Authors: Flora Speer
Tags: #romance, #futuristic romance, #romance futuristic
Janina saw Reid’s mouth tighten. An angry
flame sparked in his grey eyes. For an instant she thought he would
turn on his heel and leave the central room of the temple, or
possibly even try to escape from Ruthlen itself.
“You need to master your proud spirit.” Tamat
had also seen his anger. “It is an honor to be required to
sacrifice yourself for the community. Accept our will, Reid. Do as
you are told.”
“It is not my community.” He was just short
of open defiance, though still respectful of Tamat.
Janina held her breath, hoping he would do
nothing to merit severe punishment. Surely Tamat would not want to
punish him on this of all days, when his co-operation was so vital
to her plans. “Nor is blind worship of two dead moons and an
overlarge star a religion I can believe in,” Reid added.
“The moons are not dead,” Sidra declared.
“They grow and change and then dwindle as the days pass. They rise
and set at differing times, until the evening comes round when they
rise and set together. On those sacred nights, they are either
bright disks or else so dark they are only barely discernable. Are
not such changes proof of life?”
Sidra regarded Reid with so much scorn that
Janina feared the priestess would strike him. She trembled, waiting
to see Sidra’s hand rise. It was Tamat who soothed Sidra’s temper
and Reid’s pride.
“You need not believe as we do, Reid,” Tamat
said. “Only respect our beliefs. That is all we require of
you.”
“I can do that,” Reid said.
He still did not look happy, but when Tamat
dismissed him he bowed politely and went away with no further
protest.
“He will be difficult to control tonight,”
Sidra said, looking after him. “He is too independent to do what
you want of him, Tamat.”
“He is a young and healthy man who has lived
a celibate life for many days now,” Tamat responded. “Give him a
few cups of batreen and a willing woman, and he will not resist for
very long.”
“You may be right,” Sidra said. “Janina, why
are you standing there listening to words that cannot concern you?
Go to the kitchen at once. You were to help Philian with the bread
baking, and you are late, as usual. Tamat dear, let me help you to
your bed. You should rest before the great effort you will make at
moonrise.”
Janina found Philian hard at work.
Preparations for the feast had begun at dawn, when several of the
village women had arrived at the temple kitchen to lend their hands
to the mixing and kneading and cooking that needed to be done.
“When it’s time to take men tonight, I’ll
chose Reid,” joked Senastria, one of the fisherwomen, who was well
known for her love of men and her wild ways. “I like danger, and he
looks dangerous to me.”
“You have enough danger on the sea,” retorted
her friend Anniellia, slapping a pile of dough around on the table.
“You worry about the sea monsters and leave Reid to me. I shall be
the one to give the village its first dark-haired baby. He’s so
big, that Reid. Do you suppose that means -?” She glanced at the
priestesses before whispering something to Senastria. The two of
them went off into a fit of laughter.
“Stupid, crude fools,” muttered Philian to
Janina. “All they ever think about is lending themselves to
men.”
Janina punched harder at the lump of dough
she was kneading. She was angry with herself because she was as
wicked as the two village women. She could think of nothing but
Senastria in Reid’s arms, kissing him while he put his hands on
her. He would surely choose Senastria. She was much prettier than
Anniellia.
For most of that day, Janina tried to shut
her ears against the women’s talk about lovers and their
comparisons of the sexual skills of certain village men, mixed with
speculation about Reid. She was greatly relieved when Sidra sent
for her in late afternoon to help Tamat dress, so she had an excuse
to leave the giggling women.
It seemed to Janina that Tamat was more
fragile than ever. The aged hands shook often while Janina and
Sidra robed her, and as soon as her headdress was arranged, Tamat
sat down, looking as though she might not rise again.
“Dearest Tamat,” Sidra said, “you are unwell.
Shall I put on the headdress and go out to the people in your
place? The walk to the beach will tire you badly.”
“You are not High Priestess yet, Sidra,”
Tamat said with unaccustomed irritability. “Janina, help me to
stand. Sidra, call in the lesser priestesses. It is time to
go.”
