The Skies of Mahdis

by Rayne Forrest

  Eight days. Surely if Q'winn knew he'd have come for her.

  The thought that S'ydd had not lived up to his word nagged at her. She'd asked each new woman if they were his wife. All had denied it.

  The woman who brought her breakfast had also brought a crock of medicinal tea. She instructed Trista to drink all of it. It tasted horrible after it had cooled, but Trista had obeyed. The way her chest ached frightened her.

  She paced the cell restlessly and tried to shake the feeling that if she were to lie down, she'd never get back up. Panic and fever made her heart flutter in her chest. She was increasingly thirsty.

  She sank down on the pallet and curled into a tight ball. She'd refused to think of her parents, her brother, her friends. Now she was going to die and they'd never know it. They'd always be looking for her. She started to weep in sickness and desperation.

  * * * *

  Q'winn looked at his brother in disbelief.

  "What do you mean she is gone?” Q'winn's voice was a whip.

  "She is gone. I've been sending messages to you for days. I've even slept in the lower hall. They would not let me in,” W'eylin told him. He had finally resorted to violence and broken down the door.

  W'eylin understood that the higher-ranking avakis were cloistered making their spiritual preparations for the Feast of Ceca. He also knew what his father had told him about his avaki brother's interest in the alien female.

  W'eylin could put two and two together. His father had chosen his brother's path for him. A'rtenn had not been pleased to sire a jayalor, especially after three jaynard sons. He had hidden the truth about Q'winn by forcing his son into the priesthood. If Q'winn were safely ensconced as avaki, he'd not be able to be involved with females and the secret would be safe.

  But Q'winn proved more than anyone could have expected. He accepted his place as an avaki initiate, then quickly signed on to travel as an acolyte on a ship. He'd gone to space.

  That ship had met with disaster and the avaki had been killed. Novice or not, Q'winn had fulfilled the role for two years while the ship limped home. Once word of how well he had performed the avaki duties, and more, got to the right ears, he'd been given full status. He then seized the power that gave him to get command of a ship, the Anakin.

  When Vanteen found W'eylin and told him of Trista's disappearance, W'eylin had questioned Vanteen and learned more of Q'winn's interest in Trista. Vanteen assured him she had told Trista of the border markers and not to go beyond them. He ordered a thorough search of the keep and surrounding area.

  When S'ydd's message arrived an hour ago, W'eylin broke down door to the avaki's private compound. It was sacrilege, but it was necessary. The Cael had brought the female here. They were responsible for her safety.

  "Q'winn, I received a message, not more than an hour ago. The Santonna have her. We found evidence they crossed well inside our border. She's imprisoned. They say she killed H'ammarr. Y'emar has taken power. He didn't put her to death because Trista was defending herself. Her honor.” W'eylin watched closely to see Q'winn's reaction.

  There was none. Q'winn remained cold, in control, his face a giving nothing away.

  "Gather the troop. We ride immediately."

  "We?"

  "We. I will go."

  The hair on the back of W'eylin's neck rose. It was unheard of for an avaki to become uncloistered in the middle of preparations for the Feast of Ceca. But he was not the one to argue with his brother.

  "Very well, brother. In less than thirty minutes, we'll be outside,” W'eylin told Q'winn.

  "W'eylin."

  W'eylin turned and looked at Q'winn.

  "Bring my weapons."

  * * * *

  Hands pulled at Trista and shook her awake. She tried to open her eyes but the world was spinning. She tried to take a breath to speak and ended up coughing.

  "Come. Hurry. The Cael are here for you."

  "What Cael?” Trista managed to ask.

  "Q'winn H'akan. He has many men, many troops. He threatens to level the village if we do not hand you over.” The woman shook her again. “Wake. We must go."

  Trista was wracked by another coughing fit. She tried to sit but the effort exhausted her. She couldn't get enough air to move.

  "She hasn't the strength,” said a voice from the doorway. “Stay with her. I will go and tell the Cael she is ill."

  "Don't be a fool!” the woman sitting with Trista exclaimed. “Come and help me with her!"

