by Janet Woods
A youth came from out of the ranks and knelt at Kavan’s feet. Golden-haired and green-eyed, he was fair of face and body, and about her own age. “Would you lay down your life for me?” Kavan asked him.
“Aye Lord.” The youth kissed the hem of Kavan’s cloak and there was no fear in his face.
“Then so be it. Take on the Pitilan.”
Atarta growled softly in warning when Javros unsheathed his dagger.
She rushed between them. “Stop! Your trooper is too young to perish.” She prostrated herself in front of him. “I beg you Lord. Do not harm him. Kill me instead.”
One of the more badly wounded troopers groaned and fell forward to his knees. He staggered upright again, retching. His face was waxen.
Lord Kavan’s laughter faded as he stared at her. He was a big man, his appearance agreeable to gaze upon, his features as strong and as hawk-like as the bird he carried on his wrist. Pain was evident in his eyes, and she knew the Pitilan’s venom had begun to work.
“Your death would be as much a waste as that of the one called Javros,” she murmured, “and his family would grieve his loss.”
“The wench has offered her life for yours, Javros. Will you take it?”
“No, Lord. My life is yours and I’ll not barter it willingly. I have taken an oath to die in your service, and that shall hold above all else.”
“I shall not allow you to be the hero yet, though, and to kill the maid would be a waste.”
“Thank you, Lord. I’m sure you’ve taken the wisest course, since you would never hear the last of it from my mother, however large the posthumous medal you awarded her on my behalf,” Javros said agreeably.
The troopers began to laugh again. Kavan held up his hand and the laughter stopped.
Forget your pride, Lord and accept the antidote,” she urged. “There is no honor in this type of death.”
“It’s true that I haven’t fulfilled the task the gods require of me. But why should you care if I live or die when you have declared yourself my enemy?” The words were spoken roughly, but his voice was pleasing in its refinement.
The turbulent blood running through the Cabrilan lord’s veins needed calming for him to accept her reasoning. Her eyes engaged his and she drew on Sybilla’s power. Lowering her voice to a whisper she applied the art of mesmer. “The Truarc are not your enemies, Lord Kavan. Were we not one race before your ancestor invented the device that split the world asunder? With that act, the Cabrilan eradicated nearly all life. That some Truarc survived was a matter of good fortune. We prospered as well as we could.”
“Well spoken, child,” one of the guardians said. “Your stolen hours in the library were put to good use.”
A weary disbelief came into Kavan’s eyes. “My rogue ancestor is long gone, his infamous deed acknowledged by the Cabrilan. Why squabble about something that happened in the past, when with your help it could be undone? Neither you nor I had any hand in it. Should not each generation gather wisdom as we progress from our past, and should we not contemplate the future with a sense of urgency?”
“You speak the truth, Lord,” she conceded a little grudgingly. “But in deed you do not act upon it.”
“If the Truarc elders constantly ignore the petitions for unity I send, what can you expect? My mission is to save the world from destruction and my people from extinction.”
She frowned. “Our people know of no petition. Indeed, we understood that the Cabrilan were extinct and your lands dead from lack of sunlight. Is not the atmosphere poisoned with noxious gas?”
“The gas you refer to is water vapor drawn from the lakes by the sun. Without it we would die, for it nourishes every living thing on Cabrilan.”
“As it does on Truarc.”
He gave a faint smile. “You have very little water. Look around you. You are forced to dig deep wells into the earth to find it. What will happen when it’s all used up? But then, your ignorance is hardly surprising when Truarc men pay little heed to the counsel of anyone. Their prevarication places you in the greatest danger.”
She gazed to where her sire stood, surprising an expression of shame on his face. Was it true that the Truarc men were fully aware of the existence of the Cabrilan? Obviously so.
She turned again to Kavan, and, knowing she must keep him under control sought to calm the fire in his eyes. Pain winced across his face and his breathing quickened. One of his troopers doubled up in pain on the floor and this time he did not rise.
