MOONDOCK

by Jewel Adams

  Wiping a cooling cloth over the gentle creature’s brow, “Are you and the Nemows the evil?” She would watch and let the answers find themselves. Then she would decide want to do.

  Chapter 5

  Learning The Ways

  Waking with a start. Melane came to her knees among the rich collection of exquisite furs.

  “Where am I?” Shaking her head to clear away the traces of sleep, she tried to bring the strange memories forward.

  “Ah, Melane, you are awake.”

  The voice didn’t match the image. No, she saw Shemon in her mind.

  “I am Tarra. You will remember soon enough. But before that, how would you like a hot bath?”

  The pleasurable prospect seemed to bring forward all the twinges and stiffness inside her. “We rode all night.”

  “And day, from what Wylan told me.”

  “You are his mother?”

  “Yes. Now come, Melane, you will feel much better after soaking. I have some wonderful oils.”

  The promised luxury outweighed Melane’s objections and she moved to follow the woman. The striking ache inside her, forced a surprised gasp to escape her lips.

  Tarra rushed to the girl bent over on the floor. “Melane!”

  “I…hurt.” It took an effort to raise her head up to the woman. “Did I injure myself? I don’t seem to remember.”

  Why did his mother look as pale as she felt?

  “Can you walk? The bath will help.”

  Accepting the woman’s help, Melane hoped she was right. She never experienced such cramping and pain in that particular place.

  “There now, relax and let my oils do their magic.”

  “Are you a healer?”

  The lady’s laughter was as gentle as her voice. Yes, she remembered her now. Tarra had been with her during the night. “The dream, you were there when I walked in the dream.”

  Trying not to appear concerned, Tarra poured the healing oils into the steaming water. “Swirl it around Melane, so it soaks into your skin. Yes, I was with you during the seeing dream. Do you remember it?”

  Did she?

  Melane closed her eyes, letting the water ease away the aches deep inside. She remembered something, something about Tarra and some other women, but the images disappeared into tiny flickers of light against her closed lids.

  In its place, the sure form of Wylan came forth. “I see him, with his men. They speak of war. Wylan is concerned, but not for the battle…I can’t…” Melane’s hands started rubbing her arms against the chill, but the steam was opening her pores with its heat. “I feel so much evil. It’s black and moves only as a shadow. No form…vile thoughts against Wylan. No one can hear the cruel voice. I can feel the hate…he wants Wylan’s life.”

  The girls cheeks glistened with the falling tears.

  “Don’t try any longer, Melane.”

  Opening her eyes. “You must tell him, warn him.”

  “You already did, last night.”

  “Then he did see me.”

  “No, Melane. After the dream you spoke out, Wylan was near, and heard.”

  The girls cheeks turned a rosy tone over the revelation.

  “Do you dream the seeing sleep often, Melane?”

  Shaking her head, “Not like last night. I have never felt it so strongly before, like I was actually moving through it. I could touch and feel, even though no one could see me.”

  “What other powers do you have?”

  Shrugging, Melane laid her head back. “I do not know. Shemon said I hadn’t allowed them to come forward. That I should open my heart and hear Sabrina’s powers inside me.”

  It was odd how easily she spoke in front of Wylan’s mother. And how she knew Tarra held knowledge of her and Shemon, of everything. The answers were there, but Melane couldn’t focus on Tarra’s image, trying just exhausted her.

  “You are still tired.”

  “The dreams always leave me feeling like this.”

  No, she would not tell her how dangerous this one had been for her. Melane was lacking any guidance in the forces she possessed.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Better, your oils are wonderful. It must have been a dream.”

  Melane watched the lady who seemed lost in her own thoughts. She was much like Shemon. A very graceful woman and very beautiful. Her hair was dark like her own. Melane knew where Wylan received his black eyes. They both held such expression in their gazes. Where Wylan’s eyes filled with pride and so often his anger with her, Tarra’s gaze held only concern and gentleness.

  When the lady held up a drying robe for her, Melane was relieved not to feel more than tenderness when she rose out of the cooling tub.

  “I laid out a gown for you. When you are ready, join me out on the sun porch for our lunch.”

  Melane was glad Tarra left and couldn’t see her reaction to the gown. Holding the sheer layers of rose color up against her skin Melane wasn’t sure what to think. A tiny part of her rebelled at such finery, but a stronger more feminine instinct loved the exquisite textures she never touched before.

  The soft material fell in whispering veils of heavenly pinks about her. The bodice crossed over each breast to the shoulders, falling in a train down her bare back. Cords of braided gold held the sheer layers in place. The skirt touched her toes and when she moved the gown molded itself to the lush curves of her thighs in the most revealing manner. Turning in a neat circle made the lengths rise and swirl about her in a breathless cloud. Not even the Syrons wore such rich garments. This was very different from her leather armor and though her legs were usually bare Melane actually felt more exposed in the dress.

  Finding the comb Tarra set out for her, Melane combed out the long lengths of her hair until they dried in the warm air. Coiling a length about her head like a band she let the balance of ebony waves cascade down her back. The dainty satin slippers fit and were surprisingly comfortable, but slick against the cool marble floors.