  They argued for a few moments but Trista was too tired to listen. She had to get up. Q'winn had come for her. She had to get to him. She lurched to her feet and staggered to the door before the coughing overcame her again. The two women supported her until she stopped.

  "We can hand her to him, but if she dies, he'll return,” said the one.

  "We can be gone before then, sister,” replied the other. “I've wanted to leave here for a long time."

  "And go where?"

  "Does it matter?"

  Trista giggled hysterically at them and they looked over her head at each other. They had to get her up the stairs and to the Cael and they had to do it now.

  "Lift your feet and climb or we will drag you,” the one threatened. Trista dutifully climbed.

  Each step was one closer to sunlight and to Q'winn. Her chest ached. She was dying, she just knew she was. He had to take her home now. He couldn't argue now.

  By the time they'd reached the top, Trista was gasping for each breath. The two women knew they had to get help. One scurried away and one stayed. Trista did not look to see which had gone. Breathing was the only thing she could concentrate on.

  Trista felt herself suddenly lifted off her feet. She swung her free arm wildly.

  "I have you. I'm W'eylin. Remember me? The tower guard,” he said softly. Trista nodded and closed her eyes.

  W'eylin was appalled at her gray color. Her chest rattled with each tortured breath. They'd brought an extra mount for her but it was obvious she was unable to ride. She needed an herbalist, not a ride through the storm that was threatening to blow up from the valley. He carried her to the courtyard where Q'winn stood calmly daring Y'emar to make any sort of move.

  "Kaden, she is very ill,” he said to Q'winn.

  Q'winn did not turn and look. He kept his eyes on Y'emar.

  "Call your herbalist. Your best herbalist. If this female dies, so do you,” Q'winn promised calmly.

  "This is hardly my fault,” Y'emar replied just as calmly. “She wandered into our lands and killed my brother."

  "Your brother was a rapist. Sioda will deal with him. And the female did not cross the border. We found where the Santonna crossed into Mahdis. I will deal with your trespass."

  "I instructed the women to look after her."

  "Of course you did. And you never looked for yourself. Pray, Y'emar. Pray that she lives."

  "You give me much credit, Avaki Q'winn, that the decision for her life is in my hands."

  Reminding Q'winn he was an avaki was a mistake. He didn't feel like a peaceful servant of Sioda at this moment. The need to turn and look after Trista himself kept swelling inside him. He pushed it down but it rose again.

  Q'winn slowly drew his sword. The steel whispered of death as it came from its scabbard. Q'winn rested the point against Y'emar's chest.

  "You do not understand,” Q'winn said coldly. “But I am willing to explain."

  Y'emar started to raise his arm. Q'winn leaned into the blade.

  "Call your archers,” he said, then smiled coldly. “It may be of interest to you to see if you still have them."

  Y'emar swallowed and backed up a step. He gestured toward the two women hovering over Trista.

  "They are my best herbalists. They will accompany you on the trail to look after the girl."

  Q'winn did not take his eyes from Y'emar.

  "W'eylin. Can she travel?” Q'winn asked.

  "Someone will have to carry her,” came the reply.

  "Give her to
me,” Q'winn ordered. He sheathed his sword, confident that other eyes watched Y'emar for treachery. With his sword sheathed, if Y'emar so much as twitched, those watchful others would react with deadly swiftness.

  Q'winn quickly swung up onto his bogga, placing it between Y'emar and Trista. W'eylin lifted Trista up to him.

  "If you could get a lander-craft down from the Anakin, we could be at Mahdis Keep in an hour,” W'eylin suggested.

  "I can't risk a lander-craft on this side of the mountain, even for her,” Q'winn replied. “Not yet, anyway. If she worsens, I will reconsider."

  W'eylin settled a blanket over Trista. Q'winn tucked it under his thigh to hold it in place. He left his sword arm free. Home was a long ride away. He turned to the herbalist.

  "Do you have anything for her now?” he asked.

  The woman dug in her pack and came up with a small bottle. She pulled the cork and poured some of the liquid on a cloth and handed it to Q'winn.

  "Hold this where she can breathe in the vapor. It may help, it may not. She is not Dannarri, I'm told."

  "No, she is not,” Q'winn answered grimly. “I thank you, regardless."

