by Janet Woods
Day arrived to chill her to the bone. Her stomach ached with hunger. She yawned and stretched, and then remembered the pool. She formed her hands into a scoop and drank deeply of the water to refresh her mouth and fill the emptiness in her stomach.
The terrain displayed a strange beauty. Behind her, a stream of water gushed over pebbles and through a meadow ringed by forest. Below, and beyond the lake and manor was a fine town. Beyond that, fields, then more forest and then towering, mountain crests. Cabrilan seemed to go on into a purple haze of forever.
Her delight in her surrounds didn’t assuage her hunger. She ventured into the meadow, and as was her habit gathered herbs as she went. They grew in abundance here, coriander, myrrh and rosemary for their antiseptic properties, balm and catnip for digestion, passionflower to sedate the senses, ginseng root to achieve the opposite effect. She tied long strands of grass around the herbal bunches and hung them from the branches of a shrub to dry.
Watercress grew wild along the bank of the stream. Pulling handfuls of it up she crammed it in her mouth, munching on the peppery leaves until she was full. A beam of sunlight touched on the stream, sending a finger of fire along its length. She sank to her knees and turned her palms towards the light, calming her spirit in order to receive the day’s blessing.
“My lady.”
The softly spoken words didn’t penetrate until it was followed by Atarta’s warning growl. Startled, Tiana sprang to her feet to gaze wildly around her. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw a woman. Of regal bearing, a silver diadem kept a dark veil in place so Tiana couldn’t clearly see her face. “Come no closer if you value your life. Who are you?”
“You do not need to fear me. I am here as an emissary from Lord Kavan.” The woman placed a folded garment on the ground and set a carved box upon it. “He has charged me to present you with his cloak for warmth, and this gift.”
“What is your name, woman?”
Resentment filled the space between them. “Rowena.”
“And your function in Lord Kavan’s manor?”
“I am his mother.”
If anything, the resentment grew stronger. The woman was not very good at masking her feelings, but considering her position perhaps she’d never had to. Tiana bowed her head as a sign of respect. “You are most welcome, Rowena. What gift does Lord Kavan send?”
“A wishing dish.”
“Why does your son not bring it himself?”
Rowena threw her veil back, revealing a face as cold and unfriendly as stone, a mouth pursed in disapproval. “He is angered by your rejection and your disregard of his wishes regarding the Pitilan. He cannot trust himself to be impartial at this time.” Her voice began to fade, her shadow blended with the forest. “Kavan honors you greatly, girl. You need only to look on the bowl’s surface and whatever you desire will be yours.”
When Rowena’s image faded away, Tiana experienced loneliness, despite the other woman’s obvious unfriendliness. Her heart ached for Sybilla as she turned to Atarta. “Check what has been offered.”
The beast’s snout probed the depth of the cloak, And then flipped the lid from the box.
“It’s exquisite,” she breathed when colors writhed like mist from a clear crystal set into the middle of the bowl’s silver surface.
After sniffing at the offerings for a few moments, Atarta made a mewing sound, indicating there was no danger evident.
She shook out the cloak Lord Kavan had sent. It floated upon the sweet air like gossamer before settling around her shoulders. She delighted in its softness. The fine fabric was colored the dusky purple of night and her hair lay against its folds like strands of moonlight. She’d expected the Cabrilan lord’s odor to be sour, but the fragrance lingering about the garment’s folds were pleasing – balm, sandalwood and a piquant undertone unfamiliar to her.
Comforted by the cloak’s warm embrace she carried the bowl back to her vantage place and set it on a rock to examine it better. Precious gems shimmered with ethereal light beneath the silver surface. She smiled with awed delight.
“These must be the gems spoken of in the legend told to me by Sybilla,” she said to the uninterested Atarta. “Endowed with the alchemist’s mystic power, they were said to have been created from rare minerals in the time before time. He who possesses them will rule with wisdom.”
