Flight to Savage Empire se-4

by Jean Lorrah

  The day of the benefit in the gladiatorial arena was announced. Zanos’ match against his mysterious opponent would be the main event of the day. Two days before, Astra visited him, hoping it would not be for the last time.

  “Don’t worry,” he told her with a smile. “I’ll win. I know what I’m doing, Astra.”

  “All the same, I’ve heard about this Mallen,” Astra said. “He’s traveled all around the empire, taking any combat challenge. He’s undefeated.”

  “So am I,” he reminded her, “and I’ve got much more experience than he has. Don’t worry about me. Tell you what-as soon as the victory parties are over, we’ll have that music party I promised you. You’ll like my musician friends, I think. “

  But Astra couldn’t turn to another subject. She found it hard to look at him as she said, “Would it offend you if I told you I pray every day for your victory?”

  “No,” he said gently, “and I thank you for it. I know you won’t be watching or Reading the match, but keep your ears open that day-my victory cry will be louder than the applause of the entire stadium!”

  Astra tried to smile encouragement, despite her apprehension. Two days… I wonder what I’ll be doing then-besides worrying about you?

  “In two days,” Portia informed her, “you will be the bride’s attendant at a wedding-Tressa’s.”

  Astra, already startled at finding the Master of Masters waiting up for her, went numb with shock.

  When she did not answer, Portia continued, “For some time now, I have had grave doubts about Tressa’s competency as a Reader. After investigating, we have decided that she is not truly skilled enough for the upper ranks; those who tested her for Magister must have been mistaken. It can happen that several Masters are not at their best on one particular day. After all, even Readers are only human. “

  Astra knew, almost without thinking it, that her assignment as Tressa’s attendant was another punishment duty-or perhaps a warning. She wasn’t Tressa’s friend; like Astra, Tressa had no real friends at the Academy. On the other hand, it was possible that Portia had chosen Astra for this task because she truly was the person who knew Tressa best.

  “As you wisn, Master Portia, ‘ Astra said carefully. “Has Tressa been informed?”

  “About an hour ago. I have been waiting for you since. You have spent much time outside the Academy recently, Astra. Please advise me of such excursions in the future-with the impending war, it is necessary that I be able to contact all my Readers at a moment’s notice.”

  “Yes, Master Portia,” replied Astra with all the humility she could muster. Her heart was pounding, and it took all her control not to broadcast her anxiety.

  Portia dismissed her, and Astra fled down the corridor and across the courtyard to the dormitory, letting her Reading open wide.

  Tressa was sitting on the side of her bed, closed to Reading. Astra knocked at her door, then opened it without waiting for a reply. Lamplight glittered off the blade of the knife in Tressa’s hand. She stared at it with rapt attention, as though the weapon were a holy object.

  “You know?” Tressa asked flatly.

  “Portia told me,” Astra said, trying to catch her breath, not knowing what to say.

  The fierceness was gone from Tressa’s eyes as she looked up at Astra. With frightening calm, she said,

  “Why didn’t you help me when I asked?”

  Because 1 feared to end up as you have-or worse.

  “Because… I am a coward,” Astra said simply, without apology or regret. “I was afraid. I still am.”

  “Yet you didn’t report me. Perhaps I should be grateful-but you’re trying to avoid commitment, Astra, either for Portia or against her. How long do you think she will allow that?”

  Tressa looked down at the knife again, hefting it-then suddenly threw it at the far wall. As it clattered to the floor, she took in a long deep breath, and Astra could Read her fighting to hold back tears. Anger swallowed Tressa’s grief, and Astra knew she would not follow Master Julius to the plane of the dead.

  Not yet.

  There was a Temple of Selene attached to Portia’s Academy; Astra had been there many times, playing her lute to the glory of the goddess. Selene protected the chastity of the young female Readers-but she also blessed many young women for the last time at their weddings. Four young girls, Readers in training, were decorating the temple with flowers. They wore pink silk dresses rather than their usual plain white, in honor of the occasion.

