Fire Sanctuary

by Katharine Eliska Kimbriel

  “Are you all right?” he asked, grabbing Zair’s choker chain.

  She stifled a groan and quickly sat up. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there. Did I hurt you?”

  He realized her distress was genuine. “Nothing that will not mend on its own. You merely startled me out of a sound sleep. So the lake agrees with you?” he went on, his voice quiet.

  “Oh - yes! I’ve never seen so much water before! It was so dry on our world—we had one public pool on the whole planet! We took sponge baths. I never dreamed of so much water just to look at!” She hesitated a second, and then spoke again. “Thank you for letting me stay. It’s almost impossible to be unhappy—“ she cut herself off; so someone had told her about Enid.

  “It is all right,” Braan answered gently, pained for her embarrassment.

  She looked away, steadying herself. Then she turned back to him, her direct gray gaze meeting his. “I am sorry.”

  Suddenly another person was beside them. It was Ronüviel. “I could not come any sooner, I took the children from Elana and left them with Moran and Lyte. Moran has been through this before with his father....”

  “I have been sleeping,” Braan said quickly. “Please assure this woman that my shins are sturdy and will not suffer from being soundly kicked. Teloa, my sister Ronüviel.”

  Roe smiled. “We have met. Ignore him. He will try to make you feel guilty just to tease you.” Seeing that Braan had dealt with the situation, if only temporarily, she went on. “I hate to interrupt your meditation, but Baskh Atare needs you. We are summoned.”

  Braan arched an eyebrow. “Does he know of our findings?”

  “No.”

  Braan stood, drawing both women to their feet. “Will you please excuse us?”

  “Of course.” And they left Tay standing by the water while they headed back to the palace, Zair a dark shadow at their heels.

  PALACE

  COMPLINE

  Baskh Atare sat carelessly, as he always did, the symbol of his birthright twinkling fitfully in the soft light. He did not touch it; unlike his predecessor, he never toyed with his chain of office. His full attention was on Roe, his deep green gaze boring into her, the square jaw jutting forward, the big vein in his forehead throbbing visibly. “Well?”

  It was Braan who answered first. “The Nova was followed north, and on its return voyage as well. We were wrecked not by the storm but by sabotage, and our group was pursued across the ciedär and into wadeyo county. Only the presence of the off-worlders saved both Roe and me. I do not think two could have stopped a crazed Durite, weak and dying though he was.” Having gained the man’s undivided attention, Braan tonelessly narrated the findings of the trip. Baskh closed his eyes through the recitation, unnaturally quiet as Roe outlined the records and spoke of Tinyan, Carad and Quahna’s fears.

  “I think I see a part of this,” Baskh said softly as the two trailed off. “Deveah’s paranoia has crossed from sadness into danger. After the festival we shall have him hospitalized and observed. That puts a large dent in Corymb’s plans. It was long before your births, my friends, but Corymb once attempted to unseat our house by popular vote. Now he tries other ways.” He straightened in his chair. “Something I have always worried about ... Do you not think that having our yearly air raid drill during festival is a good idea?”

  Braan began to smile.

  “When people are away from home, unfamiliar with area shelters?” Ronüviel paused. “Yes, I think it is an excellent idea.”

  “We may have a tenday yet—or no days. I want no alarm, but that precaution I demand. Tomorrow morning, Amura time, planet-wide. Now ...” He gestured with fingers of dismissal. “I must think, and plan. It will be in my private memory bank in case ... something happens to me. You and your siblings shall all receive it in your homes, tonight or by prime.” He turned to Braan, who had stepped near the throne, and gripped his arm. “My sympathies, friend. At the least, you are both free. Tonight is the ceremony of family. Let us go and sing praise for what joys we have received.” He stood stiffly and indicated that they should follow him.

  The bonfire behind the temple flared suddenly as they stepped out into the night. Ronüviel came up and slipped an arm around Braan as they stood motionless, watching the funeral pyre of Enid. They slowly moved toward the Mendülarion, where the balance of their family awaited them. Moran met them on the walkway, Asiai and Dylan clinging to him and trying to appear in control, as befitted royal children. The man was a little pale - Roe embraced him, knowing that memories of his father’s death haunted him. Then Braan lifted Asiai and, taking Dylan’s hand, followed Baskh Atare up the path and into the Mendülarion, the great hound Zair waiting patiently outside the door.