She slanted her head to one side. Lost in the beauty of the gems, she murmured. “It was said they were lost when the world split asunder, and were swallowed up by the earth.”
The result had been thousands of years of chaotic darkness as each tribe had culled the other from their domain, she thought.
The library records she’d secretly studied had revealed that the Truarc had been the more civilized and intellectual of the tribes, creating the efficient Pitilan to seek out and cull the Cabrilan remaining on Truarc. From time to time it crossed her mind that the Truarc council might have feared the might of the warrior lords, and knowing they’d be defeated in combat they had taken the coward’s way out. She’d grown up believing the Cabrilan to be extinct and wondered what else had been kept concealed by the Truarc elders.
Tiana was a little disappointed that the augur had deemed Lord Kavan worthy to have such power as the gemstones offered. Surely The High One would be a more suitable protector.
Her senses swam as she gazed at the bowl’s splendor. Placing such power in her hands was indeed a high honor. “I would wish to thank Lord Kavan for such a gift.”
“Your thanks are appreciated, daughter of light.”
She shrank back when Kavan’s figure appeared in a void above the lake.
“You need not fear. I’m without substance.”
She breathed a sigh of relief for Kavan’s powerful presence disturbed her. He was clad in loose black breeches, his waist cinched with silver buckled leather. Boots of fine black leather clung to his calves. His tunic was woven in a soft, purple colored fabric, identical to the cloak she wore. Edged in silver it clung to his broad chest. The hilt of the silver dagger shoved casually into his belt was studded with gems and shone with a powerful radiance. Awed by the change in him Tiana averted her eyes from his magnificence.
“You have changed also, little Tiana. You are no longer a child. Come, you are not without courage. Raise your eyes to mine and tell me why you fled.”
Her eyes widened with surprise when they touched upon Lord Kavan’s face. The unkempt beard had gone, revealing a countenance of strength and beauty. “You are more pleasing to look upon than I remember,” she blurted out.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “And I have more vanity than I thought I possessed, for your soft words please me. You gaze through the eyes of a woman now and your scornful, childish words touched a raw nerve.” His mouth parted in a smile as he stroked his naked chin. Both were well shaped and firm. “You are just as beautiful as I remember, lady.”
She experienced only a hint of stirring against her scalp when he reached out to touch her hair, yet the nape of her neck reacted with exquisite pleasure.
“Why did you run from me?” he asked again.
“My intention was not to anger you, Lord. I had no say in the matter of our union nor the means of bringing me to Cabrilan. You are a stranger to me, and I’m apprehensive of being forced to submit to your will.”
“I understand your fear and will make allowances for your reticence. You had only to ask.”
“Thank you, Lord. I had not thought you would indulge me.”
Her sarcasm seemed to escape him for his mouth assumed a wry curve. “Consider it done. I’m not entirely without sensitivity. The mysticism of the gods resides in my genes, and is strengthened by those of the alchemist and the Cabrilan will.”
He looked so proud of himself she couldn’t help but mock. “You have certainly been endowed with a considerable amount of self-esteem, Lord Kavan.”
A frown cut through his pride. “Take care. The god Arcus is my sire. He shapes my very thoughts and shows me the w
ay forward.”
Did he imagine Arcus more powerful than the combination of her own mother, the Goddess Lynx and The High One? “And what way is that, savage?” Losing her fear she stood at the edge of the chasm, a sweep of her hand indicating the fall. “If you seek to crush me as the water does the rock below, you will find me just as resilient.”
He gave a great, booming laugh. “The rock succumbs to the water in time, wearing away until it becomes sand. When the rock softens the water does as it will with it. I can achieve the same effect faster.” His image began to shimmer and change. “I will not wait as long as the water for the rock. You have made a pact with me, Tiana. I’m here to tell you that you have seven dawns in which to keep it. By that time the rock will be as sand to your vision.”
“And if I do not come to you?” she called as the illusion began to clear.
“If I’m forced to fetch you, I promise . . . you will not enjoy the outcome.”