“Lord, the battle with the creature might be one that severely depletes our ranks,” one of his troopers said, and placed a hand on his arm.
Kavan ignored him. “As for your statement that the Cabrilan have eradicated life,” And glancing around at his audience he gave them a pitying smile. “A complete falsehood. I seek to save both tribes from destruction. The Truarc have mismanaged the environment. They have turned the land they inhabit into dust.”
“The land has been dust since I remember,” she said, and then gave an ironic grin because, when all was said and done, that was not very long a span, so it had been a foolish statement to make.
His knowing grin was unsettling, yet she returned it, because somehow she couldn’t help herself.
“Visit Cabrilan with me,” he murmured, “I will show you how beautiful life is there.”
Sybilla had come down from her perch. A warning from her mentor lodged in Tiana’s mind. It is not the time. He has much to learn and so do you.
“I’ll not be tricked into leaving the temple.” She gazed at the other young novices, who like herself were dedicated to the temple of the chaste. Some were held tightly in the arms of their captors and were sobbing quietly in fright. “If you speak the truth, the time has come to put an end to the violence, Lord Kavan. If you are serious in your quest for unity call your troopers off and let us tend to the wounds of the injured.”
When he nodded, and both she and Sybilla stepped towards the High Mother. Without thinking Tiana took up one of her bloodied, twitching hands, and held it against the raw stump. Sybilla did the same with the other. Quickly, they recited a mantra. Power engulfed Tiana and she fell into a dream state.
The High Mother knelt by the side of a bloodied pool, her arms dangling into the water. The mantra was a swell of sound inside her head. The water began to swirl, slowly at first, then faster and faster. It turned from red to pink, then began to clear, the swirling liquid becoming a crystal clear pool. The High Mother lifted her arms above her head. Water cascaded from her arms, washing away the blood.
There was an uproar behind her and Tiana’s head began to throb. She opened her eyes to discover the High Mother gazing unbelievingly down at her restored hands.
“Come,” Sybilla said, “It is done.”
Kavan grasped her by the shoulders and hauled her to her feet. His eyes bore into hers. “How did you do that?”
“I cannot, say . . . I do not know.”
He stared at her. Some expression on her face must have satisfied him for his suspicion gradually cleared. “If you value your life, do the same for my troopers.”
“You understand that I cannot restore the dead one to life.”
He nodded.
“You first then,” she said. “Someone, fetch the green bottle from my herbal chest, the rest of you can bathe and bandage the wounds of the injured.”
His troopers formed a protective, outward facing circle around him when she anointed his arm with a healing salve. He swallowed the foul tasting antidote without grimace or question.
“I’m honored you place your trust in me,” she said, bestowing on his troopers an ironic glance.
“It’s not a matter of trust. I see no difference between dying from Pitilan venom or the venom you ask me to swallow. If I perish you won’t enjoy your fate,” he said, and indicated the bird on his wrist. “She will seek you out. First, she will pluck your eyes from your head; then she will tear strips from your skin until there is nothing left to contain your insides. You
will remain alive until the flesh rots from your bones.”
The bird made a soft trilling sound. Gently he ran a finger over her head. “Hush, little hawk, we will hunt together soon.”
“You will not perish, I promise.”
The same finger tipped her face up, his dark eyes searched over it. “You have the courage of a Cabrilan. What are you named?”
“Tiana, lord.”
“Ah . . .” and he smiled to himself. “The legend is making sense.’ He tugged the bonnet from her head and sucked in a breath when a torrent of silvery hair fell to her waist. “By my beard! Your hair is spun from the breath of the star goddess herself.”
“You attribute too many goddesses to my creation, lord,” she said dryly.
“Why do you cover it?”
“By order of the High Mother. She said it encourages my vanity, and I daresay she is right.” She gazed up at him, an entreaty in her eyes. “I beg you, do not allow your troopers to molest any more of my people. There are so few of us now.”