  It was a beautiful room, very large and open, taking advantage of Wylan’s ocean. Yes, that was the word he called it. The marble was almost a perfect match to the brilliant blue water.

  Stepping out into the bright sunlight Melane let her eyes sweep over the majestic sight.

  “It is beautiful, isn’t it Melane?”

  “Oh yes, Tarra. I have never seen anything so alive, so big.”

  “I have lived my whole life beside it. Everyone here has, but I doubt we appreciate it as you might.”

  “It’s as if it is whispering to me, telling me secrets I never imagined could exist.”

  “And is it speaking to you now?”

  Laughing over being caught at saying something so foolish, Melane took the seat Tarra gestured to. “It says, welcome Melane.”

  “And does it tell you to eat, before you perish?”

  “Of course, the air taste of salt.”

  “The water from the ocean is full of salt and very warm.”

  “And beautiful.”

  “Sometimes it can turn into a raging beast. When the storms come, they are quick and fierce. Always watch the horizon, at first it will only seem like a faint line of haze, but soon great billowing giants of gray clouds roll in.”

  “The gods must get very angry.”

  “I think it is the openness, like a great playground and they toss lightning bolts back and forth like children throwing a ball.”

  Tarra caught the worried frown on the girl.

  “Melane, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “No, it is not the gods, though I will remember to watch.” Leaning forward her thoughts were too troubled to remain quiet. “I saw children in the streets yesterday, male children.”

  “It is true.”

  “We have none…male babes.”

  “And no males, Selams, in Cibrac?”

  “No.”

  “I had hoped to let you feel more at ease, but we must talk of these differences, Melane.”

  A terrible heaviness
settled around Melane for what she felt coming.

  “Melane, you are far too intelligent not to have realized how different life is in Moondock.”

  “I have felt the way Wylan was with me.”

  “But you cannot understand?”

  “No! He acted as if I was…” Melane couldn’t find the right word.

  “Inferior?”

  “Yes…and something more.”

  “He is the man. All Selams hold the conviction that elamies are but possessions.”

  “Slaves?” Melane was aghast at the idea.

  “No, not the way you mean. We live here with certain rules, very strict ones.”

  “For the elamies?”

  “Yes.”

  Neither spoke as Melane tried to grasp exactly what Tarra was leading up to. “And me, how does this affect me, Tarra?”

  Melane’s fingers curled about the chair arm to prepare for what she expected.

  “To a Selam, you are an elamie. It doesn’t matter where or why you came to be here, you are perceived only as an elamie.”

  “And as such?”

  “A possession.”

  The girls sharp intake of air was only the first indication of what Tarra knew would soon follow.

  “Melane…”

  “No! I am not what you say. I won’t be. I won’t allow it.”

  “You have no choice.”

  Her head shook to stop the woman’s words. “I will fight.”

  “Without your sword? Even if you secure a weapon, do you honestly think you can defeat a Selam?”

  She wouldn’t listen to the truth she already faced.

  “Melane, you can let your anger rule your actions or you can listen to me and learn.”

  Glaring at her. “Learn what Tarra? How to serve your son?”

  “I won’t color over what is ahead for you. Yes, Wylan has the right to claim you.”

  “You mean--own me.” Melane hissed out the truth.

  “It is much more than that Melane. To a Selam an elamie is an object that has many sides.”

  Remaining there and listening to the woman took every ounce of Melane’s control. Common sense told her she needed to understand what Tarra wanted to tell her. Only then could she protect herself.

  “Melane, please listen and hear everything before you draw conclusions.”

  “You ask much of me, but I will hear you.”

  “Selams are not cruel men, they know no other way than what has been passed through the generations. Much like your society, Melane.”

  “We do not have slaves.”

  “No, but you have classes, sects, they are not much different. Only ours is more obvious because the division is between male and female. You see, we have both men and women in our race, but unfortunately five times more men than women. For many years there were great fights between the Selams over the elamies. Men died for what another held. It became so terrible many elamies were being killed in the conflicts.

  To correct the situation, laws were passed. At first the laws were harsh and unfair, because the people weren’t use to the new way. Through the generations, the hate fell away and peace brought acceptance.” Tarra raised her hand to stop Melane’s question.

  “It was decreed that all elamies were free spirits, to be claimed by a Selam. Now this Selam just didn’t walk up and say, ‘she’s mine’, that wouldn’t be fair considering there may be another Selam with the same intent. So, it was stated that if a Selam claimed an elamie, he had to publicly state his claim before the populace. In this manner, any challenger could also step forward and state their intention concerning the same elamie. Once all intentions were posted, the claiming rites began.

  “Each man is paired off to fight. The victors are set against each other until only two remain. The winner has earned the right to claim the elamie.”

  “They actually kill each other?”

  “Only in the most heated rivalries. Normally, it is a matter of the strongest winning. As you have seen, our Selams are very strong.”

  “But the elamie has no say in who she wants?”