  He urged his mount to a walk. His men parted and let him through, then one by one they fell in behind him. He trusted W'eylin to take care of his back.

  He settled Trista more comfortably in his arms and tucked the herbal-soaked cloth into a fold of the blanket. He inhaled a bit of the vapor and felt his sinuses abruptly dry. He prayed it would have the same effect on Trista.

  After about thirty minutes he thought her breathing was easier. W'eylin joined him at the front of the line and Q'winn asked him to pour a cup of water for her. W'eylin handed him the trail cup and Q'winn held it to her lips. She took it a sip at a time, but eventually Q'winn managed to get the whole amount into her. W'eylin watched with equal portions of curiosity and concern.

  Q'winn noted his brother's watchfulness. That was fine. He could watch all he wanted. Q'winn did not owe explanations unless and until the Elders called for one. He bowed his lips to Trista's ear and began talking to her.

  He told her of the mountains during the heart of winter. How the snow blanketed the passes and the air was so crisp and clean it made a man dizzy. He told her of the mountain streams and waterfall, of mountain meadows and glens. He told her of all the places he would show her this season, before he had to take her home.

  All the while, Trista lay quietly in his arms, unmoving, her breathing still difficult.

  Q'winn had never before held a female. Even in his concern for her he was aware of the swell of her breast and the roundness of her hips. Everything about having her in his arms felt right.

  Be careful what you asked of the goddess, he'd always been told. The Elders were no doubt right. He'd asked for a sign that what he believed was true, that Trista was Sioda's gift to him.

  He had received it. Trista, sick as she was, lay in his embrace.

  He wanted to urge the mounts to a faster pace but knew it was folly in the dark. The storm had settled below them, but the air had grown heavy with moisture. The unaccustomed humidity didn't help the boggas either. The bogga were sure-footed, strong and hardy, but even they could misstep when tired. And they were tired. He could feel the weariness of his beast.

  It was nearing dawn when the darkness of Mahdis Keep loomed against the sky. W'eylin called a rider and sent him ahead to find the most experienced herbalist in the keep, and have her taken to Q'winn's rooms to wait for her patient.

  The world was pale gray when they rode through the main gate. Only a few people were already about their business. They stopped and watched as Q'winn rode past them. He seemed not to take notice of them. He gave the verbal command to halt to his bogga. The animal stopped and hung its head, weary. Vanteen appeared, seemingly out of the mist, and stood shifting from one foot to the other and making nervous hand movements.

  Several novices were lurking about and one flew off to alert the Elders that Q'winn had returned. Q'winn noted it with an unease he refused to show. W'eylin steadied his bogga while Q'winn dismounted with Trista still in his arms. He carried her up the stairs and to his personal rooms. To his relief, Vanteen followed.

  Handing her over to the care of the herbalists was one of the most difficult things Q'winn had ever done.

  Q'winn instructed them he was to be informed immediately if there were any change in Trista's condition. He grabbed the remaining novice by the scruff of the neck and told the boy he was to remain outside the door until he said differently. The only time he could leave his post was to carry a message to Q'winn.

  The boy was wide-eyed with fear and very agreeable.

  Q'winn set himself to deal with the Elders.

  * * * *

  The herbalists bathed Trista and tucked the blankets in around her. They forced bitter tea into her, patiently talking to her when she fought them. Vanteen tried to speak to Trista in her own language but she became agitated. Vanteen quit talking and sang to her.

  Trista slept fitfully. When she woke, more tea was poured down her protesting throat. She thought it was day. Then she opened her eyes to find it dark. But that was wrong, too. The sun was spilling across the floor. She was so confused. Sleep was the only thing that felt right.

  Every time she asked for water, they poured that awful tea down her throat. Finally, she slept more peacefully.

  Trista woke in a room lit by candles. Her back ached dully and she rolled over to find Vanteen sitting on the floor beside the couch with her head lying beside Trista's pillow.

  Trista reached out and touched her hair. Vanteen's head snapped up. She smiled at Trista.

  "How cough?” she asked quietly.

  Trista was immediately seized by a coughing fit. “Thanks for making me think of it,” she wheezed. “Where am I?"

