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The Sixth Discipline

Page 50

by Carmen Webster Buxton


  Part of Ran-Del wanted to say yes. It was clear what she was offering, and he knew quite well he wanted it. But he was a Sansoussy, even if she wasn’t, so he shook his head wordlessly.

  She stepped a tiny step closer. “Are you quite sure?”

  “Yes.” Ran-Del took a deep breath and recited the mantra for the First Discipline in his mind. “I’m sorry,” he said, with real regret in his voice.

  Janis sighed and stepped back. Ran-Del could feel her desire melt into bitterness. “I’d always hoped to meet a Sansoussy man. It never occurred to me that I might meet him too late to do me any good.”

  Ran-Del made no reply. Nothing in his life had prepared him for such a situation, and he didn’t know what to say.

  Janis turned her back to him and went out the door without looking back.

  Ran-Del scrambled into his clothes, eager to be clothed again. He folded the blanket, left it neatly on the chair, and then opened the door and stepped into the main room of the bar. Several people were sitting at the tables, but none of them even gave him a glance.

  A slight man with a weary air who was clearing glasses from an empty table came over to where Ran-Del stood. “All set?” he asked. “Janis said you’d be leaving soon.”

  “Yes,” Ran-Del said. “Would you thank her for me?”

  The man nodded and turned away. Ran-Del left without further discussion. City manners still seemed abrupt to him, almost like no manners at all.

  He had no trouble heading back in the same general direction he had come, and once the tower of the Hayden complex was in view, it wasn’t difficult for him to find his way back to the front gate.

  The two men on duty in the security station were clearly visible through the window in the outside wall. Ran-Del didn’t recognize either of them, but they seemed to know him.

  “Good afternoon, Citizen Jahanpur,” the shorter one said as Ran-Del walked up to the gate.

  “Good afternoon,” Ran-Del replied, placing his hand on the square panel by the gate. The light flickered again, and the gate slid open.

  Having learned a little about how communication worked in the Hayden complex, Ran-Del wasn’t surprised when Francesca was waiting for him as soon as he came in the front door of the house.

  “Where have you been?” she demanded. Only the worry radiating from her softened her tone.

  “Good afternoon, Francesca,” Ran-Del said politely, conscious of the public setting.

  Francesca seemed to realize it, too. “Let’s go to my—our room.”

  Ran-Del followed her, noting the determined line of her shoulders and the brisk pace she set.

  “Now,” Francesca said, turning to face him as the sitting room door closed behind him, “where have you been, Ran-Del Jahanpur?”

  “I told you I was going into the city,” Ran-Del said stiffly. She might be genuinely concerned, but he wanted it clear that she wasn’t in charge of him. “And who are you to question me, as if I were a child or a servant?”

  Francesca bit her lip. “I was worried about you. You were gone all day—you missed lunch—there was no way I could contact you—you don’t know the com code, let alone how to use a com set.”

  “I was fine,” Ran-Del said, uneasily aware that he was, to some extent, lying. “You don’t need to worry about me, Francesca.”

  Her frown suggested that she suspected something was amiss. “How can I not worry when you insist on going out alone?”

  “Why shouldn’t I go alone? I’ve been of age for six seasons. I can take care of myself.”

  “Where did you go in the city?”

  Reluctant to reveal his mishap, Ran-Del resorted to belligerence. “What business is it of yours? Can’t I have any privacy here?”

  She took a step closer, one hand raised as if to touch him, but stopped short. “I was just curious. Don’t be angry at me. I don’t want you to be angry, Ran-Del.”

  Ran-Del knew instantly what was on her mind. He could feel it easily, not delicate tendrils but hot waves of desire. She unsealed her shirt, so that it came open all the way, and then did the same to her undergarments, revealing a strip of bare flesh with the gentle slope of one breast next to it. She took his hand and held it so that it cupped her breast, almost as she had the night they had been alone on the plains, except that now he touched skin instead of cloth.

  The gesture reminded Ran-Del of Janis’ touching him, and he felt his desire rise at the same time as he suffered a stab of guilt for thinking of another woman while he was with Francesca.

  He kissed her passionately, letting guilt fade as his yearning grew stronger. She responded to the kiss and then led him into the bedroom. Ran-Del pushed her back onto the bed, and everything proceeded in a now-familiar pattern until Francesca removed Ran-Del’s shirt. She stopped suddenly, and stared at him.

  “Where did you go today, Ran-Del?” she demanded again. “What did you do in the city?”

  Ran-Del knew she was very aroused, and he didn’t understand why she would suddenly stop what she was doing to ask him questions. “What?” he asked, knowing that he sounded dull and stupid.

  “Where did you go?” Francesca insisted, pulling away from him and sitting up. Anger began to stir in her, and suspicion. “Who were you with today?”

  “What?” Ran-Del repeated, sitting up himself. “I don’t know anyone in the city.”

  “Was it a whore, Ran-Del?”

  Her anger stung his guilt, like salt on a wound. “No! What’s wrong, Francesca? Why are you acting this way?”

  “You’ve had your clothes off,” Francesca said, jumping to her feet. “Your undershirt is turned wrong side out. It wasn’t that way this morning. I saw you put it on correctly after we made love. Who was it, Ran-Del?”

  Ran-Del flushed. He remembered dressing in haste, worrying that Janis might come back into the storeroom. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

  “Then what happened?” Naked from the waist up, Francesca stood accusingly, utterly unconscious of the picture she made.

  “If you must know,” Ran-Del said, annoyed at having to reveal his ignorance, “I fell into the river.”

  Francesca’s eyes opened wide. “You fell into the Jordan?”

  “Yes. I was watching some people unload a ship—a barge—and I got knocked into the water by some kind of machine. A man named Georges jumped in and helped me get out.”

  “Can you swim?” Francesca said.

  He would have to tell her everything—well, almost everything. He wouldn’t lie, but he saw no need to tell her every detail about Janis. “Not very well. Georges helped me get up a ladder to the—the wharf, and then he took me to a bar where a woman dried my clothes for me.”

  “Ran-Del!” Francesca said, shocked, “you might have drowned.”

  “Well, I didn’t.” He would have to be careful or she would try to keep him a prisoner like her father had. “I’m fine. It was nothing, Francesca.”

  “Nothing?”

  Ran-Del decided to take the offensive. A minute ago she had burned with desire. Surely that couldn’t all be gone so soon? He stood up and stepped close enough to touch her. “It was nothing.” He bent his head down and kissed her at the same time he wrapped his arms around her. He could feel her relax in his arms, and she didn’t protest as he laid her back down on the bed. Ran-Del felt one last twinge of guilt as he thought of Janis and how she had stood so close to him. He remembered how her hair had looked as red as copper moss in the light from the little storeroom window, and how her eyes had glinted in almost the same coppery shade. And then Francesca slid her hands down his sides and he forgot about Janis and thought only about the moment.

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