NUAMURA FIELDS
ONEHUNDRED EIGHTYDAY, TIERCE
Ronüviel heard the carillon chime four bells. Lord, only tierce—what with the heat, she felt as if it was mid-afternoon instead of mid-morning. The bitter cold of the short winter seemed far away. The Amurans had been up since lauds, working feverishly to finish the winter harvest before the monsoons hit. Roe opened her eyes to look toward old Amura and beyond, to the sea. It was dark, threatening. Rain was coming, long, hard rain; and after the rainfall ended, the spring planting would begin.
“Do you mind company?” She looked up. Moran stood next to her, stripped to his joqurs and glistening with sweat. She offered him her water gourd. “Thank you.” He took a drink and then settled down under the towering bush for a rest. The eyes studying her were intense. “You have been healing again. You need to conserve your strength. How is Elana?”
“Better. I was able to ease the stress and control the alpha wave pattern.” She flexed her fingers, a faint glow briefly touching the tips.
“Why can you do that?” His voice was neutral, and her reply was a blank look.
Roe shifted her weight. “You have never asked me that before,” she answered. “And it is usually the reason off-worlders do or do not talk to me.” She studied her hands, wishing she could use some of the energy to ease her own discomfort; she knew the effort would only tire her more. “We suspect it is a modification of the sini gene. A mutation of the mutation, if you will. It is the same form of radiating heat, but instead of destroying the body and anything near it, it actually improves health. I do not feel like I really heal anything. It is like using a low-grade electrical charge to speed the recovery of a bone break, for instance.” She looked distant. “It can be a burden, too. I was always on the outside looking in while I was at Helix University. People envy it, resent it, fear it. Or put great demands upon my time and talents. I cannot work miracles, I cannot keep the dying alive. But people get strange ideas about what can and cannot be done. It does have one blessing attached, though.”
“What is that?”
“Never has it been recorded that a family line has had a sini appear once a healer has been born. That is comforting. It would be like a knife in the heart, to lose them after carrying them so long.”
“Gid has remained close to his family,” Moran objected.
“Gid is an exception. He and his sister were placed together. It made things easier for them to get to Tolis once a year. It has always been awkward, the crossover generation, no matter which way the child travels.” Conversation ceased as she spotted Braan and Teloa, walking together in the vineyard and talking softly. She looked over at her husband, her eyes sparkling.
“You look very pleased,” Moran told her, trying to tone down his own smile.
“I admit it. I like Tay; I love her. She is a survivor—she would make a good Atarae.”
“Then why doesn’t Braan confess she attracts him and do something about it?”
Roe shrugged. “He thinks he guards his heart. In the meantime Tay steals his soul. She is so beautiful, I believe he keeps his distance so she will not fear she is just one more body. I have a feeling there has been too much of that in her life.”
“That’s an understatement,” Moran agreed.
Roe shot him a sharp glance but said nothing. Teloa’s soft laughter floated to their ears. Her laugh was like murmuring water in a shallow creek bed. Only hearing her speak in Caprican was more soothing. The language was swifter and smoother than her humor, but no less delightful. Such a game those two were playing: Tay seeing other men; Braan no longer beating off the flocks of women constantly in attendance.
“Oh!” The whisper escaped before she could control it.
Moran sat up, visibly concerned about her continuing false pains. “Bad?” he asked. She reached over in reply and tightly gripped his hand. “Breathe properly.” The spasm passed, and her fingers relaxed. “Another false alarm?”
“I am very tired, belaiss. Can we start back to the caverns? Zair’s lady hound is whelping, and Prinz promised me a puppy for each baby. I think everyone knows it is twins, if he does.” Moran braced himself behind and to one side of her, helping her to her feet.
Suddenly Teloa was there, her face lined with concern. She reached for Roe’s arm. “Are you all right, Roe? You look pale. You’ve been walking too much, let’s get you back to your room.”
“I think that is a good idea,” Roe gasped. “I do not want these two coming before they are good and ready.” She glanced over at her brother, now deep in conversation with his son Dylan. “He shall be a godfather before he knows it.”
“He’ll be wet before he knows it, the rain’s coming. Let’s move!” At Moran’s command they started across the field toward the foothills. It was usually a ten minute walk, but Roe knew she would not be able to move at a normal pace. They looked up to see a face briefly appear at the cavern entrance. Roe bent her head to concentrate on walking but was not surprised when Kavan arrived at her side.
