Destiny's Lovers

by Speer, Flora

  As she dragged him away, Reid snatched up a large jug of batreen.

  “You won’t need that,” the woman said with a knowing laugh. “I’m all you’ll need or want until dawn.”

  “I like the taste,” Reid declared, weaving drunkenly. “We’ll just have another cup before we retire.”

  Anniellia took him to her home in the village. It was little more than a shack, set closer to the water than the other houses. She lit a lamp, then fastened the shutters tight over the single window.

  “Have you cups for the batreen?” Reid asked.

  “Only one,” Anniellia replied, producing a dirty wooden specimen. “You shall use it. You are my guest.”

  “No, lady,” Reid insisted gallantly. “You may use the cup. I’ll drink from the jug.” He filled her cup and then pretended to drink deeply from the jug, upending it.

  “It’s good,” he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He filled Anniellia’s cup again. She drank only half of it before putting it down.

  “Take off all of your clothes,” she ordered. “You are mine for tonight, and I’ve never seen a man who looks like you. I want to watch your body while we’re together.”

  To replace his soiled and damaged treksuit, Reid had been given the same loose grey tunic and trousers the village men wore. When Anniellia reached for the waist of his trousers, he stepped away from her.

  “You first,” he said, filling her cup to the brim. “I want to look at you, too.”

  Anniellia pulled off her grey dress and flung it into a corner.

  “Well?” she asked, pirouetting in front of him. “Am I pretty enough to please you?”

  “You are lovely,” he murmured, hoping he sounded convincing. She was a slightly heavier, much coarser version of Janina. She had full, rich breasts and nicely curving hips. Her hair was a shade or two darker than Janina’s and curly instead of straight. Her eyes were sky-blue. Reid felt not the slightest stirring of desire for her. She was not Janina.

  Anniellia lay down on her narrow bed, spread her legs a little, and beckoned with a provocative smile.

  “Come to me,” she said. “I have been waiting for you all evening, and I’m ready. Just take me now, Reid. We can do it more slowly the next time.”

  “I’m flattered that you chose me.” Handing her the cup of batreen, Reid sat on the edge of her bed. “I shall drink a toast to your beauty.”

  “Can’t that wait until later?” she said peevishly, shifting her legs. “Reid, hurry.”

  “And you must drink a toast to me. I’ll be hurt if you don’t.” Gently but firmly he urged the hand holding the cup toward her lips. “Drink all of it, Anniellia. That’s the custom in my home village.”

  “I’m getting dizzy.” Her voice was plaintive, the words slightly slurred.

  “Have I done that, made you dizzy with desire?” He laid one hand on a bare breast and felt her squirm in pleasure. “Now, I want you to drink another toast, my sweet Anniellia. To your lovely right breast. That’s it. Now another, to your incredibly beautiful left breast.”

  He made her drink toasts to her nose, to each of her ears, all of her fingers and half of her toes before she finally fell asleep. She’d have a foul head in the morning, but he had confirmed the information Janina had given him by asking the lesser priestess, Philian, and she had assured him that while enough batreen would send the drinker into a deep stupor, it never caused any permanent physical damage. It was a completely harmless, totally pleasurable drink. Reid might have enjoyed it himself if he had been free to drink it in safety.

  He picked up Anniellia’s dress from the floor and tucked it over her naked body. Then he splashed a little of the batreen around her so she would smell it in the morning, and finished the job by rumpling the bedclothes. Finally, taking the jug with him, he slipped out the door and headed back to the temple complex.

  The feast was over, except for a few folk draped across the tables in sleep and a group of elderly women talking together, who broke off to stare at him as he went by them. Sidra and Osiyar had gone. Reid made his way toward Osiyar’s dwelling, eager to find his own room and lock the door against the women of Ruthlen.

  The moment he stepped inside the High Priest’s house, Reid knew there was something different within the building, some unusual yet faintly familiar feminine scent. It reminded him of red flowers. He peeked into the rooms used by the two younger priestlings, but they were empty. While priestesses were severely restricted, it seemed the priests were free to spend festival evenings as they wished. Shrugging his shoulders, Reid started for his own room. A low moan stopped him. It came from Osiyar’s chamber.

