The Age of Light (The Ava'Lonan Herstories Book 1) (26 page)

“It’s one of my areas of concentration,” she said
softly, carefully putting the book back on its shelf. “I study and
cross-reference texts on different areas of ancient
herstory
,
which is why Teacher Rukto assigned me to work with the Heir. One of my
favorite periods is the Pre-
Yo’teng
period.”
She picked up more books and began shelving them with crisp precision. She
would not look at him.

“I never delved that deeply into that era,” he said,
which was not exactly true. But she seemed more at ease when she was talking
about something familiar. He decided to try and keep her talking as he handed
her more books.

“It’s quite fascinating,” she said.

“Really? Tell me all about it,” he urged, watching
the sweet curve of her back as she moved from shelf to shelf. She did not get a
chance to answer, for just then the terminus of an
av’tun
opened, admitting to their presence a young man with shoulder-length
guinne
.
He was similarly clad in loincloth and sandals. He bowed to Staventu
gracefully, arms spread, then touched Pentuk’s cheek in greeting.

“I’ll take over for you,” he said in a deep,
caressing voice, a smile vivid in his dark, handsome face. Pentuk smiled in
return, in gratitiude. The tension of attraction between the two was evident.

She turned away to face Staventu. “Let me take you
from here,
Av’
Son,” she said as the other took
over where she had left off. She flowed past. Staventu turned to follow,
glancing back to the male Librarian. That other was looking sidelong at him;
their eyes locked and the other raised his head to meet Staventu’s gaze full
on. A slight, hard, ironic smile touched the other’s lips, and he nodded once,
a small dip of his head. Staventu hurried after his retreating guide’s back,
wondering what the gesture meant.

Pentuk led him out of the labyrinthine Library, up
to one of the larger study
lains
near the top
of the structure.

“This is where the Heir and I did most of our work,”
she said. The circular walls were dominated by huge, lightly curtained windows
and the roof by a large crystal dome with narrow striations that diffused the
brilliant light of
Av
. A beige carpet
covered the floor and low, reclining chairs circled the large, light-colored
wooden table in the center. The table was half covered by stacks of loosely
bound papi’ras tablets. The other half held books.

“These are all notes?” he asked, picking up a
tablet. His sister’s familiar scrawl filled the page.

“Yes,
Av’Son
.” She
paused, touched a chair. He pulled it out and held it for her, then seated
himself, waiting for her to continue. The pause grew into an uncomfortable
silence, as she, obviously waited for him, seeming to forget that she was
obligated to speak first - since he outranked her. He was about to break the
silence when she beat him to it.

“You - ah - mentioned asking me something,
Av’Son
?”
she said. “What would you have of me?”

“Yes, that.” He placed the notepad back on its
stack, leaned forward and looked meaningfully at her. “Would you consider
accompanying us on the search for the Heir?” he asked quietly. “Your knowledge
would be invaluable to us; and your presence most - welcome.” He did not bother
to try to keep his attraction to her out of his voice.

Pentuk lowered her head, hesitant, though not
displeased. “Av’Son, I - my duties - I don’t know if...”

“I could make arrangements for you to be free to go,
if there is a problem,” he assured her. “You
need not decide right away - Mother still has to perform the Rite of Seeking.
Oh, and your suggestion turned out to be exactly right - Mother praised it as
brilliant,” he added. Her face lit up at that. Then she looked uncertain.

“But why would you need me? Would I not be more of a
hindrance?”

“No, of course not,” he said emphatically. “We will
need your expertise if this creature turns out to be dangerous. You
did
help the Heir design the trap for it, didn’t you?”

“But it obviously failed,” she said, sounding abashed.
“Otherwise the Heir would be back.”

“We don’t know that,” he countered. “Look, you are
the resident expert on this being. We need your input, desperately.” He was so
earnest, so sincere, Pentuk found herself on the verge of saying she would go.

“What of
- my -
dishonorable behavior?” she found
herself saying instead.

“Forgotten,” he said. “You are absolved. As far as I
am concerned, it never happened.”

She looked up into his eyes, and a hesitant smile
began to touch her lips - and then a flash of memory seemed to slash across her
features, twisting them to something horribly tragic. It vanished almost
instantly, however. She stood abruptly.

“Highness, I cannot. Please, may I be excused from
your presence?”

“Of course,” he said, sitting back, taken aback by
the sudden change of heart, but careful not to show it. The hurt confusion by
her rejection still communicated itself to her, though. She bowed and fled the
lain
.

Alone, he puzzled. What could have scared her off?
Surely it was not his attraction to her; it seemed to please her. Then he
thought of the male Librarian and the smile she had gifted him with.
The
pull of attraction between them was evident.
Perhaps they were already
paired and she did not have the heart to tell him. Perhaps calling the other
had been a subtle hint, and the look that was not quite challenge a
not-so-subtle hint. That would explain her reaction. That explained it all too
well.

Staventu heaved a sigh, swallowing emotions he did
not want to examine too closely. It was going to be a long journey.

the
shelves turned, darkly lit...

Pentuk barged into Rukto’s study, quite forgetting
to announce herself, or any other shred of courtesy.

Rukto, reading in his favorite chair, did not
sternly remind her of this. He did not seem cross with her at all. In fact, he
seemed to be expecting her. He merely held out a fatherly hand and she fell to
her knees at his feet, placing her head in his aged lap. She was not quite
crying. Much. Anymore.

His hand stroked her satin
guinned
head as he made soothing noises and spoke gentle, half-heard reassurances.