“Let me,” he said quietly to Teloa, and the tall woman sprinted ahead of them into the cool darkness.
“I do not think ... this is false labor,” Roe got out, doubling over in pain. Kalith was also visible before the cave, his normally expressionless features tense. Together the three of them were able to get her into the cavern and up to her room.
“Good thing some of the family units are completed,” Kavan said as they set Roe on her bed. “A little privacy is nice.”
“Sure, if you want a room to yourself, get pregnant,” Roe replied, gripping the sheets to stop her hands from shaking. “I think I would have reconsidered living on top, if I had known how hard it would be to get up those stairs. I should have demanded they finish the lifts.” Too much pain, too soon. Please, not so soon.
Elana entered the room. “Thank you. Good-bye, Kal and Kavan.” She was activating her monitor as she spoke. A few adjustments and she turned to the now present Teloa and Liel, asking them to bring various supplies and two other healers. Then she whirled to Moran. “You are timing?”
“I had nothing to time with, but she’s breathing properly,” he answered, reaching for the timespot on the built-in shelf.
Shinar breezed into the starlit terrace, radiating confidence. She was not as heavy as some so far along. Roe’s grip tightened on Moran’s wrist as she gave in to another contraction, oblivious to everything else.
“Liel, I want the Atare guaard on this door. And Braan must be found—he should witness the birth of his heir. Good-bye, this is going to take awhile,” Elana said.
“Moran, talk to me,” Roe suddenly said.
“No, you talk to me” was the reply. “You said at firstmeal you had a new story, one about Baskh’s predecessor. Tell it!”
“A story? Now?”
“Better than thinking about the pain. There’s time until the next contraction, I’ll give you plenty of warning,” Moran went on. He settled onto one elbow, his head bent close to hers, neither paying any attention to the healers bringing in the standby equipment. Roe took a deep breath and then began to speak, her voice taking on the mysterious and vibrant quality of a master mythmaker.
“Long ago and worlds away, from the second year of the reign of Curr Atare Moonraker, greatest of the modern sea monarchs, comes a tale—“
oOo
COMPLINE
The small group watched as Agape rose into the dome of the heavens, taking its place above Eros and Philios. Three very slender crescents, their sizes varying depending on how much of Nuala blocked off Kee’s light. Already moonrise. Thunder rolled ominously in the distance.
Gone. The moons. Lyte had only glanced away, and now blackness. The thunder roared louder. A hand touched his shoulder, and Lyte looked up to see Teloa.
“The rains come. As long as the planet is good to us, we have a chance,” Tay said quietly. “Are you ready for a thirtysixday of rain? Liel says sometimes it’s like that.”
A splatter of rain hit his hand, and then another. He pulled back from the ledge of the terrace, staring out to greet the downpour. Steady and hard but not deafening. The thunder still growled, low and menacing. Lyte averted his gaze as a many-forked tree of lightning leapt across the sky. He caught himself wondering if it would strike the mountains.
He knew Moran had been a nervous wreck since vespers, when Elana had determined a possible need for surgery and had thrown both father and ruler out of the sleeping room. Shinar had explained why—another off-worlder married to an Atare serae had panicked recently during a delivery, and with the possible heirs, Roe’s first, no chances would be taken. It was a matter of state. Lyte knew “matters of state” could rarely be swept aside; he often forgot that Nuala was a functional, not a symbolic monarchy. But next time Moran would be present. As father of the future Atare or Ragäree, or both, Lyte knew he would gain power, which he would enjoy using in just such cases. So long for babies to be born. And Roe was fragile. Braan said that once, that she continued on willpower alone.
The rain grew harder. Moran turned slightly to Braan. “The harvest is complete,” Braan said, anticipating his question. They both flinched as a great thunderclap shook the room.
“I thought babies were only born during storms in stories,” Lyte quipped.
“I was born in a storm,” Liel replied. “Elana says her deliveries ran about fifty-fifty. And she prefers storms, or just after. She says it takes her mind off the pain.”
“That sounds like Elana,” Arrez began warmly. “She ...“ The priest hesitated only a moment, but it was long enough for a thin cry to intervene. The crowd grew silent, listening to the fragile life gain volume in its first protest to the world.
