Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Usernet, #C429, #Kat, #Extratorrents
He lowered his eyes and she knew he had picked up some sense of her unease. He said quietly, “Forgive me, mestra, I meant no offense.” No more than Carolin could he seek to force any attentions on a woman unwilling, since he would share the victim’s shock and distress, her sense of violation even at a rude look. But he was not used to women who were not of his own Hastur-kind who would be aware of this sensitivity.
Yet a woman who has not laran - it is like coupling with a dumb beast, hardly alive … she saw the scalding crimson on his turned-away neck and wished she knew how to tell him that it was all right. He approached the birds; she sensed the way in which he reached out to them, trying to echo the sense of harmlessness; to extend his senses toward the birds with nothing but the friendliest feelings. For a moment Romilly waited … then Temperance lowered her head and rubbed it against the scratching-stick in the Ridenow lord’s hand.
So he will be flying them, and he will be one with us, as Maura was … she did not know why the thought troubled her.
Maura must be still with the army, Romilly thought, they could not have left her behind, with the country alive with War; but Romilly had not seen her that day. When they rode out ahead with the birds, it was Lord Ranald who came with them, Temperance on his saddle; Romilly had yielded her own favorite, Prudence, to Ruyven, so that she could take Diligence, who was the most difficult of the birds to handle, on her own saddle. Diligence fussed and shrilled restlessly, but quieted when Romilly touched her mind.
Yes, you’re a beauty too, Romilly told the bird, and saw nothing incongruous in so addressing the huge, ugly creature.
But there was no call for their services that day, and Romilly was glad, for it would give Lord Ranald extra time to be completely familiar with the bird, to create close rapport with her. After an hour or so, when Romilly felt sure there would be no trouble and no need for her service, Romilly let her mind drift again into close contact with Sunstar, where he rode with Carolin at the head of the army.
Now it seemed that the countryside was deserted, with great open tracts of deserted lands, and now and again a quiet farmstead lying empty, wells broken, houses burnt or fallen away with time. Romilly, riding with Sunstar, was really not aware that she was eavesdropping on Carolin and Orain, riding together with Lady Maura close to them. Maura was wrapped in her cloak and spoke little, but Carolin said, looking at the deserted country, “When I was a child I rode through here and this was all settled land with farmers and crops. Now it is a wasteland.”
“The war?” Maura asked.
“War in my father’s time, before I was old enough to hold a sword - still I remember how green and fertile was this country. And now the settled lands are nearer to the edge of the hills; in the aftermath of war there are always bandits, men made homeless by war and conscienceless by the horrors they have seen; they ravaged this country, what the war had left of it, until the folk settled nearer to the protection of the forts and soldiers near Neskaya.”
But Romilly, her mind submerged in Sunstar, thought only, how green and fertile were the fields, how lovely the pastures. They camped that night by a watercourse, a narrow brook which rolled and tumbled down a cascade of old piled rocks, then flowed smooth and lovely across a fertile meadow starred with little blue and golden flowers.
“It will be a perfect night in High Summer,” said Carolin lazily, “Before the night is past, three of the moons will appear in the sky, and two of them near the full.”
“What a pity we will not have Midsummer-Festival here,” Maura laughed, and Carolin said, suddenly sober, “I vow to you, Maura - and to you, bredu,” he added, turning to Orain with a smile of deep warmth, “that we shall hold our Midsummer-Festival within the walls of Hali, at home. What say you to that, cousins?”
“Evanda grant it,” Maura said seriously, “I am homesick.”
“What, none of the young men in that faraway tower beyond the mountains-” lightly, Carolin punned on the name of Tramontana - “have shaken your resolve to remain maiden for the Sight, Maura?”
Maura laughed, though the sound was strained.
“On the day when you invite me to be queen at your side, Carolin, I shall not send you away disappointed.”
Sunstar jigged sidewise, restlessly, as Carolin leaned from his saddle to touch Maura’s cheek lightly with his lips. He said, “If the Council will have it so, Maura, so be it. I had feared your heart was dead when Rakhal turned away from you.”