  A priest and priestess of Selene would officiate at the ceremony-they were not Readers, so there was no reason for the priest not to enter the Academy grounds. Nor for the bridegroom, now that he had been declared failed. Astra Read him in the anteroom, a sad young man, still bewildered and disbelieving.

  He was not Reading; all Astra could tell were his surface emotions. He did not seem curious to Read for his bride-not surprising, for Tressa was also not interested in the man chosen for her. Her shields were up more tightly than Astra had ever known; for all she showed, Tressa might not have been a Reader at all.

  Astra wanted to tell her she didn’t feel pity-however much she might dislike Tressa, there was no question that she deserved her rank of Magister. Tressa had been treated unfairly-Astra rankled at the injustice, but did not know how to counter it. She had tried before, for Helena. Now she was older, and knew much more than she had then. Now her punishment for disputing Portias decision would be far worse than being deprived of her music.

  But Tressa was right: she could not refuse to take sides forever.

  Tressa, she thought, holding her thoughts carefully inward so no one could Read them, you will be avenged. I don’t know what, but 1 will do something to help stop this madness!

  It was too late for Tressa, but Astra felt better for her vow to do something before Tressa’s fate befell some other Reader. She and Master Claudia hung away Tressa’s black-bordered white gown. The black outer robes of her Magister status had already been taken away. On the narrow bed lay the small parcel of clothes Tressa owned which gave no indication of belonging to a Reader.

  Tressa returned from her bath. Claudia helped her into her loose underrobe, and sat her down to arrange her hair. Taming the thick black mass into

  chaste braids atop her head took some time, and the silence among the three women stretched endlessly.

  Astra fingered the red marriage gown. It was softest silk, and intrinsically beautiful-if only the bride were happily choosing to marry a man she loved. She knew Tressa perceived it as ugly-as she would, were she forced to wear it to wed a stranger and destroy her powers.

  What would happen, she wondered idly, if the bride and groom decided not to consummate their marriage? Surely no Master Reader spied on their wedding bed to make certain—

  She almost gagged at the thought.

  Yet for all the rumors and innuendos her errant powers had brought her over the years, never once had she heard of a couple not performing their marital duties. Peculiar, when they were always strangers and usually sick at heart at having been expelled from the familiar life of the Academy.

  A cloying smell assailed her nostrils, and she turned to see Claudia molding the last stray locks of Tressa’s hair with perfumed oil.

  Tressa wrinkled her nose. “Uff! That stuff smells like Morella’s whores!”

  Indeed it did, Astra recognized, only stronger, and with a few subtle musky tones she didn’t know.

  “Oh-I can’t stand that!” Tressa protested. “Let me go wash it off!”

  “No,” Master Claudia insisted, one hand on Tressa’s shoulder holding her in place. “It is the traditional wedding oil. You must wear it, just as your bridegroom does. I mixed it for you myself, Tressa-it is the formula specified in the wedding rite of Selene.”

  An aphrodisiac, Astra speculated. Probably intended to make things easier. Still, her nose wrinkled too as she brought the red dress and helped Claudia put it on Tressa.

  Then Claudia picked up the token both Astr
a and Tressa had been studiously ignoring-a small enamel badge, black circle on a white background. As she started to pin it to Tressa’s dress, the young woman pushed her hand away. “No! Master Claudia, you know I don’t deserve-!”

  “Oh, child,” the older woman said, her eyes brimming with tears, “no Reader thinks she deserves it, but the Council of Masters must make certain that no undeserving Reader reaches the upper ranks. The nonReaders trust us to govern our own.”

  A surge of sympathy opened Astra’s powers despite her intent to keep them under control, and she felt the deep sincerity of Claudia’s feelings for Tressa. If there was a conspiracy among the Masters, she was sure the healer was no part of it.