Her fingers slid to the Pitilan beside her. “Neither will you, Lord,” she murmured in defiant scorn.
* * * *
There was a great deal of tension in the manor of Kavan. Some considered their lord was being too lenient with the Truarc maid.
“She is surely laughing at you,” one of his advisors said. “You do her great honor taking her to wife. If the girl was Cabrilan she’d be flogged for refusing your will.”
Kavan glowered at the man. “Tiana is not Cabrilan. She was raised to be pure in mind and body therefore she can’t give one without the other. First, I must win her heart, only then will she come willingly to the marriage bed.”
“Her beauty has addled your brain,” the man murmured. “You should enjoy many a woman before you grow old.”
“I have, and I grow weary of the game.” He rose, stretching his powerful body with an unconscious, cat-like grace. “My union with Tiana is destined by the gods. Our women are becoming increasingly barren. The majority of the young being born have defects and die shortly after birthing. This is due to inbreeding. Only the young of those with Truarc blood show strength and promise. We need the Truarc women if we’re to survive.”
“Then continue to kill the men and take the Truarc females. It’s worked thus far.”
“Too many of them are shamed and take their own lives. They must come willingly and peacefully. Besides, I have a theory that what works one way will work in another. It may be that the Truarc seed is compatible with Cabrilan women?”
A gasp went through the company.
“I’ll beat the life from any Cabrilan women who lies with a Truarc,” someone cried out.
“That will achieve nothing. “Kavan paced up and down the great hall. “The Cabrilan women have a right to bear healthy young, if that is their wish. Once I’ve repaired the rift and the planet is one again, the Truarc and Cabrilan must live as one tribe.”
“They have ruined the land they had, must they do the same to Cabrilan land?”
“They are teachers, mystics, scientists and artisans. We are farmers, hunters and soldiers. We can learn from each other and the mixed offspring will be strengthened in mind and body.”
“And what of your offspring, Lord Kavan?”
Kavan stopped pacing long enough to smile. “The destiny of my firstborn son is greatness.”
Someone laughed. “You’ve spent too much time in your dreaming chamber. Does Tiana know her firstborn will be a god?”
“Not yet. First I must woo her and win her.”
“That should not be too hard,” Rowena said, the malice in her voice sending heads turning her way. “The Truarc girl’s eyes gleamed with avarice when she set sight on your gift. You’ve put too much power in her hands and she will bring about your downfall with it.”
The spite in his mother’s voice caused Kavan’s eyelids to hood over. He’d watched the presentation of his gift, observed the respect Tiana paid his mother. He’d not expected opposition in public from Rowena and he didn’t intend to allow her to meddle in his business. “Tiana does not deserve your condemnation. She did not want to be here.”
Rowena masked her eyes. “You should send the girl home to her father.”
“She only just survived the forces of the portal, I have no urge to risk her life again. Besides, the Truarc High One would be so insulted there would be no chance of reconciliation. Think on. They would breed enough of those abominable Pitilans to wipe out the entire Cabrilan race.”
A sword was unsheathed and held aloft to gleam in a shaft of sunlight. “The cowardly Truarc should learn to fight like men.”
Kavan sighed. “They have not had the nourishment or training to achieve the required stamina. They’re a peace loving people who rely on the intellectual to amuse themselves. It is we who must learn their ways and customs.”
“How?”
“Now I have opened a route to discussion and reconciliation I will send an emissary through the portal to consult with The High One. Rowena, come forward.”
Someone scorned. “She is a woman, and lacks the wisdom to negotiate. Send a man with diplomacy and presence, instead.”
“You who speaks ill of my care giver, step forward.”
There was an uneasy silence as Kavan gazed furiously about him. “Well, speak up,” he snarled. “He who has the courage to defy my will can challenge me as lord.” His glance came to rest on Javros.
Javros was a young man of much skill and grace, the son of Kavan’s chief advisor and the result of a successful coupling with a Truarc woman. He was cool-headed, courageous, and known for his charm and wit. Javros would be the first to admit he’d been spoiled by his mother’s absolute pride and admiration of him. Kavan had made plans for his advancement once he reached a degree of maturity.