“And even less Cabrilan.” He brushed the hair away from her face, smiling in a predatory way as he scrutinized her, so fear trickled through her. “You are indeed an unexpected prize. But you are still a child. I shall wait until you’re grown before I claim you.”
She blushed under his regard. “I’m not for the world, Lord. The augur has prophesied I shall spend my life secluded in the temple.”
“That was before the time of the life change. It’s not your destiny now. Your mentor wears the badge of the Grand Alchemist, which suggests you have skills beyond your own understanding. On your life journey you will become mine and bear my children.”
“Because the great Lord Kavan decrees it?” she scathed. “You can take another for yourself.”
“I have claimed you, Tiana.”
“I urge you to seek counsel with my sire, The High One. He will consult the great augur on your behalf, but only if you agree to abide by the augur’s decision.”
Kavan’s smile was ironic as he curved a silvery lock of her hair around his fingers. I’m of a mind to indulge you. What price do you place on peace, daughter of light?”
“Whatever the augur demands of me, savage.” She lowered her eyes from his, pleased her small skill with mesmer had calmed his tempestuous nature.
“Then so be it. Summon your sire from where he skulks, and we shall see what the augur advises.” Laughing now, he threw his arms wide. “Let all bear witness. I Lord Kavan of Cabrilan, swear to abide by the augur’s wisdom. Swear you also, Tiana?”
“I so swear.”
His eyes fixed on The High One. “Your daughter’s courage does her credit. Come, time is short. Let’s us get this farce over with. Consult the augur to determine her fate.”
Her sire was trembling from head to foot, yet he had a strange dignity about him as he shuffled forward. She wanted to scream with frustration when he slowly went through the rituals of opening the fountain of knowledge. For a few seconds nothing happened, then there was a disturbance in the middle of the water and a crystal ball emerged. It began to pulsate with sound, slowly at first, then faster and faster. The High One lifted his arms and a beam of light came down from the roof to hit the crystal. Prisms of light shimmered.
Beside her, Lord Kavan drew in a deep breath. A quick glance showed his eyes were fixed on the crystal. A smile played around his mouth.
Consulted, the augur advised that on the next seven-orbit convergence, Tiana would become the mate of Kavan.
She was horrified and warned Kavan the event would never come about. “Somehow you have manipulated the augur. To become your mate is alien to what was destined for my future. I prefer to believe that version.”
“You called me a savage, yet you seek to dishonor your promise,” he said, turning brooding eyes on her. “If your people want proof of my good intent you must act on the augur’s advice. If you do not, you will discover exactly how savage I can be, for I’ll hunt you down if I have to. You will be mine, Tiana, one way or another.”
He stooped to gather up the body of his trooper, cradling it gently against his body.
His warriors parted as he turned. He swept away, his cloak swirling about him, his unkempt hair and beard flying in the turbulence that swirled at the entrance to the portal.
There was silence after the portal abruptly collapsed into a swirl of dust. Exhaustion flooded through her when the guardians and novices crept towards the High Mother.
“What magic was that?” one of them said in an awed voice.
“A novice may not indulge in magic rites as an aid to healing,” one of the guardians said prissily. “It must have been Sybilla’s doing.”
Air rattled impatiently through Sybilla’s teeth.
Muttering broke out. “The pair of them are in league with Cabrilan. Did the warrior lord not claim Tiana as a mate?”
“She indulges her fantasies and makes them reality. The Cabrilan was a figment of her imagination.”
The High One made his presence felt. “See the blood which was spilled? The Cabrilan troopers were no figment. My daughter, Tiana, is the daughter of a Goddess and part of the destiny of our world. It is written in the water crystal . . . and what the augur has written shall come to pass.”
“Tiana is special,” the High Mother cried out, and held up her arms for all to see. “A follower of the Grand Alchemist has come to claim her, which is a great honor for the temple. Now, let’s get on with the choosing, and let there be feasting and dancing.”
