by Jean Lorrah
It was a chamber of a castle in which Dirdra-held still and silent by Adept power-was forced to stand and watch. The pair of exquisitely beautiful automatons approached the man who reclined on the couch: Maldek.
Torio was startled to see that he was~young-somehow he had expected an aged drooling lecher.
Rather, Maldek appeared to be in his thirties, and a fine specimen of manhood. His broad shoulders were exaggerated by a tabard built out beyond them-yet he would not have needed that extra width.
He was built almost as powerfully as Zanos.
His silver-encrusted black tabard was cut short, to reveal long, well-formed legs to which his black hose gave full display. He posed, one leg bent, as physically beautiful as the pair before him-but alive, charged with vitality.
His hair was thick, and darker than the Maduran norm, showing red glints in the torchlight, but his eyes were Maduran blue, fringed with thick black lashes. Lest the eyes seem effeminate, his jaw was square and firm. Otherwise his features were finely chiseled, and he was clean-shaven to display them.
Torio recognized that Dirdra felt a powerful physical attraction to Maldek, but what she knew of his character caused her to deny it. The scene she was remembering showed why.
Maldek beckoned the young man and woman forward. They were dressed only in loose smocks, and at his command dropped them, standing in naked glory.
The woman was golden blond, perfectly formed from ample but youthfully firm breasts through slender waist to hips just full enough to balance in lovely curves above long, slender legs.
The man had the more typically Maduran reddish hair, on the sandy side. He, too, had been chosen at the peak moment of youth verging on maturity, a strong body, well proportioned and toned with exercise.
At Maldek’s command, the man began to stroke and fondle the woman. Both of them became excited, sweat sheening their bodies-but their eyes remained dead.
Suddenly Maldek snapped his fingers. Although aroused and unsatisfied, the young man instantly let go of the woman. Dropping his arms to his sides, he turned and with stiff, reluctant steps left the room.
The woman took one step after him, holding out her arms with a wordless cry of disappointment. Then, although Maldek did not speak, she turned and walked seductively toward the couch.
Maldek rose. Each move an eager caress, the woman began to remove his clothes, kissing his skin as she exposed it.
Dirdra tried to close her eyes, to turn her head away, but Maldek’s power held her helpless. His beautiful but cold eyes fixed on her over the shoulder of the woman undressing him.
“You see what you can have, Dirdra? Come to me freely; let us enjoy our youth and health together.
Enjoy, Dirdra. Know the pleasure only a Master Sorcerer can give.”
At his words, a hot wave of arousal spread upward from Dirdra’s loins. She blushed in agonized embarrassment as she recognized her body’s yearning-
“No! Ohhh… no!”
Dirdra’s scream was in the present-at the time she was remembering, Maldek had held her powerless to speak, Reading her reactions with evil glee.
Now she stared at the four Readers. “You’re just like him-making me remember! Feasting on my thoughts!” She clapped her hands to the sides of her head, but being neither Reader nor Adept she could not close off her thoughts.
Dirdra’s green eyes darted fire as she shouted, “I don’t care anymore! I’ll kill myself before I submit! If you want me then, you’ll have nothing but an orbu!”
Chapter Three
“Dirdra,” said Zanos, “no one here wants to hurt you. We seek information, that’s all.”
“It was my fault,” said Astra in halting Maduran, and Torio realized that she had stopped Reading. “My Reading powers are difficult to control-on the wave of your emotion, I could not help Reading your memory, and that broadcast it to everyone else. Dirdra-please forgive me.”
The green eyes studied her warily. “Why should I trust you?”
“You have no reason to,” Astra replied truthfully.
“But I’m Maduran, like you,” said Zanos.
“So is Maldek!” Dirdra spat.
“Bu I’d never heard of him before today. I was stolen away from my home when I was much younger than you.”
“Then you were fortunate,” Dirdra said flatly. “Those who rule now would kill you-they will have no rivals in the powers of sorcery!”
“Like Drakonius,” Torio put in. “But Dirdra, not all Adepts are like Maldek. How long have you been here in the Savage Empire?” His command of the savage language was excellent by now, but he would always speak it with an Aventine accent.
Dirdra answered in the same language with a Maduran accent, but it was not linguistic differences which confused her. “What is the Savage Empire?”
“These lands,” Torio replied. “The lands which once belonged to Drakonius, Nerius, and Lilith-and the Aventine Empire, which is no more. It is now joined into one unit-and how could you not know that?”
“I know you defeated Drakonius,” Dirdra replied. “That story I heard everywhere in my travels-and how there was a prophecy about peace in the lands of the white wolf and the red dragon. That is why I tried to get to Zendi… but as I got closer, I heard new stories-how you made earthquakes, not caring who they killed. That’s how you took the Aventine Empire, isn’t it? You destroyed the capital city-the Emperor and his whole family-leaving no one but you to rule.” Her green eyes dared them to deny it…
but of course they could not.
“I know you will not believe it, Dirdra,” Melissa said at last, “but we were trying to prevent the earthquake. We learned that what has been foretold cannot be stopped.”
“Foretold?” Dirdra asked. “The earthquake was foredoomed?” For some reason, this suggestion changed the girl’s attitude.