“Only my pride was wounded,” she said quietly. “I loved him, yes, as cousin, as foster-brother; but his cruelty slew my heart. He thought he could come to me over the bodies of my kinfolk, and I would forgive him all when I saw the crown he offered, like a child forgetting a bruise when she is given a sweetnut. I would not have it said that I turned from Rakhal to you because I would have the one who could bring me the crown-” her voice faltered, and Sunstar tossed his head indignantly at the jerk on the reins which brought him to a halt so that Carolin could lean again toward Maura’s saddle; but this time he felt it as his rider lifted the slight from of the leronis bodily from her saddle to his own, and held her there. There were no more words, but Sunstar, and Romilly with him, sensed an outflow, an outpouring of emotion that made him restless, made him prance until Carolin chided him with a tug on the reins, and in Romilly’s mind were flooding images of sleek flanks and satiny bodies, of swift running in moonlight, which made her rub her head as if she were feverish, with unfamiliar sensations flooding her whole body, so that she retreated abruptly into herself, away from the great stallion’s unfamiliar emotions and touch.
What has come aver me, that I am so filled with emotion, that I laugh and cry without a word spoken or a touch?
Carolin said in her mind, and she was not conscious that he was not at her elbow, We can leave the horses for tonight in this field; you are a leronis, can you keep them there without fencing, which we have no time to set up? And Romilly was about to answer when she heard Maura’s voice as dear as if spoken aloud, I have not Romilly’s gift, but if you will summon her to help me, I will do what I can.
Romilly tugged the reins a little and pulled her own horse to a stop. Ruyven turned startled eyes on her, but she said, “We are to stop here for the night and I am summoned to the king and the leronis.”
It was Orain who brought her the word, riding through the mass of men and horses and equipment flowing along the road, calling out, “Where are you off to, Romilly? The vai dom has requested you to attend him!”
“I know,” said Romilly, and went on toward the king, leaving Orain staring and surprised behind her.
Carolin extended his arm toward the broad field. He said, “We are to make camp here for the night. Can you help Maura to set pastures here for the horses so that they will not stray?”
“Certainly,” she said, and the men set about making camp, turning the best horses into the field, Sunstar among them.
Maura said, when they were done, “Now we shall set a chasm across which they will see, though we cannot; horses are afraid of heights, so we need only make them see it.”
Romilly linked minds with the young leronis, and together they wove an illusion; a great chasm between horses and men, surrounding the pasture… Romilly, still partly linked in mind with Sunstar and her senses extending to her own horse and to the others in the field … and aware with them of the great black stallion - saw it and physically flinched, great spaces down which she might fall, shrinking back….
“Romilly,” said Maura seriously, breaking away from the link, “You are what we call a wild telepath, are you not?”
She turned, filled with a prickly awareness of the critical sound in Maura’s voice. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said stiffly.
“I mean, you are one whose laran has been developed of itself, without the discipline of a Tower,” Maura said. “Do you know that it can be dangerous? I wish you would let me monitor you, and make certain that you are under control. Laran is no simple thing.”
She said, even more stiffly, “The people of MacAran have been animal trainers, working with birds and horses and dogs, since time unknown; and not all of them have been supervised by the Towers either.” A trace of the mountain accent crept back in her speech, as if the echo of her father’s voice, saying, “The Hairimyn would have it that a man’s own mind must be ruled over by their leronyn and their Towers!”
Maura said placatingly, “I have no wish to rule over you, Romilly, but you look feverish, and you are still of an age where you might be subject to some of the dangers of laran improperly supervised and developed. If you cannot allow me to monitor you and see what has happened to you, your brother-“
Still less, Romilly thought, could she allow her stern and ascetic brother, so like a cristoforo monk, to read the thoughts she hardly dared acknowledge to herself. She twisted away impatiently, fumbling at a barrier against Maura. “It is generous of you, vai domna, but truly you need not concern yourself about me.”