“I - had a feeling you’d find your way here,” he
said finally, when her muffled sounds of distress finally quieted.

“Teacher - I -” she began in a voice of purest
liquid misery, but then could not go on.

Rukto sighed. He knew why she had come and why in
such great distress. It could only be that the Crown Prince Staventu had come
to her to ask her to join them on their search for the Heir; and she had
panicked.

Ah, my sweet child, I’ve kept you too sheltered for
too long,
he thought.
Perhaps I was selfish for keeping you cloistered here in this
place. Perhaps I should have pushed you away a little, started you back on the
road to independence sooner. But your recovery was so long and your love of books
so close to mine, that it was easy to just keep you wrapped up and near me.

And he remembered when they had first brought her to
him, his face set grim with the remembrance.

...She
huddled away in the farthest corner of the lain in which they had left her, the
books she had gotten up the courage to take down and start reading abandoned in
the middle of the floor. The olbey’woman D’rad’ni explained softly that she was
from the Indigno Tribe and how the Crown Prince of that Tribe had forced
himself onto her. How she had not yet been schooled by an Ov’ta’mu, an
instructor in sex - the gentle, understanding and loving first sexual partner
that all young adults have so that they know what sex could and should be - a
beautiful communion of emotion and physical love shared between two people. The
olbey’woman told how the young Pentuk had been forced to defend herself, but
not until after he had cruelly hurt her and scorned her, not until after he had
brutally entered her. That Crown Prince, D’rad’ni had explained, had come close
to death from the encounter. But the damage had been done. The case had come to
the High Queen’s attention and she had taken pity on Pentuk and had brought her
here to recover and receive schooling.

And
then the
olbey
’woman
had looked him straight in the eye and said that the High Queen had asked that
he
oversee the
rest of the girl’s recovery. And all he could do was stare at the girl in
sympathy and numbly nod his head...

That had been a long time ago, almost seven cycles.
Rukto had begun his care for her by leaving her exactly where she was, not
trying to move her or coax her in anyway. Wondering at the wisdom of having a
male in charge of her, considering what she had been though, but not
questioning the decision of the High Queen, he had called in mostly female
novices to help with her. The first thing he had told them to do was to bring
food, a pallet and clean clothing, and to push the books she had chosen closer
so she might reach them. He had had more books on the same or similar topics
brought and also pushed within her reach. Then he took up resident across the
lain
from her, leaving the door open (so she would not feel trapped) with female
novices just outside so that if she bolted, they would be ready to follow her.

“And
just follow,”
he had cautioned them sternly.
“Nothing else. Don’t try to stop
her or lure her back. Warn everyone to leave her alone and stay out of her way.
When she finally stops somewhere, keep your distance and one of you come and
get me.”

Thus prepared, he had approached the frightened
adolescent Pentuk and told her in as kind a voice as he could that she should
feel free to eat or read or sleep as she pleased. She, of course, cringed away
from him, but he paid that no mind and went to his side of the lain to read.
After a while he had closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. And soon he heard
her drag the books and food closer and start in on both, though he could feel
her eyes touch his face every so often. And he had smiled to himself.

He turned the
lain
,
his study, into a little suite for her, complete with a privy and bath expanded
into the corner and a small
av’an
created, all
by the use of rites. He had food and clothing brought in regularly, and more
books on many diverse topics, all by girls close to Pentuk’s age. And he
himself came every turn at
zenith
and read in
her company, and talked to her, even though she did not answer. He shared
interesting little facts and told her stories, explained his duties and joked
about his age. And slowly, he saw her begin to respond, first to the novices, ‘
tunning
thoughts to them, though she still shied from talking, and then, finally, to
Rukto himself.

That was when he brought in Denyo, a kind, sensible
boy. Rukto had explained her situation to the male novice outside of her
presence and asked for the boy’s help re-acclimating her to the other gender. A
clever, innovative, and ever genial boy, Denyo had an infectious grin and the
propensity for telling the most ridiculous jokes and stories. So they staged
the boy’s entrance, the excuse being some errand for Denyo to run. Pentuk had
reacted with fear and had withdrawn again, as Rukto expected; but he kept
sending for the boy. Eventually she became used to his presence. And one turn
Denyo came in from an errand and stopped to share a funny story with his
teacher. He had done this every time he had come, but this time, as they
laughed, they heard an answering giggle from her corner of the
lain
.
They had shared a secret, triumphant smile.

After that Rukto had arranged for Denyo to come in
when he himeslf was not there, to see if she might open up to him.

And one such time, as he listened at the door, he
again smiled in triumph. Denyo had gone in and asked in an exasperated voice if
the senile, heat-touched old geezer had wandered off again and forgotten that
he had sent the much-abused novice on some long and wearying errand, only to
forget he had done so and had gone off and started something else by the time
Denyo returned. He could almost hear the grin on Denyo’s face and in his voice
as he asked Pentuk genially where the old book-gara had got to; for, evidently,
she responded.

“Oh, he went that way, huh? Well, I’m sure he can
find his way back again. In the mean time, I get to rest my feet and talk to
you, my delightful dear. So you liked my story the other turn, did you? Well,
it was absolutely true. You wouldn’t believe some of the things that happen to
me! Like, for example, just this morn...”
and from there the novice spun,
complete with sound effects, the most ridiculous yarn of mishap and ill fortune
ever to befall an unwary and totally blameless novice. Within a san’chron he
had her laughing helplessly, and in two, though she had been there for
two-thirds of a season without doing so, talking.