  But as she escorted Tressa to the temple, Astra let herself Read for other conspirators. Could she catch someone gloating with satisfaction?

  No. There were the girls she taught music, the best of the advanced class, playing sweetly and looking charming in their pink dresses. There were the priest and priestess of Selene, robed in blue and silver.

  A privacy screen shielded the door to the anteroom, where the bridegroom waited gloomily, accompanied by two male Masters in their red robes. The Master Readers would Read the ceremony from there, never entering the temple of the Academy of female Readers. Only the groom, on shaking legs, had to walk out to face the assembly.

  He, too, was dressed all in red-how ironic, Astra thought, that these two, who had dreamed of wearing the scarlet of Master Readers one day, should end their dreams in the red of marriage garments.

  Bride and groom would now see one another for the first time, for neither one had had the desire to Read for the other, both parties enclosed in their private grief. If it was not coincidence, someone had done an amazing job of matching physical types-the young man was slightly taller than Tressa, and had the same thick black hair and black eyes. Astra suspected that when he was in a good mood those eyes would flash just as Tressa’s did. Two of a kind. Was it possible that once they were past the difficulties of this forced marriage they would find happiness together?

  Astra sincerely hoped that they would.

  The ceremony began. The musicians fell silent, and the priest and priestess began chanting to the goddess, first in her incarnation as the goddess of chastity, then as one of the many aspects of the Great Mother.

  Astra, stationed behind Tressa, waited for the signal to remove the light bridal veil. As she leaned forward to do so, she came between the bride and groom… and smelled the scented oil he also wore.

  But the man’s was different, pleasant, attractive, drawing her to turn to look at him and realize that he was very handsome indeed—

  It is an aphrodisiac! Astra realized, quickly lifting Tressa’s veil away and stepping back out of range.

  Still, she doubted that the powers of that oil could do much against the severe depression of the immediate participants in the ceremony. Neither of them seemed to be attracted to the other-and both were still completely closed to Reading.

  They were not allowed to remain so, however. When the priest and priestess completed the wedding prayers, joined the hands of the bride and groom, and had them vow loyalty to the Goddess and to one another, there was only one more step to the ceremony. For nonReaders, that step was merely sharing a goblet of wine, first symbol of the life they would now share.

  For Readers, though, the ceremony included the joining of minds as well as hands. Portia herself joined the priestess, Marina beside her with the goblet of wine. The priestess blessed the two Master Readers, and Portia began something Astra had witnessed only once before, at Helena’s wedding.

  “Stephano,” Portia directed the bridegroom, “open your mind. Read your bride. Tressa, let your thoughts meet those of your husband. Read with me.”

  There was no denying Portia’s command. The bride and groom began to Read, Portia drawing them and every Reader in the temple into a most beautiful soaring emotion. She captured Tressa’s wild, prancing thoughts, too spirited to tame-and Stephanos eager quickness, sharp wit, loyal courage.

  The bride and groom turned to one another, startled recognition on their faces. To her joy, Astra saw them smile-the Masters had chosen well. Maybe that was why such marriages always seemed to work—

  It was impossible to retain independent thought as Portia wove the two personalities together in a dreamlike pattern more compelling than any music Astra had ever heard. No Reader could resist joining in, minds circling the intertwined thoughts Portia manipulated into a promise of shared happiness.

  It was far more beautiful than what Astra remembered from Helena’s wedding. She had been much younger then, unable to control her own powers at all, totally caught up in what Portia had been able to make of the weaker powers of Helena and Tranos. Stephano must be as strong a Reader as Tressa, for what Portia found to work with today engaged every Reader’s mind in a rapture such as-Astra realized she had withdrawn from the rapport, was observing it from without, admiring but not participating, something she could not do at age twelve. As Portia’s thoughts developed, she felt strangely distanced, as if she were watching a drama. But Tressa and Stephano were not acting; for them it was all real, shared love, shared grief, shared joy.