Despite her frailty, Tamat walked out of the
temple with her usual dignified composure, nodding to Reid, Osiyar,
and the two scholar-priests when they joined her. Moving to the
entrance of the temple complex, she greeted the villagers who
waited in the gathering twilight, then stepped onto the ceremonial
road and began the procession to the beach with Osiyar by her
side.
Reid fell into step next to Janina. “What
will happen at the beach?” he asked in a low voice. “Osiyar has
told me nothing except to bathe and put on clean clothing, and then
do whatever I am told to do.”
Janina could see Sidra walking just behind
Tamat and Osiyar. After her came the lesser priestesses and the
scholar-priests. From that distance Sidra could not hear anything
Janina and Reid might say, so they were safe from her scolding or
criticism. The villagers who followed the group from the temple
were also too far away to eavesdrop. For the next few moments it
was safe to speak to Reid.
“I wish you well this night.” She spoke
quickly. “When Sidra tells you to kneel, do so at once. Beyond that
I cannot advise you or explain what will be done. It is a power
given only to those who are full priestesses or priests. Because I
am not a telepath, I will never be capable of understanding it, nor
will I be able to do what the others do. The ceremony is intended
to honor the full moons, and tonight Tamat will also ask for new
life to be given to Ruthlen.”
She gave him a quick, slanting look. His face
was flushed with anger, and she thought perhaps with embarrassment,
too. Had she been in Reid’s position, she would have been horribly
embarrassed. She forced herself to stop thinking about the village
women, or wishing she could be one of them. She had her own destiny
to fulfill. As always, she would obey Tamat, even if obeying broke
her heart.
Side by side, Janina and Reid walked in
silence past the tumbled rocks of the headland that separated the
beach from the rest of Ruthlen. They had almost reached their
destination. Janina could think of nothing more to say to Reid that
would not cause her, or him, great pain. There was nothing either
of them could do to change what Tamat had commanded to happen this
night. It was Reid who found words.
“Janina,” he said, “I promise you I will
not—”
She put up her hand to stop him, fearing that
someone might overhear whatever he had been about to say, for now
they had stepped off the end of the road and were walking across
the sand. Tamat and Osiyar were standing together at the edge of
the water, with Sidra just behind them. The other priestesses and
the scholar-priests took their places behind Sidra.
“Come here, Reid,” Sidra ordered. “Stand
there, close to Tamat.”
Janina remained alone, outside the half
circle formed by white-clad backs. She did not belong in that
circle, nor did she belong among the villagers. So it had always
been. She stayed where she was, in case Tamat should need her.
In unison, Tamat and Osiyar began to raise
their arms just as the full twin moons rose, one after the other
into the clear, purple-blue sky. The moons gave almost as much
light as the sun, but in contrast to the sun’s orange-gold glare,
this was a pale, silvery light that pleased and rested the eyes.
The ocean foamed pure white as it reached the shore, while farther
out smaller waves sparkled silver in the trails cast by the
moons.
Tamat and Osiyar, still acting in unison,
lifted their arms over their heads and held them there. Emanating
from their fingertips, sparkling particles of light began to pour
in silver profusion, falling around the two figures at the water’s
edge until they were only indistinct shapes seen through flowing,
glimmering beauty.
Janina heard the villagers’ indrawn breath,
then heard them falling to their knees in reverence, for though
they were all telepaths, too, and had witnessed this ceremony many
times, no one else had ever possessed the richness of power that
Tamat held in her mind. With Osiyar’s strength added to Tamat’s,
the spectacle the villagers now beheld was one of awe-inspiring
wonder.
Then Sidra and the other priestesses all
raised their arms, using their combined power to call down more of
the moon-silver. The light they achieved was not so bright as that
of Tamat and Osiyar, but still the space around them glittered and
glowed.
By that light Janina read on Reid’s
astonished face all the mingled delight and amazement he was
experiencing at his first sight of the full power of Ruthlen.