Maura frowned a little, and Romilly sensed that she was weighing the ethics of a Tower-trained telepath, never to intrude, against a very real concern for the girl. It annoyed Romilly - Maura was not so much older than she was herself, why did she think she was needed to straighten out Romilly’s laran?
I was left on my own with it, and now when I need it no longer they are eager to offer help! I was not offered help when my father would have sold me to Dom Garris, and there was none to help me when I would have been raped by Rory, or when I made an idiot of myself forcing my way into Orain’s bed. I have won these battles alone and unhelped, what makes them think I need their damned condescension now?
Maura still looked at her uneasily, but at last, to Romilly’s relief, she sighed and turned away.
“Look,” Carolin said, and pointed, “Are you sure that your illusion has worked?”
Romilly looked up, her breath almost stopping; Sunstar was rushing toward them, his head flung up, his legs seeming hardly to touch the ground as he bolted. Maura lifted her hand. “Wait,” she said, and as Sunstar reached the corner of the meadow he stopped short, placing all four feet together as if truly on the edge of a cliff, his head lowered, foam dripping from his teeth as if in mortal terror. He shuddered with fear, then snorted, backed away, tossed his head and raced away in the other direction.
“The illusion will hold them tonight, at least,” Maura said.
“But he is so frightened,” Romilly protested; she was dripping with the stallion’s sweat of fear.
“Neither memory nor imagination,” said Maura quietly. “You have both, Romy, but look at him now.” And, indeed, Sunstar was quietly cropping grass; he stopped, sniffed the wind and began to move closer to a group of mares silently grazing in the meadow.
“He will improve the quality of your royal stables,” said Orain jocularly, “and any mare he covers tonight will have a foal worthy of those same stables, I doubt not.”
Carolin chuckled. “He is welcome to his sport, old friend. We who are responsible for this war-” he touched Maura gently, only on the shoulder, but the look that passed between them made Romilly blush, “must wait for a while for our satisfactions; but they will be all the dearer for that, will they not, my love?”
She only smiled, but Romilly physically turned her eyes from the intensity of that smile.
That night Jandria came and asked Romilly if she wished to join the Swordswomen’s mess again, now that she was not riding ahead of her special detachment with the birds. It was evident from Jandria’s voice that she expected Romilly to be overjoyed at being allowed again to join her sisters, but Romilly was too weary and raw-edged for the chatter, the noise and giggling of the young women of the Sisterhood, eager to sleep away from their communal tent. She made the excuse that she was still needed among the birds.
“And you need not fear that I am improperly guarded,” she said sourly, “for between the Lady Maura and my monkish brother, I might as well be a priestess of Avarra on her guarded isle where no man may come without the Dark Mother’s death-curse!”
She could see that Jandria was still troubled, but the older woman only embraced her. She said, “Rest well, then, little sister. You look so weary; they have demanded much of you in very little time, and you are still young. Be sure to eat a good supper; I have known leroni before this, and to replenish their energies after their work, a fragile little girl will eat enough to satisfy three wood-cutters! And sleep long and soundly, my dear.”
She went away; Romilly fed the birds, with Ruyven’s help, and even Lord Ranald, she noted with satisfaction, did not shirk his share of the tending. But the smell of their carrion food which the army hunters had brought her, made her feel queasy again, and although Carolin had sent a good haunch of roast chervine from his own tables, with his compliments to his bird-handlers, she could hardly eat and only shoved the food around on her plate.
By the time the camp was completely settled for the night, it was well past sunset, but the night was lighted with three full moons, and the fourth was a half-filled crescent.
“Four moons,” said Lord Ranald, laughing, “What madness shall we do? They say in Thendara, What is done under four moons need not be remembered or regretted…
Ruyven said with frozen courtesy, “Such nights are sacred, friend; I shall spend much of my night in sacred silence and meditation, if Carolin’s soldiers-” he gestured to where, faintly and downwind, he could hear the sound of a rryl and loud, untuneful voices all shouting the chorus of a popular drinking song, “will allow me a little peace.”