“When the moon devours the sun,” Melissa quoted the prophecy, “the earth will devour Tiberium-and it did, despite everything we tried to prevent it.”
“And… is not your Lord Lenardo the red dragon?” Dirdra asked.
“That is his symbol,” Torio told her, “and Aradia-his wife-the white wolf is hers.”
“Then perhaps in this Savage Empire,” said the girl, “I truly will find the peace I have sought all the way from Madura!”
Over the next few days, Torio and Melissa spent much of their time with Zanos and Astra, planning the expedition to Madura. They would travel by sea, taking ship at Dragon’s Mouth, the natural harbor in Wulfston’s territory.
Zanos was frustrated that Dirdra would have nothing to do with their plans. “She could tell us so much!”
But the young Maduran woman discarded her boy’s clothes for dresses the moment she saw that it was safe for women to display their beauty in Zendi-for beauty she had aplenty. Even her shorn hair could not mar the perfection of her translucent skin, delicate bone structure, and beautiful eyes-and when her hair was clean and brushed softly out around her face, it glowed a soft, rich auburn.
Dirdra was a weaver, and quickly obtained employment when she displayed her skills before the newly formed guild. The craft guilds, loosely based on the Academy system, took the place of the family units Drakonius had destroyed; only time would tell if they would develop into a permanent system for passing down vital knowledge from one generation to another.
So Zanos mulled over whatever outdated maps of Madura he could obtain, and tried to make adequate plans. The northern isles were too far for any Reader to attempt to visit out of body-even Lenardo.
The gladiator took heart from the fact that his home village was marked on two of the maps… and the others refrained from pointing out that those particular maps could have been older than he was.
Melissa was eager for the journey-so much so that it began to grate on Torio’s nerves after a time.
Finally he went to talk to Lenardo.
“Are you brooding again?” his mentor asked. “Grow up, Torio. If you don’t want to go adventuring,
stay home, but don’t blame Melissa for wanting to learn more of what she can do with her powers.”
“And don’t you give me that same advice again!” Torio snapped. “I am trying to conquer my powers.”
They were in Lenardo’s office again, not Reading for privacy. Although that left Torio blind, he had learned in recent months to rely on different clues, as other blind persons did.
Now he stood and faced Lenardo. “Why do I have to be a leader?” he asked. “Why do I have to rule lands? There are other things a man can do with his life-there was nothing wrong with the Aventine Academy system for Readers except that it kept those Readers who were meant for leadership, like you, from having power. And that led to corruption in Readers like Portia, who could not gain power except through devious means.
“But Master Lenardo, not every Reader was born to rule! And the more I watch you, Aradia, Wulfston-the less I feel I can ever be like you.
Why can’t I just be a Reader? Why do I have to be a lord?”
He could feel Lenardo staring at him. Then the older man said, “I never really thought about it, Torio. /
found myself when Aradia gave me lands to rule-but you don’t have to follow in my footsteps. It’s too bad that you cannot prophesy your own destiny-but I will certainly stop trying to tell you what it ought to be.”
Torio unexpectedly felt himself blushing. He had fought, even killed in battle-but never before had he stood up angrily to someone in authority over him. It was the first time he realized that Lenardo no longer had such authority. They were both grown men now-equals-and Lenardo freely acknowledged it. It was disconcerting, but it also gave him a strange new sense of pride.
Then, “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to shout at you, Master Lenardo. You’re not the one causing my frustration.”
“Melissa?” the older man asked.
“Yes. No. It’s-just when I think I’m discovering what to do with my life, the gods drop some other power on me that I didn’t ask for and don’t want. My own words are sending the woman I love away, Master. What can I do but go with her?”
“You could try living your own life, Torio,” Lenardo suggested. “Do you realize that today is the first time I’ve ever seen you talk back to someone you respect? You’ve always been too much of a good boy.”
“What do you mean?”
“At the Academy, you never got into mischief-I
mean serious mischief, not daydreaming and forgetting your lessons.”
“You caught me gambling with the stable boys once,” Torio reminded him.
“Yes-because you were angry with me, not because it was something you wanted to do. Torio, you don’t act, you react. I’m not pleased that you’re going on this journey to follow Melissa, but I won’t try to stop you. Perhaps along the way you may learn some leadership, and stop being afraid to take the authority your powers have earned you. We need leaders-so perhaps by the time you come back you’ll be ready to take responsibility for your own people.”
Torio left his meeting with Lenardo feeling pleased that his teacher recognized him as an adult. However, he still had no answer to what he was to do with his life. Perhaps when he and Melissa returned from Madura he should try teaching in Master Clement’s new Academy. Or perhaps when they discovered what destiny drew Melissa to the frozen isles, he would find his own as well.
So he returned to his room, still the same small, simply furnished room he preferred. There would always be a place for him in Lenardo’s home-even after their confrontation, he did not have to ask. But there were guest houses now, where Wulfston and Lilith and other dignitaries stayed when they visited Zendi.
Lenardo’s villa was no longer sparsely furnished, either-lavish furnishings filled the public rooms, works of art were scattered here and there, and the suite of rooms Lenardo shared with Aradia was rich with silks, satins, and velvets.