  AMURA STREETS

  FOURHUNDRED THIRTYTWODAY, 4952, TIERCE

  Teloa was up early the last day of the festival, though Kee was already well into the sky when she finally left the temple complex. Elana had been harried as she brought Tay firstmeal, but she had promised to meet Tay in the market at the flower stand corner - at four bells? Teloa considered the meeting, and decided she had said four bells—tierce. The doctor had not volunteered any information about her uneasy state of mind. A direct question, however, revealed that all of her children had a childhood sickness, and a houseful of cranky little ones was not what Elana needed the day of elder ceremonies. She added that Arrez’s fourthwife, Chaka, was worse, but Shinar was with her. That assistance, as well as knowing that her son Kire would represent her family at the evening services, seemed to relieve Elana immensely. Tay’s offer to help was politely turned down, and Elana sent her off into the city with a gentle reminder not to eat or drink anything from the bazaar stalls.

  oOo

  Kee was bright in the autumnal morning and looked deceptively warm. Teloa pulled the woolen poncho close and was glad for the protection. Was it only sevenday ago that she had arrived on a sweltering summer day? Now winter was before them. Her idle walk into the center of town put her in the bazaar before she knew it. Color swirled before her eyes. Cloth, clothing, jewelry, leather goods, luxuries, foods and plants were heaped on every stall. Tay soon forgot what planet she was on in her delight at examining everything. Several dealers tried to interest her in foodstuffs, and one charming gentleman offered her a free glass of newly-pressed native grapes. She regretfully turned down the offer, thankful her illness had passed and desiring no reoccurrence. Elana had warned her to move slowly with Nualan foods. As if perceiving the situation, the man gaily told her to return “in a few days, when no touch of Nuala deters you!” He whirled to face his friends at the press, and Tay chuckled when she realized they were trying to empty last year’s wine bottles to make room for the first harvest.

  She made her way to the flower corner, grateful the bazaar was one area that did not close en masse for the festival. There were stone benches near the roads’ intersection, and Teloa claimed one for her own. She was again aware of the admiring stares of several men and was surprised by it. The only women she had really seen were Elana and Ronüviel, and both had a unique beauty. She decided to watch other women to see if she was truly unusual or if it was only because of her blonde hair. True blondes, undyed and free of genetic tampering, were very rare.

  The feeling of being observed was so intense, she turned around and found a tall, attractive blond behind her. He was dressed in an Axis Forces uniform and held an exotic flower in his hand. “You look much happier than the last time we met.”

  She stared at him, her eyes cool, trying to place him. The launching bay, of course, but his tone hinted at another place.

  He offered the flower to her. “Second Officer Lyte. We met at a private party on Pacra II.”

  “I am Teloa.”

  The warrior nodded, flashing an unexpectedly charming grin. “A new name, a new destiny—I’m glad for you. I always thought you deserved a lot more.”

  Tay bristled inwardly, but the man appeared quite sincere. Her mind flashed back to Pacra II ... p
arty? It was an experience, the celebration to end all celebrations. She had accompanied the crown prince, a stupid man but a pleasant host. Lyte had been ... “You were one of the crown prince’s bodyguards,” she said aloud.

  Lyte laughed. “Like I said, you deserve much better. I can’t remember his name either. May I?” He gestured to the bench and, at her noncommittal reply, carefully sat down. “This is native to the planet. A firerose. Pretty, isn’t it?” He held it out to her again. “It’s all right—this is a no-strings-attached flower.”

  Tay smiled. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m still very tired and —”

  “You’ve had enough of men telling you how beautiful you are and meaning something more.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Not even a simple, early dinner?”

  “Not even dinner,” she replied, amused. “I can’t really eat the native food yet, anyway.”