Watching Reid, knowing he could not partake of the sacred ceremony
any more than she could, Janina did not feel her usual sense of
inadequacy and loneliness. His eyes met hers across the space
separating them. He smiled at her through a sheen of glittering
light. Janina smiled back. It seemed to her that the silver power
of the telepaths dimmed and receded into the distant background.
She saw only Reid and his longing for her, while in her open,
innocent face and eyes she showed him her own hopeless yearning for
him and knew he understood her emotions as she understood his. Then
Sidra moved, chanting an ancient hymn, and Janina’s visual contact
with Reid was broken.
The light enveloping Sidra and the lesser
priestesses faded. Sidra, still chanting, motioned to Reid to
kneel. There followed a moment when he did not move, during which
Janina wondered if he would defy the priestess. Then he went to his
knees, but so awkwardly that Janina considered the possibility that
Sidra had forced him down by the power of her mind and was holding
him there on the sand.
Now Tamat turned from the sea, lowering her
arms over Reid until the veil of silver light flowing about her
fell across his bent shoulders like a mantle.
“Thou shalt bring new life to Ruthlen,” Tamat
intoned, “Strength and health and vital life.”
Tamat’s arms fell to her sides, the silver
light around her dissipating. At the same time, the light
surrounding Osiyar was gone, too, leaving a pale, tired-looking
man. Tamat staggered in weariness. Osiyar and Sidra took her
arms.
Tamat stiffened her back and pulled away from
them. “I am perfectly well,” she said. “Come, Reid, walk beside me
so the villagers may all see you. It is time for the feast.”
It seemed to Janina that the return to the
temple took a long time. She walked alone, isolated between the
inhabitants of the temple in front of her and the village folk
behind her. The warmth of the day had given way to coolness, since
the season was turning toward the dark time of year. She shivered
in her sheer, sleeveless white robe and was grateful to the two
scholar-priests who ran ahead of the procession to light the giant
bonfire that had been laid outside the entrance to the temple
complex. Its warmth was welcome.
Soon the smells of hot vegetable and fish
stews wafted across the festival area outside the temple wall, and
piles of steaming, fresh bread were brought to the tables to the
delight of the hungry villagers.
Amid the cheerful, noisy crowd, Reid and
Janina stood together, not speaking. Reid’s face still held an
expression of wonder at what he had seen at the beach. When his
look met hers, Janina felt as though they had pledged themselves to
each other during the ceremony just completed. But how could that
be when they were fated to be torn apart on this very night, when
he must go to another woman’s bed while she returned alone to her
virginal duties in the temple? She was fully aware of the way the
women were regarding Reid’s tall figure and whispering among
themselves about him.
“Reid, come with me,” Sidra ordered. “You are
to sit over there. Janina, you know where you are supposed to be;
why aren’t you in your place?”
As Sidra led Reid away, Janina noticed
Senastria and Anniellia watching him closely. Dry-eyed and suddenly
angry with fate, she went to stand behind Tamat, who waited
patiently at the center of one of the long tables until the
villagers had seated themselves and then quieted enough to hear
her.
“The harvest will be a good one this year,”
Tamat said to them at the close of a short speech of welcome.
“Therefore, feast and take your pleasure tonight, for the days
ahead will require hard work from all of you, farm-folk and
villagers alike, to fill our storehouses against the coming cold
season. Let us celebrate the fertility of the land and the women of
Ruthlen, and the continuation of our Chosen Way.” She then sat down
in an ancient carved armchair.
Pitchers and jugs of batreen were brought out
to cheers and applause. Tamat was given the first cup. She drank it
down without stopping, apparently gaining strength from the healthy
brew. All of the priestesses, along with Osiyar and the scholars,
then each drank a cup, after which the feasting began in
earnest.
Sidra had seen to it that Reid was seated at
another table from the one where the priestesses were, to give him
the opportunity to talk with as many village women as possible.
Knowing what he would shortly do with one of those women, Janina
could not look at him again. If she did, he would surely see her
pain and might be tempted to do something that would result in
punishment for him. She directed her attention toward Tamat instead
of Reid. But she could not help seeing on Tamat’s other side that
Sidra and Osiyar were whispering together.