  Recognition tingled along Astra’s spine. Something she had picked up from Portia-making that poor mother see her dead baby-making her see with a Reader’s inner eye—

  Making her see what was not real!

  Gooseflesh rose on Astra’s body. There had been no Reader mother… now. No mother, no dead baby-and not a fever dream! A memory Portia had let slip in a moment of guilt.

  And Astra knew, knew as surely as if Portia had confessed it aloud, that the mother was her mother—

  that Portia had made Cassandra see Astra, her newborn infant, dead-so Portia could take the child, daughter of two strong Readers, and raise her to her own uses!

  My mother didn’t desert me! Portia betrayed her-betrayed me! My mother loved me, but Portia made her Read me as dead!

  Just then, “Drink,” Portia told the bride and groom, proffering the goblet.

  Astra looked up, fearing to find that Portia had Read her discovery, but the Master of Masters was too caught up in what she was doing to notice.

  Astra Read within herself to gain control, waiting until her pounding heart stilled. When she dared Read outward again, she refused to join in the rapport until she made sure she would not give away her thoughts. Her anger bubbled up, threatening to focus on Portia’s hypocrisy. She had to calm down!

  There was nothing she could do here-nothing she could do at all until the wedding was over and she had time to think and plan.

  Seeking to fix her mind elsewhere, she Read Tressa and Stephano directly in front of her. Stephano had just drunk the spiced wine, and was handing the goblet to Tressa, who drank deeply. Astra started to Read Tressa, found her still caught in the rapport Portia had created, and shied away, her Reading uncontrolled, everything flowing in on her as she fought to keep her roiling emotions out of the rapport.

  Tressa, reaching for Stephanos hands, dropped the wine goblet. It still contained some wine, and Astra stepped back by reflex as it splashed toward her white dress.

  And as she focused gratefully on the wine, her wild powers Read it, not just wine and spices-but beneath, something else in the wine—

  To calm herself, she let curiosity take hold, her Reading powers fixed on the wine pooling on the marble floor. The analytical technique she had learned at Gaeta took over-she recognized the alcohol, cinnamon, a tiny touch of mandragora, and-Entranced, Astra took apart every ingredient, not realizing, until a murmur and a movement of everyone in the temple recalled her to herself, that Portia had ended the beautiful marriage rapport.

  At that very moment, Astra found the last ingredient in the wine, and looked up sharply in horror, to find Portia’s eyes on her even as her rebellious mind was telling her something even more terrible than Portia’s treachery to one young woman long ago-it was treachery to all the Reader
s the Master of Masters ordered married off, set on the Path of the Dark Moon by diminishing their powers with-White lotus!

  Chapter Four

  Astra fled the temple, fled the Academy grounds, fled from every lie in her life.

  Fled from Portia.

  In her emotional state, her powers were open to the thoughts of everyone she passed. But she could tolerate that, almost ignore it, as her mind scanned for Readers watching her, following her out of body.

  Nothing so far, but—

  Only after she was many streets away from the temple did she allow herself to stop and catch her breath.

  This is madness! If Portia’s the one in the wrong, why am I the one who’s running away?

  “Because you’re a coward, Astra,” she muttered to herself, “just as you told Tressa. Portia has the power to destroy you, and now you ve given her a reason!”

  There had to be someplace to hide, even from the Master of Masters, if only long enough to make a plan…

  Zanos! He’d know what to do. But he’s got so much to worry about right now, fighting that death match—

  Of course! The arena! The last place a Reader would go, especially when blood sports were in progress!

  As she approached her destination, the young Reader scanned the arena’s medical room. She was not surprised to find a male Magister Reader languishing there, closed to Reading to shut out the carnage going on above him. With any luck, his mind would stay closed, unable to Read any alert Portia might send out in an attempt to find Astra.

  She focused her powers on the gladiators’ preparation rooms. There was Zanos, getting ready for his match. It had to be coming up soon. She would have to wait until the match was over.