  Thinking the priest might have imbibed too much batreen and become sick, Reid pushed open the unlatched door, intending to ask if he could help. There, within the chamber, he saw the source of the sweet fragrance and recalled on whom he had recently smelled it.

  Sidra lay naked on her back upon Osiyar’s bed, her softly waving golden hair spilling across the covers, her eyes closed. She was an incredibly beautiful woman in the full ripeness of maturity, who was obviously lost in the throes of passion. Beside her, but not touching her, lay Osiyar, also unclothed and in the same aroused state as Sidra. His eyes, too, were closed. Sidra moaned, and Osiyar answered her with a long, drawn-out groan. The room was filled with a tension so strong Reid could not avoid feeling it, with sexual need, with a woman’s demanding urgency, and with that sweet, heavy khata-flower perfume which he now recognized as Sidra’s.

  Reid turned away in disgust, left Osiyar’s bedchamber, and closed the door softly. He paused for a moment in the round central room of the building, feeling sickened by the perversion of a great power. Now he understood why he had disliked Sidra so much since first meeting her. Something in him had seen her basic falseness.

  Sidra, High Priestess-Designate, was doubtless virgin in body, but in mind and soul she was as unchaste as the lowest prostitute on any prison planet. It took no telepathic ability to understand that the two in the room behind him had linked their minds to commit in spirit an act they were forbidden to perform physically. The dishonesty and hypocrisy of that act took his breath away. He thought he knew who had instigated it, who had the greater telepathic power. The only question unanswered by the scene he had witnessed was whether Osiyar had been seduced or was a weak and willing accomplice.

  He wondered briefly if Tamat knew. Then he thought surely not. That knowledge would destroy her, would break her gallant old heart. For Janina’s sake, who loved Tamat, and because, in spite of their differences about opening Ruthlen to outsiders, he had come to admire and respect the High Priestess, Reid decided not to tell Tamat what he had seen. He hoped she would go to her grave not knowing. He felt certain that Sidra’s telepathic power was strong enough to keep her secret well hidden. But when Tamat was dead, how could he leave Janina under the rule of those two in the room behind him? And what would they plan for him, once Tamat was gone?

  He did not remember leaving Osiyar’s house; he simply found himself in the temple courtyard. Breathing deeply of the clean night air to get Sidra’s perfume out of his lungs, he hurried toward the opening in the encircling wall. His overpowering need to get as far away from Sidra and Osiyar as he could propelled him into the feasting area just outside the entrance.

  “There you are.” A female hand reached toward him to pull him away from the temple complex and into the darkness.

  “Who are you?” he demanded, trying to shake off the unwanted touch.

  “Senastria the fisherwoman,” said the seductive voice. “I want to lie with you, Reid. I want to bear your child. Anniellia said she would have your first son, but she was wrong. It will be me.”

  After what he had just witnessed, Reid wasn’t certain he could have made love then, even with Janina. He felt sick and dirty. This woman did not interest him at all, but he did not want her to make an uproar about his unwillingness.

  He followed her up the nearby hillside. There, on a grassy spot betw
een two rock outcroppings, she pulled him down beside her. To his great relief, Reid realized that he was still carrying the batreen jug. He thought it likely from her behavior that Senastria had already imbibed a fair amount. She proved to be a more willing drinker than Anniellia had been. She gulped right from the jug, giggling, and giggled again when Reid pretended to drink, too. It was not long before she slept soundly on her rocky pillow.

  Reid returned to the temple, where he spent the rest of the night sitting against one of its columns with the empty batreen jug between his legs.

  * * * * *

  “I understand that you lent yourself to two women last night,” Tamat said. “I am pleased with you, Reid, and I will be even more pleased when they produce healthy children.”

  “No one can be certain they will have children,” Reid said.

  “They always do after the twin full moons festival,” Tamat replied serenely.

  Reid had not thought about pregnancy, he had only been interested in avoiding women he didn’t want. He saw Sidra smiling at him and tried to guard his thoughts. He could not look at Janina’s set, unhappy face. He wanted to tell her he had lent himself to no women, because he wanted only her. Realizing that Sidra’s lovely blue eyes were still on him, Reid tried to make his mind a blank.