Decius came to the door. “Torio, will you help me persuade Master Clement to let me go with you to Madura? He thinks I’m a cripple-even after I helped him escape out of the Aventine Empire!”
“No he doesn’t, Decius,” Torio assured the boy. “No one can possibly think that about you-but you are young. You’ll have plenty of time in your life for adventuring. Master Clement is old-and he needs you, although he’d never admit it.”
“What do you mean?” Decius asked.
“You’ve already said it. He could never have escaped the empire without your help.”
“Well-he was all bent up with rheumatism then. The Adepts here cured that.”
“Yes, but they can’t cure old age. Decius, of all the boys in the Adigia Academy, you are the only one Master Clement could confide in when Portia threatened him. He trusts you-and he needs your help in his new Academy here in Zendi. And surely you know how much he has to teach you about Reading?”
“Yes, but-”
“You are on the brink of the first great growth of your powers. There will be no Master Readers on our journey-Astra, Melissa, and I are only Magisters. None of us has the years of experience Master Clement has… and he won’t be here forever. There will be the whole world out there for you to go adventuring in after you have achieved the rank of Magister-and you will do so easily under Master Clement’s tutelage. But if you leave now, you will miss the opportunity to have the Master of Masters’
guidance at this crucial time. And… you do not understand right now how very much he will rely on you during the difficulties to come.”
Decius stared at him. “Is that… one of your prophecies?”
He hadn’t been able to say anything about Decius when Master Clement had asked him-but now he knew, without knowing how he knew, that Decius was involved in Master Clement’s destiny. “Yes-I think it is, Decius. I can’t tell you any more than that, though. You must stay in Zendi, for Master Clement’s sake.”
The boy sighed. “All right-but you have to promise, if it’s true that the Maduran sorcerers can make limbs regrow, that you’ll tell me, so I can go-”
“You don’t think we would keep that kind of information to ourselves, do you? Melissa is going because she wants to learn to do it if it’s true-so it may just be that she will come back able to heal you!”
“Is that a prophecy?”
“No. It’s just a speculation. Now come and help me figure out how to get all of the stuff I want to take along into this one bag. I think it will take Adept power!”
“I’m no Adept, but I know the trick that will do it,” Decius replied.
“Oh? Show me!”
Torio had hung on the pegs in his room woolen tunics and leggings such as were worn here in the dead of winter. It was said to be cold even in the summer in Madura-and they might well be there through the winter.
Decius picked one set of woolen undergarments and a heavy cloak off the pegs and tossed them on the bed. “There. You take those for when you first arrive-and for the rest… pack money!”
Torio laughed-and realized that the boy was right. But after Decius had gone, he thought about their conversation, and wondered-was it because he was leaving that Decius was now involved in Master Clement’s destiny? Was he taking over a role meant for Torio?
Two years ago, Torio had praised Decius’ swordsmanship-and the boy had thought himself ready to defend his Academy. Without the knowledge or permission of the Master Readers he had joined the battle-and lost his leg. And perhaps the main reason for Torio’s guilt was the fact that Decius had never once blamed him.
What am I exposing him to this time? Torio wondered. A voice from the tomb? A generation of gloom? What did it mean? What good was it to be a prophet if he couldn’t understand his own prophecies?
Besides, there was no time set on those strange words. Master Clement was in perfect health now-he could live for ten or even twenty more years, and his “destiny” could occur tomorrow or at the end of his life. Taking Decius away would not avoid his destiny, and would expose him to known hardships and unknown dangers. And it was on
ly common sense that he stay here, where Master Readers could teach him, while he learned to use his growing Reading skills.
Face it, Torio told himself. Decius will be much better off if you just stay out of his life for a while.
There was a grand farewell dinner at Lenardo’s villa, followed by entertainment. Lenardo’s bard retold the stories of the white wolf and the red dragon, the defeat of Drakonius and the fall of Tiberium.
Zanos and Astra were musicians, and now they played while everyone danced. It was a lovely evening…
and no one let the thought slip out that it might be the last time they would all be together.
In the morning, the train of horses waited outside Lenardo’s villa as they said their goodbyes. And just as they were mounting up, Dirdra came down the street, dressed once more in boy’s clothes and carrying a knapsack containing her meager possessions.
She approached Zanos and Astra. “My lord… my lady-may I beg permission to return with you to Madura?”
“Why now?” demanded Zanos. “You’d have nothing to do with our preparations. Why have you suddenly decided to go now?”
She raised her clear green eyes to his blue ones. “Because… I have found that I cannot live at peace with myself in this peaceful land, while I know that my brother suffers in Maldek’s power. Lord Zanos, you do not even know if you have kin alive in Madura-but you cannot rest until you find out and free them. So how can I leave a brother I know to be suffering? I must free him from Maldek, or die trying.”
“Then join us, lass,” said Zanos, “and welcome. Your knowledge will be most valuable.”
Thus they were five setting out on their journey-no retinue, no servants. Torio, Melissa, and Astra had all grown up as Readers taking care of themselves and never aspiring to have servants. Zanos had aspired-but his servants had betrayed him.
