Destiny's Lovers (14 page)

“You lie.” It was said without anger. The
aged High Priestess leaned her head against the back of her chair,
watching him intently.

“I will not permit access to my thoughts,”
Reid said, bringing a look of surprise to her face. He could not
let her know what Sidra and Osiyar had done together, or what Sidra
had just done to him. Tamat was so old and frail that if she knew,
it would destroy her, and there was no one else but Sidra to take
her place. After this morning’s demonstration, Reid felt certain he
would not last long if Sidra were High Priestess, and she might
well choose to harm Janina, too. Even if she did not, Tamat’s death
would cause great pain to Janina. No, he had to avoid doing
anything that might shorten Tamat’s life.

“I have right of free access, but I do not
believe this matter is urgent enough for me to expend the energy
necessary to cross the barriers you would erect against me. If you
will not allow me to enter your thoughts, then tell me in words,”
Tamat commanded.

“I cannot,” Reid told her. “Trust me, Tamat.
Believe that I will resolve any problem in my own way.”

“I know you are an honest man.” Tamat let out
a long breath. “Keep your thoughts to yourself then. Only remember,
I am not without power.”

If Sidra had said that to him, Reid would
have called it a threat. From Tamat’s lips, the words were like a
promise of help.

“Thank you, Tamat.” She sent him away then,
and he left without another look from Janina, who had resumed her
demure stance by Tamat’s side.

“Child,” Tamat said when the door had closed
behind Reid, “you must end this dangerous attachment. Reid’s coming
has disturbed everyone in the temple and the village, but you most
of all. He is meant for the village women. You are meant for the
temple.”

“I have tried to dismiss him from my thoughts
by every exercise I ever learned in concentration,” Janina replied.
“But since the day I prophesied his coming, he has lodged in my
heart and I cannot tear him out of it.”

“I wish I had never arranged that Test, nor
made the potion you drank,” Tamat muttered. “But unfortunately, I
am unable to foresee the future and so I could not tell that the
result of my actions would be pain and disharmony to your heart and
mind.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Janina cried, going
to her knees beside Tamat’s chair. “What has happened between Reid
and me isn’t your fault, nor his, either. I don’t want you to think
it’s his deliberate doing. It’s just that we knew each other at
once. I feel we were meant to meet. Reid is part of me.”

“Sidra likes him no better than she likes
you,” Tamat said. “I fear for both of you when I am gone.”

“Do you think Sidra made him ill just now?”
Janina asked. “It happened so suddenly, and then, just as suddenly,
he was well again.”

“She would not dare.”

Janina thought Sidra would dare, and
furthermore, she thought Tamat suspected as much, though she would
not admit it. There was something peculiar happening, an intense
undercurrent to life in the temple in recent days. She had been so
involved with her feelings toward Reid and her growing unhappiness
at her own fate that she had walked through her days without
consciously noticing the way Sidra and Osiyar talked in quiet
voices or whispers and abruptly stopped when anyone came near. They
had always done that, for as long as Janina could remember, but
recently the murmurings and sidelong glances had increased. The two
lesser priestesses had changed, too. Philian was now openly fearful
of Sidra and clung to Tamat’s side whenever she could. The other,
Adana, spent most of her time with Sidra. Tamat did not seem to
notice, but Janina was certain the High Priestess knew what was
going on.

Among Janina’s duties was that of walking
into the village each day, to the market by the sea wall to select
fish for the evening meal. The fish-sellers had never shown any
friendliness toward her, yet they dared not be too disrespectful
because of her connection with the temple. On the day after the
twin full moons festival, Senastria had the best fish, so Janina
had to make her choices from the unexpectedly talkative woman.

“That’s a rare man you keep at the temple,”
Senastria said, grinning widely. “He satisfied me better than any
of these village dolts could ever do, and look at the catch I’ve
made today after spending the night with him. He has brought me
luck. I’ve heard that the next time he’ll be lent to us is during
the dark moons festival. I’ll be first in line at the entrance,
waiting for him.”