  "Mahdis Keep. Sleep in Q'winn's room. His couch."

  "Thank you,” Trista murmured to any god listening. She was back in Mahdis and its relative safety. “Where is Q'winn?"

  "At duties. You rest. I send message you talk now."

  "No! If he's busy, that's good. I'm so tired. I just want to go back to sleep."

  "Drink first.” Vanteen held up a cup of the noxious tea and glared until Trista had downed the last drop.

  "You luk-ee. Q'winn value Trista. Broke vows get you."

  "What do you mean?” Trista asked her.

  "Sleep now. New day soon. Sky pink. You sleep."

  Trista knew there was no use arguing with Vanteen at this point. And besides, she didn't have the energy. She rolled over and faced the wall.

  She was almost asleep when she heard Vanteen singing softly. It was the ballad about Conar. It made her want to smile. She slipped back into sleep and dreamed of a strong, virile lover that looked like Q'winn.

  Seven

  "This is folly."

  "I do not care."

  Q'winn stood in his brother's rooms, shirtless, using his brother's razor. W'eylin had watched silently as Q'winn had bathed. But now Q'winn was shaving and Q'winn hated to shave.

  At least he'd look his best when he embraced trouble.

  "You cannot go to her,” W'eylin said for the umpteenth time.

  "I will go to her,” Q'winn replied for the same number of times.

  "The Elders are concerned about your interest in her. Keep this up and they will forbid you to even see her."

  "I am responsible for her being here. Let the Elders howl."

  "They will disrobe you!"

  "I have stepped down. Even as we speak they are reading my letter."

  W'eylin stared at Q'winn in shock. “You are not serious! You cannot simply walk away from the Order."

  "I have done so."

  "You seek to force their hand? Q'winn! Look at me!” W'eylin demanded.

  Q'winn splashed his face and reached for the towel before he turned to face W'eylin. He understood his brother's concern. W'eylin did not deal with the Elders on a personal level and did not know their politics.

/>   "Call it a pre-emptive strike if you like,” he said calmly.

  "Meaning?"

  "They seek to control, W'eylin, and I have always been beyond them. It rankles them. They want to win. They want to best me. They will deny me permission to leave the Order."

  "You want to remain avaki?” W'eylin asked.

  Q'winn sighed. “In truth, it does not matter.” He could see W'eylin wrestling with that bit of information.

  "So you give them what they want and they will no longer want it? No wonder the Elders confuse us,” W'eylin said disgustedly.

  That brought a quick smile to Q'winn's face. “And you said you couldn't figure them out.” He squeezed W'eylin's shoulder. “Trust that it will be as it should. If they do, in fact, disrobe me, I am still a kaden. I will still have the Anakin. Perhaps Sioda is calling me to something else. All I can do is take each day as it comes."

  Q'winn pulled on a green tunic made of fabric woven from the softest drost hair. He ran his fingers through his unruly dark hair.

  "I have been waiting for nine days. I will wait no longer. I am going to visit Trista. Are you coming?"

  W'eylin shook his head. “No,” he said. He rose and faced Q'winn. “Be careful, Q'winn. Remember what you are."

  "I never forget it."

  * * * *

  Trista moaned her way through her morning bath. When Vanteen insisted on washing her hair, Trista turned uncooperative. Every muscle in her body hurt. All she wanted to do was sleep.

  Then, to add insult to injury, Vanteen produced a long, flowing garment and forcibly dressed Trista in it. Once she was in it though, Trista admitted it was wonderfully soft and warm. To make up for it all, Vanteen brought Trista a pastry stuffed with meat and gravy. Trista had caught the aroma instantly and perked up. For the first time since her ill-fated stroll she felt hungry.

  Trista was propped up on the couch with all the available pillows, nibbling at the pastry and sipping a sweet tea that did not have any medicinal properties, when there was a knock on the door. She was instantly suspicious as she watched Vanteen smile and scurry to the door. It was Q'winn.

  Vanteen stepped aside to allow him to enter, then hastily exited. Q'winn closed the door and walked to the center of the room. Trista watched him as he looked her over.