Fire Sanctuary

by Katharine Eliska Kimbriel

  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.

  Chapter Fifteen

  GAREDOC

  TWOHUNDRED TENDAY, VESPERS

  Ronüviel stirred restlessly in her seat and stifled a yawn. It was not that she disapproved of the formalities. As far as baptisms went, it was remarkably relaxed and informal, without losing any of its dignity. But the last thirtyday had been exhausting, and the temptation to sleep was almost overwhelming. She had been up all night with the babies. Moran had helped her as he could, bringing them to her when she simply could not walk another step; he had changed, held and talked to them. But he could not feed them, and that was what they needed right now. At least she could feed them together.

  The ceremony had reached the important part, the appointing of special guardians. Other than the naming, this was what the crowd wanted most to hear, and the two actions followed on each other’s heels. Ronüviel carefully sat up, still more tender than she would admit. Yet Elana had assured her that she was mending properly and swore she would bear again. But not right away—Nualan fertility was delicate and sporadic, and very few women bore children closer than three years apart. Having twins often pushed the time back further. Unfortunately Roe’s mother Ila had been an exception to the rule, having borne children as close as a year apart. Roe rather hoped she would take after her grandmother, Chandra, who took twenty-five years to bear her seven children.

  Arrez now gestured to Moran to come take the eldest, his daughter. Moran carefully picked up the womanchild, breaking into his gentle smile at the sound of her coos. She tried to reach for his hair, but he quickly settled her into a low carry. Roe knew he was studying her eyes, already showing the blue and green marbling. These twins were the first children ever recorded with such irises.

  The Ragäree smiled faintly. Only she and Moran knew who the guardians were, a prerogative of the parents; and they had talked long over many days to pick just the right child to go with each person. It expressed their hopes for both the child and the adult, each to gain insight from the experience. Moran was to offer the baby to the woman and indicate to the man to follow to the altar; the ancient symbols gave the nurturing to the woman and the protecting to the man, but Roe was grateful they could work interchangeably. Another onehundred fiftyday or so and Moran could start feeding them solids. And who was fiercer
than the female katt when protecting her young?

  Moran walked out to the huge group facing them, his glance touching every individual, looking for the godmother. He finally stopped in front of Jaacav and gave her his entreating, raised-eyebrow look. Jaac appeared to swallow; she had expected this, because of an off-hand remark of Roe’s. Then she carefully took the bundle, clearly wishing for the protector role. Rarely was the protector a woman or the nurturer a man, though it had been done before. By taking the baby she had agreed to the honor and the responsibility.

  Then Moran turned to look several rows back, and gestured tentatively with a finger. Roe held her breath. Something had been wrong here for several moons, ever since Moran had become reconciled to remaining on Nuala without reprieve. After an argument with Moran loud enough to be heard two rooms away, Lyte had become silent, withdrawn, speaking at length only to Shinar. He still chatted with Roe as if nothing had happened, however. He seemed especially angry with Braan. Because Moran backed him and their friendship grew? She prayed he would not refuse. There was a long pause. Elana, sitting before Lyte’s aisle, was very uncomfortable, even pale.

  The moment passed. Lyte gently moved the woman before him to one side and stepped out. The crowd released its breath. If only this opens up communication once again,Roe thought fleetingly. Days ago they had laughed over it, threatening to make Lyte her godfather both to give him a taste of responsibility for a woman and to keep him from seducing her when she was older. Lyte had passed it off with a smile—then.

  Moran had returned for the manchild and, scooping him up, moved to enter the crowd. He had to walk back quite a few tiers, and the gathering parted like blown sand. Finally he reached the object of his search. Teloa blushed in her confusion, the color brushing her shoulders, neck and face like the touch of a master’s paintbrush. Her brilliant smile flashed out, and she joyously gathered up the tiny bundle. The baby immediately reached up and grabbed a long blonde curl. Tay followed Moran back down to the floor of the garedoc, her pleasure in the child evident. Moran was still searching the crowd, and spotting Braan in the corner near the altar indicated he should come forward.