  “What’s wrong?” Tay stared at him blankly. “The tension is wound in you like a spring.” His bluntness disconcerted her, and she turned away. “It’s all right. Seriously, that’s not my standard line. I don’t mean to offend you, but I’m a trained sensitive, and I can’t just turn it off when I’m off-duty. I meant what I said. I’ve been riding hard through the desert for two days, these crazy Nualan timetables have me pacing nights and falling asleep in my soup, and you’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen in a long time—you and this flower. I wanted to see them together.”

  She wordlessly took the firerose from him. “Thank you,” she finally managed.

  Lyte slowly stood. “I’ll be here for awhile, and probably back in thirty- or sixtyday. If you feel like a night on the town, find me. I may even find you. I’ll be able to take in the native restaurants when they open tomorrow, and I intend to ... Have a good festival.” He left, moving a bit stiffly, and Tay did not doubt his story about the desert. A confident man, one not threatened by rejection.

  “You allow even that only on your own terms,” Tay whispered aloud.

  “Allow what?” Tay glanced to one side to find Elana sitting down next to her. She was watching Lyte’s disappearing form. The off-worlder heard the sound of the great bell in the temple, tolling through the music of the carillon. “So you have met Lyte,” Elana went on. “A character, is he not?”

  “A charming one.”

  Elana smiled. “It is second—no, first nature with him! Shall we go see Lars, the head planter?” The joyful look on Tay’s face said all that Elana needed to hear. She gestured for the woman to follow her.

  oOo

  The fields were a soft russet, floating with the almost indiscernible haze of morning. The reflection from the parallel irrigation ditches was like a row of gemstones. Tay drank it all in, feeling the slower life style of the planters revolving around her. She was oblivious to the conversation between Elana and Lars. Huge mechanized implements were digging the furrows for the winter grain planting. It was a collective of sorts; why waste planters on things machines could do? Lars had greeted her with enthusiasm. His warmth had not disguised the probing nature of his conversation—it had been in the form of a test. Teloa was not concerned; she had not forgotten the feel of a seedling between her fingers, and it showed in her speech. She would be valuable here. The joy of that thought bit through her. She knew that finally she could work in experimentation, exploration, on the things she had briefly touched upon as an apprentice and despaired of ever doing again.

  When Teloa looked to Elana, the doctor was smiling. “I must return to the city. It is lastday, and the Feast of the Elders. Since my family is ill I am allowed to miss services, but I should be with them!”

  “Feast of the Elders?”

  “Lastday is the time when the two oldest children of each sex in each family unit must go to a service of purification and thanksgiving. The first son and daughter are always dedicated to Mendülay, and the second son and daughter to the people. Arrez is first son, I second daughter. Only Arrez and Kire shall represent us. Next year! I took the liberty of asking the Atares to bring you back—there, Liel! Will you come here please?” Elana called. Turning to Teloa, she quickly whispered, “Kalith, Kavan and Liel are here for the Elder Day Feast, which is the official beginning of the harvest of grapes and berries and the time of blessing the new plantings. I think you will like them. They are still wild enough to have a good time—even during a solemn festival! And they see Enid’s death as a time to rejoice in the freedom of her soul, so do not worry about that.” At that moment the young Nualan woman came up to them. “Liel, this is Teloa, a newcomer to our world. The Serae Liel,” Elana said informally. Teloa was dismayed and looked it.

  The youngest Atare laughed. “Liel is fine. You are a planter, I hear? I am also interested in the plants. We will make an afternoon of it!”

  Even as she finished her speech, a strange, high-pitched noise began. It pulsated, like a foghorn, but was swifter and more penetrating.

  Alarmed, Lars grabbed Teloa and Liel by an arm and started running down the irrigation ramp, Elana in close pursuit. “Quickly, to the raid shelters! This way!!” he shouted over the noise, dragging the half-paralyzed Teloa down a short flight of steps. With Elana’s help, he pulled her through a set of double doors and down another staircase. At the bottom they all halted to catch their breath, Tay folding to the floor. Although the doors were still open, more workers pouring in, the alert was now muffled, as if from a great distance.

  Elana stooped to Tay, reaching as if to reassure her. “It is all right now, we are safe here, as safe as—“ She stopped when she realized the woman was calmly surveying her.

