrez arrived. He took in the scene with a glance and then pulled up a stool next to the bed. Elana looked up at him, her eyes glazed with tears. “A boon has been asked, a charge laid upon us. This is Caran reb^Tinyan, brought to you and me by his half brother, Gid reb^Tinyan, and presented by his blood father. Shall we take up his life or shall we pass him to the elders?”
Arrez studied her face and then surveyed the child. “What say you?”
Elana sighed. “I rejoiced at the new chance at life and love we were offered; I cursed Mendülay when it was taken back and cursed myself for the words. For all we know, it is this one who has needed us all along.” She touched a dark infant curl, no longer facing Arrez, waiting.
“I have no objections. As you will,” Arrez answered.
Roe could see Elana’s tears beginning to fall again. “I think you will take them to their cradles,” Roe said, pushing Braan and Gid out the doorway. “Braan, put her down first. Make sure Gid knows how. I am sure this manchild is hungry ... and I think things will be all right.”
oOo
TWOHUNDRED ELEVENDAY, VESPERS
Braan slipped away from the garedoc gathering early, letting them temper joys and sorrows as they wished. Those who believed in signs from God debated the death of the high priest’s child against the arrival of Tinyan’s little one and the fact that the heir was the third in a row to have a name beginning with B. Of course three was a lucky number, yet purists argued that Tal bore the title a few moments. Braan left it all behind.
The guaard had brought word from off-planet contacts; Asiai had been found, and relocated with his dead wife Enid’s parents. For the time being, she was safe. It was a private joy to be shared only with Dylan. There would be time later to tell Ronüviel and the others.
Roe had stayed with Elana until starset and then finally retreated for the night to her husband’s arms. Elana, too, was exhausted; she was in pain, and afraid to take medication for fear it would contaminate her milk. She insisted that she could wait for Roe’s healing touch. Braan hoped she was sleeping. He made his way to the new temple heights, to look at Caran reb^Tinyan for himself.
The outer opening was merely beads, but no one answered his soft knock on the shield. He peeked in—the partition to the bedroom was closed. Leaving his guaard at the door, Braan quietly moved to the cradle. To his amazement, the babe was awake and aware of him, calmly sucking on his fist. Braan studied him a moment, and then carefully picked him up.
“You have been passed around like a bushel of vegetables, have you not?” Braan whispered softly to him. His voice did not frighten the manchild. Trustingly secure as he lay along Braan’s arm, his head fitting perfectly in the man’s palm, the infant reached up and out, attempting to seize the glittering chain of office. “You do not really want that—it is a pain in the ass. Believe me, I have been there. I cannot give you two names, but I shall give you what I can, the important things, if you want them. Then you will not need two names—one will be enough. And better than this chain; more. I know.”
So absorbed was he with the child he did not hear the bedroom partition open and close, or see Teloa pause, a little smile teasing at the corners of her lips as she watched them. The woman slipped off without comment, nodding to Arrez as they passed.
Braan heard the beads move, but did not look up. “If you will excuse me, I have to go eat. Your half brother is waiting for me, and right now he needs me more than you do.” Braan started to set the baby back down.
“Wait.” Arrez stepped forward, a smile lighting his face. He did not tease Braan about his presence there, however. They faced one another, not moving.
“Thank you,” Braan said in parting, extending the child to Arrez.
“Thank you,” the other replied, embracing the babe with long years of practice. Arrez stood there holding Caran a long time after his Atare had left.
ATARE’S PEAK
TWOHUNDRED TWELVEDAY, TIERCE
Braan settled himself more comfortably, his gaze never leaving the 3AV. For a second he drifted, more interested in the disappearing holographic images than the thoughts they conveyed. Then he admitted defeat, his attention moving to the voices in the private corridor. Dylan and Teloa. She was coming to the mid-morning meeting, and apparently Dylan had been shadowing her. Braan briefly wondered if the child was smitten by the woman or truly was that interested in planting. They did seem to like each other.
“He has been getting more attention lately than I have.” He immediately understood what he had said and hoped Tay had not heard.
“Dad?” Dylan peeked around the side of the stalagmite, not wishing to intrude. Teloa’s head followed.
Braan smiled and shut off the AV holographic machine. “I am feeling neglected,” Braan said faintly. “When are you going to come
visit me?”
Dylan laughed and ran over to hug him. “We went to the pools yesterday! I cannot see you all the time because it gets—” Dylan stopped, suddenly aware of what he was saying.
“Yes? Boring?”
Dylan made a face. “All they do is talk, talk. Talk to you, talk at you, talk in front of you like you are not there! Until they want you to settle an argument.”
Braan laughed. “No one said being a ruler was fun all the time. So you like planting better? How about classes?”
“Tay makes it interesting!” Then Dylan looked worried. “I am keeping up my studies, really! I did all the reading up to next templeday!!”
“I believe you, I believe you!” Braan met Tay’s smile over the boy’s head. “I talked to Prinz, and he says in fifteen to twentyday you can go pick a pup from the lady hound’s litter. Do you think you can take care of a little puppy?” The boy’s eyes grew enormous. “I mean it —I shall confiscate it if you do not feed and brush and love it properly.” The boy’s head bobbed up and down vigorously. “All right, then it is settled. Go on.”
Dylan vanished, a flurry of feet skidding down the dark corridor and an earsplitting whoop at the lifts.
“Such joy! Prinz is going to run out of puppies!”
“I think they are all committed. He did not want to keep any, and it gives him a lot of pleasure to give them away, especially to children.”
“And you?”
Braan looked surprised and thoughtful.
“Or you can let Zair stay with you again and I’ll take one!”
Braan shook his head. “No, I think your danger is past, but I would like Zair to stay with you a little while longer. I would feel better about it.” She smiled graciously at this, and Braan felt fractionally unsettled, as if she was looking right through him. He was even more disturbed by the fact that he was upset. He reached languidly to pull out the 3AV.
“Bad news?” It was an honest question. As scripter, she would normally be one of the first to know; he had confided in her more than once.
Fire Sanctuary Page 25