  “If there is something wrong with Reid, so that these women do not conceive,” Sidra said with false sweetness, “he can always try again at dark moons time, when we will celebrate Janina’s full admission to our ranks. That seems to me an appropriate night for Reid to prove his value to us by impregnating two, or possibly three women. We would like you to father as many children as possible, Reid.”

  Before you are destroyed. The message lay so clearly in his mind that Reid was amazed Tamat had not sensed it. But Tamat obeyed the laws and would not expect her designated successor to violate them. He stood mute, wondering how much of his thoughts Sidra had penetrated, wondering if she knew the contempt and disgust he felt for her.

  “Reid will do what he is required to do,” Tamat said, making Reid remember that in this room there were at least two conversations taking place at one time. Sidra cast a mocking look in his direction before excusing herself to discuss some temple matter with Osiyar.

  Go to your lover, you false, vicious creature, Reid thought scornfully as Sidra walked past him in a sweet wave of khata-flower fragrance.

  Be careful, Reid, she answered silently. You don’t understand the Power you are tempting. He heard her laughter in his mind just before he doubled over and fell to the floor in sudden, excruciating pain.

  Tamat cried out in surprise, while Janina rushed forward to help him. In an instant, the pain was gone. Reid lay too limp from shock to move, with his head in Janina’s lap while she mopped his damp forehead with a corner of her robe. When Reid was able to open his eyes, the first thing he saw was Sidra’s dainty, silver-sandaled foot peeping beneath the hem of her soft blue robe. He thought for a moment that she would kick him or make the pain return with greater intensity. Instead, she spoke aloud.

  “Reid, I believe you have consumed too much batreen and it has disagreed with you. Please be more careful at the next festival.”

  “I will be careful,” Reid promised in the shaky whisper that was all he could muster. Sidra went away. Reid caught Janina’s small hand and held it to his lips for a moment.

  “Stand up, Reid, and face me.” At Tamat’s bidding, Reid took a couple of deep breaths and made himself get off the floor. Tamat looked hard at him. “I do not believe what just happened to you was the result of batreen. What is wrong?”

  “Nothing, Tamat.” He felt steadier now. The brief, unbelievable pain was only a memory, coupled with a fear that it would return. He recognized that fear as something Sidra had implanted in his mind in an attempt to gain control over him.

  “You lie.” It was said without anger. The aged High Priestess leaned her head against the back of her chair, watching him intently.

  “I will not permit access to my thoughts,” Reid said, bringing a look of surprise to her face. He could not let her know what Sidra and Osiyar had done together, or what Sidra had just done to him. Tamat was so old and frail that if she knew, it would destroy her, and there was no one else but Sidra to take her place. After this morning’s demonstration, Reid felt certain he would not last long if Sidra were High Priestess, and she might well choose to harm Janina, too. Even if she did not, Tamat’s death would cause great pain to Janina. No, he had to avoid doing anything that might shorten Tamat’s life.

  “I have right of free access, but I do not believe this matter is urgent enough for me to expend the energy necessary to cross the barriers you would erect against me. If you will not allow me to enter your thoughts, then tell me in words,” Tamat commanded.

  “I cannot,” Reid told her. “Trust me, Tamat. Believe that I will resolve any problem in my own way.”

  “I know you are an honest man.” Tamat let out a long breath. “Keep your thoughts to yourself then. Only remember, I am not without power.”

  If Sidra had said that to him, Reid would have called it a threat. From Tamat’s lips, the words were like a promise of help.

  “Thank you, Tamat.” She sent him away then, and he left without another look from Janina, who had resumed her demure stance by Tamat’s side.

  “Child,” Tamat said when the door had closed behind Reid, “you must end this dangerous attachment. Reid’s coming has disturbed everyone in the temple and the village, but you most of all. He is meant for the village women. You are meant for the temple.”

  “I have tried to dismiss him from my thoughts by every exercise I ever learned in concentration,” Janina replied. “But since the day I prophesied his coming, he has lodged in my heart and I cannot tear him out of it.”