  “I thought it was luna bombs. I couldn’t bear that again. But I can’t hear them. Anything else I can take, but not luna bombs ...” Teloa stared off then, her beautiful face blank. “The horror of those things ... When the whistling is so high-pitched it hurts - then our doom is upon us.” Elana raised her head and turned; the sound had changed to one constant tone. Then silence.

  “That was the all clear,” Liel whispered. “It was a drill. I wondered if we might have it during festival, while everyone was in strange territory. We are safe.”

  “Are we?” The planters looked at Tay, puzzled. “How do you know when it’s the real thing?”

  “I suppose ...” Lars began. “The alarm will keep sounding ... until it is knocked out, or there is no one left to hear it.” He extended his hand to pull her to her feet. “We live with it. We do not dwell upon it.” Tay stood and started past the planters up the steps.

  TEMPLE HEIGHTS

  VESPERS

  The star was low in the sky when Arrez finally started for the temple. Throwing up his hood, he hurried down the flagstone streets and into Oldtown, where the wealthier Nualans lived. The procession started at the foot of temple hill, and the catwalk was not working. The long way was necessary for appearances; the sight of the high priest charging down the grass knoll was not ceremonial. As he rushed down a hill, he saw at the bottom three figures. Two were in robes, and one wore the usual attire of a wealthy southerner. Arrez glanced up, and thought for a split second one was a priest—his robes were reflecting as Arrez’s did. Then, shocked, he stopped in his tracks.

  The trio apparently did not see him. Arrez instinctively moved closer to the building, trying to catch its narrow shadow. He recognized the towner who faced him—Corymb. The other two were wrapped completely in their robes, bands tying a long strip to their heads. Arrez knew if he were closer, only the eyes would be visible. A white ciedär robe, and a beige one ... only one man or woman of the Ciedärlien wore white robes. The Dragoche ... Baakche, the Dragoche of the Ciedärlien clans. To think he would enter Amura! With his shadow, undoubtedly the current chief of security - his best assassin. The tall, white-robed figure turned and slowly continued down the hill, the slighter individual following. Corymb returned to his home, and soon the pathway was deserted except for Arrez. The priest stood frozen and then went on down the street. He had seen Corymb’s wife
earlier, and she had told him Corymb felt unwell and would not be at services. Arrez could wait. And find Braan after services.

  Chapter Eight

  FOURHUNDRED THIRTYTWODAY—LASTDAY, 4952, VESPERS

  Teloa was not really paying attention to the twins’ bantering. They had drunk just enough wine to be light-headed and were ribbing each other mercilessly, Kalith bringing up Kavan’s appreciation of lovely women and his brother retaliating with a list of the new wines—all of which Kal had sampled. Tay was more interested in their younger sister, Liel. The girl was remarkably unspoiled for being the youngest of ten children, treating Teloa as a sister. Tay could see Liel had been protected; there was a naive sweetness about her, an awe of the outside world that stopped just short of being provincial. Walking back to the city, they had been shy of one another, the presence of a guaard inhibiting conversation. But Braan’s dog, Zair, had proved to be a bridge between them. Both loved animals, and now that he knew the off-worlder, the beast responded to Teloa’s affection wholeheartedly.

  Their speech shot from one topic to another. Teloa was convinced Liel had never conversed with an off-worlder before, other than ambassadors and her in-laws. She was intensely curious about everything, and once the Atares thought they had given their guaard the slip, Teloa talked freely to her about the Axis Republic and the neutral worlds. Liel absorbed every word and gesture, clearly fascinated by what to her were strange customs and stories. She did not pry, however—Teloa wondered if children learned early not to question off-worlders about their personal past.

  Conversation suddenly ceased, as if by mutual agreement. They were content, walking the silent streets of lastday, ignored by other pedestrians. The festival would end at dawn, the new year begin. Time enough later for the twins to face leaving; the Gerrymander did not raise until prime.

  There was something strange in the brilliant crimson orange of starset. Tay felt it but could not single it out. Zair also seemed restless. The air was different, heavier. She heard frequencies that were not familiar. Teloa stopped walking and faced the starset. She looked beyond it, above it, waiting for final, irrevocable proof.