How long until the next? Minutes or hours? It seemed like only seconds later that Shinar came out of the bedroom. Every face except Moran’s turned to her as another voice rose to replace the first. It was somehow harsher, more emotional, but clearly a different sound. Moran stood and moved toward the partition. Smiling, Shinar indicated he should wait a few moments before entering.
“Have I an heir?” Braan asked.
Shinar laughed. “Covered on both accounts. Mendülay has blessed us. Atare and Ragäree to be, and our Ragäree shall be fine. The womanchild is elder, by almost twenty minutes.” Shinar sobered a moment. “One was a breech, and caused some anxious moments. But the tearing was mild, and surgery not necessary.” The small crowd relaxed, conversation bursting from them. Lyte glanced around; Moran had vanished.
oOo
The room was not as dark as the terrace, and Moran blinked quickly in the light. A glow had been activated—a true glow, flickering in the wall’s recesses, as mysterious as ever. Roe watched him from beneath veiled lashes. So tired ... He cautiously sat down on the side of the bed, reaching across to support himself by leaning on the other side.
Roe shifted and completely opened her eyes. “Well? I had almost forgotten what my hipbones felt like. I think the womanchild looks like my mother.”
“I hope they both look like you,” Moran answered. “Father thought I was a homely baby.”
Roe smiled and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. “No chance,” she murmured, delicately touching where the starlight had begun to bleach his hair blond.
“Did I ever tell you you’re incredible?”
“Please, not that old line,” Roe replied, touching his lips with her long fingers. “It may be painful, but it is instinctive. The body works up to its last breath.”
“Let’s not talk about last breaths—I’ve been a basket case” was the answer. He bent over to lightly kiss her shoulder. “Jaac never did come. Did Braan say her mother ... died?”
“Bearing? Yes. It is a very rare thing. Less than one in, oh, thousands....” She drifted a bit. “I am so excited! What a father you will be!”
“I want to pick one up, but I’m afraid.”
“Do not be. They are much more durable than they look. Just remember to support the head,” she whispered, closing her eyes for a moment.
“I know—I’m one of eight children, remember? This is different.” He brushed her hair out of her face, pulling a long strand to the side of the pillow. “Don’t sleep yet, they’re hungry.”
Her eyes popped back open. “Who says I have to be awake to feed them?” He looked disconcerted at her words. Moran heard Elana enter the room from the sanitation, and swiftly kissed Roe. Then he leaned over the low-slung cradles. A tiny fist waved furiously above a soft tazellehide blanket. Moran carefully pushed aside the flaps of leather and took in his first view of the infant. So little, no bigger than a moment. The hair was very long and dark blond, but the eyes were screwed so tightly shut he could not look at their baby blue. Not crying, but definitely displeased. Roe chuckled at her husband’s expression.
“Hello there. I think you’re hungry,” Moran managed softly. The second one was no less active but calmer, more testing the new freedom of movement than protesting.
“That big fellow on the left is your son. And this lovely lady your firstborn,” Elana said, reaching down to touch a downy hand. “She was quite upset about the arrival, but now I think she likes us. See how her eyes seem to look at you?” Ronüviel had been noticing just that; and also the deep original blue irises of birth, with darker marbling that foretold the Atare eyes, though they had not expected that pattern. “She is very aware, very alert for so small a child, and so is he.” Reaching in to touch a wisp of her hair, the same toasted honey of his own, Moran scarcely seemed to hear Elana finish: “I think soon they will want to nurse.”
Moran scooped up his daughter and turned to Elana. “You were wrong,” he said evenly, his face expressionless. “I should have been there.” Roe tensed, waiting for what would come next.
Elana lifted the manchild and resolutely faced him. “Yes. You should have. But that does not change the decision. When the house of Atare is involved, I must choose. Miri’s husband panicked. I could not take the chance. Though you are a warrior, you are off-world, and it is unlikely you have witnessed a birth. The pain of a comrade and the pain of your mate are very different things to deal with. I am sorry you had to sacrifice. Next time shall be different. I hope you will come to understand my position.” She nodded regally as she handed the now shrieking manchild to Ronüviel, confident Moran would accept her words. Roe watched him out of the corner of her eye as the baby sought a breast.
It was clear that Moran did not like Elana’s words, but he had no choice but to accept them. Moran looked down at the womanchild. She regarded him with round eyes, seemingly oblivious to her brother’s howls.