  “Normally, no. But Melane, I have never heard of any objections by an elamie for the victor. These Selams do not take the claiming lightly.”

  “So, the elamie is actually a…mate?” The word stuck in her throat.

  “No, an elamie can be claimed many times.”

  Melane rose to her feet over the horrible thought.

  “Child it is not what you think. They don’t fight on a whim. Another claiming only occurs if certain rules are broken. And when it happens it is usually the elamie that instigates it.”

  Tarra had to laugh at the girl’s incredulous wide eyed look. “Now doesn’t it make sense that if one is not pleased with her Selam, she should find another? So she does, by openly parading about until another Selam decides to claim her, usually these things are arranged in advance. Sometimes it is such common knowledge that there is no challenge.”

  “Not even from the first Selam?”

  “He is probably relieved to be rid of the unhappy elamie. Many times a Selam will bestow an elamie as a gift.”

  “To be rid of her?”

  “Yes, though there are usually reasons.”

  “I can’t imagine!”

  “It is accepted, you will find very few objections to the practice.”

  “But what of the children.”

  “As you probably saw, they remain with their fathers. The mother may of course visit freely, but the practice has been much better for the children to remain in one home.”

  “How can an elamie give up her child?”

  “Many do not Melane, the majority never leave the man that first claimed her, but circumstances do happen.”

  Tarra knew she must continue while the girl was still open to her words.

  “There is another law, one that protects the elamie. It can only be evoked one time in her life and the step she takes is so monumental that many never consider this alternative.”

  “Is it that horrible?”

  Tarra’s laugh was filled with the memories that sustained her. “Only to those that fear what life offers.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Melane, if what you wanted was held out before you to take--if you only had the courage to ask, would you reach for it?”

  “If I truly wanted it?”

  “Yes, regardless of the risk.”

  There was no thought to contemplate. “Yes, I know I would. Should I turn away from my only chance and regret it all my life? That, would be a worse fate than not trying.”

  Nodding at the girl. “I reached, Melane, I took the chance and to this day I have never regretted my decision.”

  ~*~

  Pacing the room, Tarra’s words kept drumming in her head. “This can’t be real, I’m actually contemplating doing this.” Was it just the alternative that she feared would become her life in this place? “I just don’t know.”

  “Wylan.” Holding her fist to her head Melane refused to listen to the answers. “Reach out. I will not be a possession to be discarded like some whim!”

  No, Melane heard what Tarra tried to make her understand. Wylan would claim her no matter what Melane wanted. There was a chance, a way that she could enter this as an equal…the rites of purity.

  Closing her eyes, Melane forced away the ugly memory now clearly embedded in her mind. There was still the soreness, telling of what happened. It was over. What she faced this night held more importance. It meant her life.

  Wylan could deny her claim against him. Her knees shook at the thought of how he’d take her announcement. “Doing to him what he plans for me.”

  His fury would fill his ocean’s vast expanse. His pride would rear up against her like a ball of fire. If she survived his wrath, Melane held little hope she’d sustain the blow of his expected refusal.

  To fall prey to whoever claimed her was something Melane couldn’t allow.

  If he betrayed her and refused her clai
m, somehow she would escape the fate that followed. Not even the well hidden guards about her would stop her flight to freedom.

  “No wonder few elamies took the chance.”

  Tarra was a brave woman to have faced Wylan’s father. She told Melane how she’d been caught by Cristare outside her father’s gate chasing a pet mog. How scared she had been. And the brutal purity test that followed.

  “Thank you Tarra.” The drug left only a vague memory of what transpired and Melane felt grateful. What she still faced scared her beyond thought.

  She hadn’t seen Wylan all day. If only she could see what his eyes held for her. The unknown became pure torture.

  “Melane?”

  She jumped at the voice.

  “Child I’m sorry, I should have knocked.”

  “It is I that am sorry. I have never felt such apprehension, not even when I went to battle against the hateful Kibras.”

  “Have faith in him, Melane. He has too much of his father in him to turn you away. Just remember what I told you. Do not show any fear when the others step in.”

  “You are asking me to look as if they please me?” Melane couldn’t keep the distress out of her voice.

  “Yes. Oh Melane, you are so naive, I wish I had time to explain things. Just do it, make Wylan believe you could accept another.”

  Melane couldn’t believe how the woman spoke about her son. She wanted her to claim him and yet, act as if she didn’t care if he accepted?

  The girl’s eyes mirrored all her confusion, leaving Tarra frustrated that their time together was over. It had been all she could do to get Melane to accept her fate as it stood. She knew the girl would try to escape if Wylan refused her, and she worried that maybe she was wrong in making Melane do this. She could get hurt or killed should this fail. Tarra knew her son and her conviction about how he would react to Melane wouldn’t be stilled. “Listen to me. If he even suspects your feelings about his acceptance, he will deny you.”

  “But…”

  “Please Melane, you have no idea how many times I have seen him turn away from an elamie because she made the mistake of showing him she cared too much.”

  Other elamies? A fierce rage soared at the thought, confusing Melane even more. She couldn’t possibly be jealous, berating herself for such a thought.