  “I wish I had never arranged that Test, nor made the potion you drank,” Tamat muttered. “But unfortunately, I am unable to foresee the future and so I could not tell that the result of my actions would be pain and disharmony to your heart and mind.”

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Janina cried, going to her knees beside Tamat’s chair. “What has happened between Reid and me isn’t your fault, nor his, either. I don’t want you to think it’s his deliberate doing. It’s just that we knew each other at once. I feel we were meant to meet. Reid is part of me.”

  “Sidra likes him no better than she likes you,” Tamat said. “I fear for both of you when I am gone.”

  “Do you think Sidra made him ill just now?” Janina asked. “It happened so suddenly, and then, just as suddenly, he was well again.”

  “She would not dare.”

  Janina thought Sidra would dare, and furthermore, she thought Tamat suspected as much, though she would not admit it. There was something peculiar happening, an intense undercurrent to life in the temple in recent days. She had been so involved with her feelings toward Reid and her growing unhappiness at her own fate that she had walked through her days without consciously noticing the way Sidra and Osiyar talked in quiet voices or whispers and abruptly stopped when anyone came near. They had always done that, for as long as Janina could remember, but recently the murmurings and sidelong glances had increased. The two lesser priestesses had changed, too. Philian was now openly fearful of Sidra and clung to Tamat’s side whenever she could. The other, Adana, spent most of her time with Sidra. Tamat did not seem to notice, but Janina was certain the High Priestess knew what was going on.

  Among Janina’s duties was that of walking into the village each day, to the market by the sea wall to select fish for the evening meal. The fish-sellers had never shown any friendliness toward her, yet they dared not be too disrespectful because of her connection with the temple. On the day after the twin full moons festival, Senastria had the best fish, so Janina had to make her choices from the unexpectedly talkative woman.

  “That’s a rare man you keep at the temple,” Senastria said, grinning widely. “He satisfied me better than any of these village dolts could ever d
o, and look at the catch I’ve made today after spending the night with him. He has brought me luck. I’ve heard that the next time he’ll be lent to us is during the dark moons festival. I’ll be first in line at the entrance, waiting for him.”

  Janina laid the fish in her basket and turned aside, unable to make any answer that would not embarrass her. She was not to be allowed to leave the marketplace easily, however. Anniellia stood blocking her way, legs spread, fists on her hips. Janina stopped, but Anniellia was not interested in her.

  “You only had him for a short time, and after I had already finished with him,” she told Senastria. “I had him for most of the night, and I can tell you, he nearly broke my bed with his passion. What a man! What endurance! I’ll gladly bear all the children Tamat wants, so long as Reid puts them inside me.”

  “He was with me longer!” Senastria yelled.

  “He was with me first!” Anniellia retorted.

  “That’s because you dragged him away from the feast,” screamed Senastria. “He left you to come to me and he was so eager he couldn’t wait to walk to my house. He took me right there on the hillside. My back is raw from the rocks we rolled upon, but he was worth a little pain.”

  “Liar!” shouted Anniellia.

  “It’s you who lie!” returned Senastria.

  “You stupid fisherwoman! Everyone knows you are barren. I will have Reid’s child,” Anniellia announced triumphantly.

  At that insult to her fertility, Senastria slapped Anniellia hard. Anniellia grabbed Senastria’s hair and pulled it. The two women went down, rolling across the pavement of the waterfront market, shrieking insults at each other. A crowd quickly gathered to watch them.

  Janina walked away, tears streaming down her face. No one took any notice of her.

  Those women had had what she wanted from Reid, had been held in his arms and kissed, yet all they could think of to do about it was quarrel. And what of Reid? Had he enjoyed it? Had he found them lovely? She knew he had only done what Tamat commanded him to do, and everyone always obeyed Tamat. She could not blame Reid for what had happened. Still, some part of her wished he had boldly refused, had claimed he would lend himself to no one at all since Janina was forbidden. But if he had done so, he would have been punished. He might even have been set adrift. She would not want that. If Reid was to live, he would have to lend himself to the village women over and over again, and she would have to learn to bear it. She did not think she could.