Janina laid the fish in her basket and turned
aside, unable to make any answer that would not embarrass her. She
was not to be allowed to leave the marketplace easily, however.
Anniellia stood blocking her way, legs spread, fists on her hips.
Janina stopped, but Anniellia was not interested in her.

“You only had him for a short time, and after
I had already finished with him,” she told Senastria. “I had him
for most of the night, and I can tell you, he nearly broke my bed
with his passion. What a man! What endurance! I’ll gladly bear all
the children Tamat wants, so long as Reid puts them inside me.”

“He was with me longer!” Senastria
yelled.

“He was with me first!” Anniellia
retorted.

“That’s because you dragged him away from the
feast,” screamed Senastria. “He left you to come to me and he was
so eager he couldn’t wait to walk to my house. He took me right
there on the hillside. My back is raw from the rocks we rolled
upon, but he was worth a little pain.”

“Liar!” shouted Anniellia.

“It’s you who lie!” returned Senastria.

“You stupid fisherwoman! Everyone knows you
are barren. I will have Reid’s child,” Anniellia announced
triumphantly.

At that insult to her fertility, Senastria
slapped Anniellia hard. Anniellia grabbed Senastria’s hair and
pulled it. The two women went down, rolling across the pavement of
the waterfront market, shrieking insults at each other. A crowd
quickly gathered to watch them.

Janina walked away, tears streaming down her
face. No one took any notice of her.

Those women had had what she wanted from
Reid, had been held in his arms and kissed, yet all they could
think of to do about it was quarrel. And what of Reid? Had he
enjoyed it? Had he found them lovely? She knew he had only done
what Tamat commanded him to do, and everyone always obeyed Tamat.
She could not blame Reid for what had happened. Still, some part of
her wished he had boldly refused, had claimed he would lend himself
to no one at all since Janina was forbidden. But if he had done so,
he would have been punished. He might even have been set adrift.
She would not want that. If Reid was to live, he would have to lend
himself to the village women over and over again, and she would
have to learn to bear it. She did not think she could.

“Janina, what’s wrong? Who has made you
cry?”

The object of her unhappy thoughts stood
before her in simple grey tunic and trousers. She looked at his
beloved face and it was all she could do to keep from running away
and throwing herself into the sea. Instead, she thrust out the
basket of fish, using it as a barrier between them.

“Nothing is wrong,” she told him. “I’m not
crying, I’ve only been laughing till my eyes watered. Two women at
the market are fighting over who had the better part of you last
night. It was very funny. Half the village is there watching
them.”

“I’m sorry.” He put out his hand to her. She
sidestepped it and left him to hurry toward the kitchen building.
But with her new awareness of peculiar forces operating within the
temple complex, she made note of Sidra standing in the shade of the
temple colonnade, watching them.

Tamat was ill. She lay in her private
chamber, propped up on pillows, unable to rise from her bed. Janina
stayed with her day and night, sleeping but little, and that on the
floor beside Tamat’s bed. She even stayed with Tamat each evening
when Sidra came to make her usually private report on the daily
events of the temple.

“You must know, dear Tamat,” Sidra said on
the second night, eyeing Janina with distaste, “that I only wish
you well again. You need not fear to be alone with me.”

“I have no concern for myself at your hands,”
Tamat said in a weak voice. “I know you love me.”

“Then let me lend you what strength I have,”
Sidra offered. “Come, take my hands and look into my eyes and I
will help you to recover.”

“You would only exhaust yourself, Sidra, and
you need all your strength to manage the affairs of the temple. The
drain on your energy is great since you have taken my place as well
as your own in maintaining the blanking shield.”

“Osiyar has been a great help to me,” Sidra
said.

“Still, I will not consume your Gift for my
personal benefit. Left to myself, I will recover in a day or two,”
Tamat promised.

“She fears,” Tamat remarked to Janina after
Sidra had left them, “that I will die before I have transferred the
ancestral memories to her. If that were to happen, she would have
nothing but her own Gift to sustain her as High Priestess. She will
need, and she will certainly want, much greater power than
that.”

“When will you link your mind with hers?”
Janina asked, hoping it would not be too soon. Tamat would need
time to regain her strength before attempting the Sacred
Mind-Linking.