“It’s practically a new world,” he whispered to her. “I’m sorry it’s such a mess, but I’ll do the best I can, and that’s all I can ask of you. I wish you weren’t born to all of this, but ... maybe it’s better to know your duty beforehand than have it dumped on you later.” He faced the window, careful not to bring her too close. “See out here? Up and beyond? Beyond the Axis, the war, everything. That’s truth, God. And I’ll show you as much of it as I can. We all will.” She gurgled, slapping at his shirt with soft pink fingers. Moran looked up and held her out to the waiting Elana. “I feel ridiculous. She can’t understand me.”
Elana smiled knowingly, and gestured for him to give her to Ronüviel. “Of course she can.”
MT. AMURA — UPPER POOLS
ONEHUNDRED EIGHTYONEDAY, LAUDS (MOONSET)
Teloa stood panting, leaning against the sheer rock wall. Then she was able to examine her surroundings. So this was the famous northeastern upper pool. At that moment the first rays of the Kee escaped the cloud cover and struck the waterfall. Tay gasped in amazement as a million rainbows broke out, casting their glow everywhere. Careful of the deep mud caused by the heavy rainfall of the night before, she walked into the stone glade.
Now Teloa could hear the other waterfalls, higher, farther to one side; they wrapped around this section of the mountains like ribbons, with similar pools on the western slopes. Roe had mentioned that there were caves here, too, reaching all the way to the other side, if one knew the inner paths. This was Ronüviel’s place of atonement, her rock of prayer and solitude. The Caprican was uncertain whether the Nualan God would speak to her here.
Starting at matins, the garedoc had been filled with the faithful, coming to be anointed with the healing oils. It was a simple ceremony, the Feast of Atonement and Anointing; a blessing and prayers, and then the touching of face, eyes, ears, lips, heart and hands with the ointment. This was supposed to be followed by exposure to the elements of Nuala. For the infirm and less fastidious, this entailed stepping outside for a few moments. For those with deeper faith, or the weight of many sins upon them, the procedure was usually to find a high, windy place of rock and earth, within reaching distance of water, and wait for the touch of Kee’s rays. There was special rejoicing this day over the birth of the twins.
Tay shivered, digging deep into her poncho. The akemmi stirred, chirping peevishly. High, fluffy dark clouds swept by overhead, bringing back a touch of winter. She hoped the heat of yesterday was not a fluke. For a brief moment, she had imagined that she was back on Capricorn V, working the irrigation trenches. Better not to think too long on that image. It brought back good times, true; but also sister Meer’s scorn, and brother Tyr’s degeneration, his churlishness when he found her passage on the Gerrymander. And where was her little brother Telen?
The clouds to the west, coming from the distant sea, were black. More rain, and more—they needed it so badly. She continued to climb in the grey light of morning, uncertain of where she was going. A scrape of nails against rock told Tay that Zair was finished with whatever curious night scent he was stalking and had caught up with her. Tay found herself in the middle of numerous pools and falls and sat down, enchanted. Like spun gossamer, glittering in the rising star. How wonderful that Kee was rising earlier once again.
As she looked off to one side and down the steep drop, she saw several people sitting among the new greenery. Surveying the whole scene, she noticed in front of and slightly above her a familiar profile. Tay stared a minute or two; his back was to her. The man was meditating, and she was shocked to realize he was naked. Ye gods, the cold! She shuddered at the very thought. This person must feel a need for the total purification of the star’s rays. Her thoughts ended as she recognized Braan.
She sat quietly, intrigued, occasionally looking for a hidden guaard as Kee swept up into a glorious starrise. When the star had topped a distant mountain pass, Braan moved to his knees and suddenly threw his arms wide, embracing the dawn. Then he whirled and in one fluid motion dove into the dark pool behind and below him. Teloa cut off her gasp and quickly began to climb down.
It took longer to reach the lower pools than she expected. When she reached the edge the lapping rings were quiet. Staring into the water, she considered what horrors lurked beneath the mirrored surface, what sharp-edged rocks ...
“Looking for someone?” She nearly jumped off the stone shelf. Turning regally, she found that Braan was already dressed in a desert caftan, a towel over his shoulder, his feet bare. He looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him, despite having been up all night. “The water is warm.”