Tiana scowled at Sybilla. “I will not become a mate to the barbarian. I will kill him first, then dance on his burial place.”
Sybilla smiled, and took her hand when the other novices crowded around the augur. “Come child,” she said gently. “You need rest, for tomorrow we journey far.”
* * * *
They started early, before the sun had climbed over the horizon. There was no one to see them off, no one to say goodbye, not even her sire. She was different from the other temple maids, had always been so – how different had become apparent yesterday.
She placed her hand on the leathery ridge at Atarta’s neck and gazed up at Cabrilan. The planet had turned, and was heading on its outward orbit. It looked dark and mysterious, like the lord who had laid claim to her.
She wondered then, was Kavan still thinking of her?
Chapter Two
The wilderness was not without stress for Tiana, but the stress was balanced by happiness. Lying awake and gazing up at the stars was a pleasure in itself. She had learned to name them all.
The furthest, which was revealed as a mere dot on the outer edge of the sight-scan was called Assinti. The image disappeared when gazed at directly. “It appears inside the sub-state to remind us that higher attainment is possible,” Sybilla had told her.
Assinti was a haven for spirits, a place in which to rest when the body was too worn or damaged to contain the joyful essence.
Tiana traced an arc across the night sky with her finger and stopped on a sullen, red star. Bane – the planet of dark thoughts. It was said that the God Beltane had been banished there, and he’d fallen into a deep and long-lasting sleep. When he woke, his mind was so heavy with depression he could no longer move so he laid on his back, belching flame and black smoke from his mouth in a quest to relieve his suffering.
Tiana knew the tales of all the stars, for Sybilla was a storyteller of some stature. Over the past few seasons she’d learned a lot from her – how to harness her healing powers, to control her thoughts, and most of all, how to apply the gifts she’d been born with wisely and discreetly.
“There are those who would use you for their own ends if they knew,” Sybilla had told her when she’d finally handed Tiana the prize she’d worked for – a plain, brown robe with the coveted Grand Alchemist badge attached. Her smile had been mischievous. “You must trust your own intuition in the future, Tiana . . . and try to curb your temper and your stubbornness.”
Tiana felt a qu
iver of alarm. “You’re not leaving me, mother mentor?”
“Not now, but eventually my spirit will seek to rest before my body is reborn. Others will have need my guidance in the future.”
Cabrilan swung into her view. Dark and mysterious, the planet grew steadily closer each sunset, reminding her of the warrior lord who would claim her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, banishing him from her thoughts.
The desert flowers drugged the air with their perfume. They would die as soon as the sun touched their petals. At night they provided sustenance for the gibber monkeys and rock goats, which in turn became food for her Pitilan. He was out hunting now, his skin lustrous with the increased blood in his diet.
At first, Atarta’s blood lust had made her feel sick, but now she was used to it. She’d learned that everything preyed on everything else in the wilderness. If they didn’t they perished from hunger, for there was no scientifically produced food outside the city.
She and Sybilla existed on dried fish, grain, nuts and fruit, which they exchanged for stories and healing. They ate frugally, mindful of the hardships of the wilderness, yet Tiana thrived on the sparse fare.
Sometimes she supplemented their diet with a rich delicacy, read about and remembered from her forays into the temple library. As long as they stayed within the image they could taste the treat, and their hunger was satisfied. When they came back to reality so did their stomachs, the treats as illusionary as the feelings of fullness they evoked.
Tiana drew a scarf across her face, for the perfume of the flowers drugged the senses of the unwary with a delightful euphoria making what was wrong seem right, and what was right seem foolish.
Sybilla was asleep, her head cushioned in her hands. They’d rise at dawn and meditate. Then they’d eat breakfast, usually a meal made with grain and mixed with the milk of a rock goat, if they’d managed to catch one and tether it. There were cactus apples too. They were small, hard and prickly, but nutritious.