“I think,” Tamat said after some
consideration, “it should be during the dark moons festival. We
will all have fasted and prepared ourselves for your binding as
priestess. Once that is accomplished, I will give Sidra what she
wants without subjecting her to a second period of fasting. She has
waited patiently, considering her character, and it is well past
the time when I should have entrusted the power to her. I will not
live much longer, Janina. This illness is but a warning of the
future. I do not need the Gift of prophecy, my dear; I can see for
myself what lies ahead.”

Janina was too aware of Tamat’s weakness to
protest what she had said. She wondered if Tamat would live until
the dark moons festival. And then she thought with a shiver that
once Sidra had the ancestral memories, her oft-asserted love for
Tamat would be severely tested, for Sidra would have no more need
of Tamat. Only love would make her keep the High Priestess alive
then.

Further, Janina knew that although once she
was bound as a priestess, she would be physically safe from Sidra,
there was much Sidra could do to torment her mind. When Tamat
finally drifted into slumber, Janina crouched at the foot of her
bed, laid her head on her hands, and wept silently in despair and
fear.

Reid came to visit Tamat the next day. Seeing
how weak she was, he stayed only a short time. He left believing
she would not live much longer. From what he had learned of Sidra,
he was convinced that he and Janina would not outlive Tamat by many
days.

He had tried to stay away from Sidra as much
as possible because of his disgust at the way she had broken the
spirit of her sacred vows during the full moons festival. Osiyar he
could not avoid, for they lived in the same house and the man was
his instructor. Partly because he had grown to like Osiyar, Reid
believed the illicit relationship between the High Priest and Sidra
was mostly Sidra’s doing. He thought Osiyar lacked that air of
falseness which to Reid’s perception was so great a part of Sidra’s
personality. To lend credence to Reid’s conviction about the
difference in character between them, Osiyar now went about his
duties with an attitude of controlled tenseness which Reid
interpreted as guilt.

That evening, Philian approached him as he
stood alone in the courtyard watching one half-full moon set while
the second moon, also half-full, still rode high in the purple
sky.

“Tamat wishes to speak with you,” Philian
said.

“Is Janina with her?” Reid felt the
quickening of his heart that occurred every time he knew he was to
see Janina, but Philian shook her head.

“Tamat has sent Janina to her own chamber to
rest, and she is sleeping soundly,” Philian said. “I am to tell you
also that Sidra and Adana are completely engaged in maintaining the
blanking shield, while Osiyar is busy instructing the
scholar-priests in ways of controlling the Gift. You and Tamat will
not be disturbed.”

Wondering why Tamat wanted a second interview
with him in one day, and a completely private one at that, Reid
followed Philian into the temple.

“Wait outside my door,” Tamat instructed the
lesser priestess. “Let no one enter, not even Sidra if she should
come here.”

“Yes, Tamat.” Philian closed the door behind
her.

“Sit on the side of my bed, Reid.” When he
had obeyed, Tamat went on. “There are eight days left until the
time of the dark moons, when Sidra will draw the disk and crescent
tattoo on Janina’s left breast, and I will personally bind upon her
wrists the golden ropes that will change her from a mere scholar to
a lesser priestess. I will tie the unbreakable knots of gold, as my
great-aunt once tied them for me.”

Tamat paused, closing her eyes and waiting,
as though she expected some comment. Reid could not make a sound.
The thought of the unspeakably vile Sidra being turned loose to
stab Janina’s tender breast with a needle stopped his voice most
effectively. After a moment of silence, Tamat continued, keeping
her eyes closed.

“On that night, we will celebrate the dark
moons festival. Janina, as our newest priestess, will be the guest
of honor, and you, Reid, will once more lend yourself to the
village women.”

Still Reid said nothing. He began to wonder
if Tamat knew he had not really lain with either Anniellia or
Senastria at the full moons festival, and if she was planning to
scold him about it and perhaps threaten some punishment if he did
not do what she wanted at the coming festival. He was not expecting
her next words, nor the charge she laid upon him.