She reached down and forced herself not to jerk back. Not cold but certainly not warm. “Only if you’ve been sitting out for several hours. Does having an heir give you the right to contract pneumonia?”
Braan smiled wickedly. “No chance. Mind over matter. Mendülay spares me for some other end. Have you made your peace with the Almighty? The day of atonement has its superstition attached, but there is something about the purifying, healing oils that is guaranteed to make one feel better.”
“And you need to feel better?”
“In a sense.” He looked out over the starrise. “I feel clean again. But I shall have to answer for it in the end.”
Tay regarded him steadily. “You’re not-guilty. You’re not blaming yourself for everything that’s happened, are you?”
It was Braan’s turn to be surprised. “No. I am not so conceited as to think that one man could claim responsibility for all this, though it is the place of the ruler to carry his people’s burdens.”
“Carry, yes. Absorb, no.”
He did not seem to hear her. “I am here because of many things, but mostly because I terminated a life, and there is nothing that can make up for that.”
“It was self-defense. I think God forgives a truly repentant heart, even of so serious a sin.”
“Perhaps.” He started down the slope, Tay following. “Thank you for your concern about my body, but I have been diving in that pool since I was a child, and I check for shifting rocks each time I come up here. There is a pole behind the fall, if you want to do it. Always check first. One of my relatives did not, and broke his neck.” Braan glanced over his shoulder. “Why did you climb up here?”
“Because the caves are a closed feeling. I need to breathe occasionally.”
He nodded. “I intend to build my quarters inside up here, probably on the western slope. I need the view.”
Zair butted Teloa’s legs, and it brought her back to reality. So strange to be so close to him, and not a business recorder in sight. She wondered what he was thinking.
Fool! It is a beautiful, crisp morning. Why did you not stay up there and talk? Braan mentally kicked himself.
They descended in silence.
THE CAVERN
ONEHUNDRED EIGHTYTWODAY, SEXT
Such an enclosed feeling, a cavern. Lyte shook his head to clear it of dark thoughts. If he was not careful, he would become as nervous as Moran. Glancing up from the wall he was chipping smooth, he looked over at his friend. The man’s discomfort was visible, sweat trickling down his temple. He was tired—two days without sleep—but he was trying to concentrate on his work, giving his all for Nuala. The thought annoyed Lyte each time it occurred to him. Damn planet.
Braan walked by him, his shirt dark with perspiration from digging. The Nualan stopped by Moran, murmuring a word or two. Moran laughed softly and kept digging. Braan moved on.
He is digging like a slave and doesn’t even care. The joke between the two men pushed annoyance over into irritation. Lyte attacked the wall with renewed vigor, enjoying the ring of metal against stone. The heavy machinery was destroyed, they had no choice—
Craak! The sound of the splintering handle was shocking. Lyte stumbled from the shift in weight. A short, violent oath escaped him.
“Are you all right?” Moran asked.
“No, I’m not!” Lyte shouted, throwing the rest of the handle to the ground. Moran just stared at him. “When are we going to do something about leaving this God-forsaken planet?” He no longer cared about the Nualans working nearby.
“How?” Moran queried.
“Don’t say that! I’m sick of hearing it! Doesn’t anyone else want to get off this rock except me?” Lyte heard his voice rising.
“Wanting to is different from—”
“You could care less! You’re not even trying! You don’t care if you never get off this planet!”
Moran looked hesitant. “It is now my home, but—”
“Home, dak balls! You’re more Nualan than they are!”
“I’ve got two kids to think about—”
“So do I.” The last was a hiss.
Moran’s face became unreadable, and Lyte knew he was trying to control his explosive temper. “Lyte, I’m sorry we can’t—”
“Sorry? You’ve even decided to jump into politics, old apolitical Moran! You follow that Atare closer than his guaard. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d become a boot-licker—” Moran’s hand shot out, seizing Lyte’s shirt in a commando grip. Surprise softened Lyte’s shouting. He waited to see if the man would snap and attack him.
The bio-control held. Releasing the shirt, Moran said flatly, “I am not going to leave this planet to starve. Until that problem is solved, I don’t want to waste strength even dreaming about ways to get off here. If you have to think about it, keep it to yourself.”
“Just watch me.”
Moran had already turned and was walking away. Lyte did not attempt to follow him.