Javros gave a guilty sigh. “I confess . . . it was I.”
“You wish to challenge my will on this?”
“Not by right of arms,” Javros murmured. “I’m not so foolish as I appear at this moment.”
A murmur of laughter rippled through the crowd. Encouraged, Javros bowed. “My words were spoken in haste. I apologize, my Lord Kavan. Punish me as you see fit, but not too hard. I wish to live long enough to see the results of your experiment – if it succeeds.”
Javros is over-confident, Kavan thought. Yet his popularity is such that too harsh a penalty will cause discontent. The old lord - Rowena’s husband - would have taken his life for such impudence. Kavan reminded himself that he was not cast in his stepfather’s mould. His blood was infused with the genes of the alchemist and the God, Arcus.
He had an insight and power his people only dreamed of, and much was still untapped. He would unite the world both physically and spiritually, and his union with Tiana would provide him with a son whose line would spread to the known universe and last forever.
Kavan knew well how to meet this challenge from Javros. The punishment would equal the crime. He exchanged an amused smile with Torma, his friend and most trusted brother-at-arms whilst Javros postured for the crowd. “I have decided to take your advice, Javros.”
A smug smile appeared on the young man’s face. He was too sure of himself, Kavan thought. “I shall send you as emissary to Truarc instead. You will practice diplomacy with The High One, and learn the art of seduction. You’re untried with women, I believe. Once you have mastered the technique of attraction you may return with a Truarc bride – but only if she accepts you willingly.”
“But, Lord . . .” Javros protested, his face turning red with embarrassment as the rest of the gathering began to laugh. “I was about to be initiated into manhood in the temple of pleasure.”
“That you will forgo unless you’d rather I took your sight instead. Present yourself to The High One, explain your mission to him and beg him to take you under his wing and teach you some manners. Reassure him that his daughter, Tiana, will not be badly treated. She shall remain untouched, and shall return to him in seven dawns if she so desires.” With Torma in tow he strode off towards the door, regretting his hast
ily spoken words.
“But, Sire,” someone called after him. “We will all be doomed if that happens. Tiana is chosen to make us strong.”
“So be it,” he called over his shoulder, knowing it would be a sign of weakness if he took his statement back – though he was certain he wouldn't have to send her home. “If the Cabrilan are to change I must set an example. Tiana must come to me willingly, or not at all. The choice is hers.”
“Is it, Lord?” Torma grunted at his shoulder.
Kavan grinned at him. “If I give the maid her head it will seem that way to her.”
He was counting on her to remember her duty as he left the assembly behind. She believed in the augur. What she didn’t know was the augur was controlled by his own mind, as the alchemist had once controlled it. He wondered if she’d encountered the alchemist’s spirit yet. The last time someone had disturbed him he’d altered the course of the water and flooded the village.
A vision of her anxious emerald eyes and long silvery hair stole into his thoughts and his mouth curved into a smile. He’d experienced conflicting emotions as soon as he’d set eyes on her. She was destined to be his lady. He was convinced of it, despite the counsel of his mother.
Tiana had recognized the undeniable awareness between them too. He’d seen it in her eyes. Yes, she was denying it to herself now, refusing to admit to the inevitable. Her early temple training had taught her to ignore the call of the flesh. It would be easy to take her but he’d seen too many Truarc maids die from rough treatment. Those who survived capture and settled down were those treated gently, like the mother of Javros. Truarc women made caring mothers.
Leaving Torma to guard his door he strode on to the battlements and gazed up at the High Place. Tiana’s sleep would be uneasy. The forest beyond the sanctuary was full of night creatures and their gibbering would disturb her sleep. Soon, the moon would move to the other side of the planet and she’d lose its light. All she would have for company then were the stars above her and the spirit of the alchemist, whose body was preserved in a crystal tomb behind the fall.
