by Speer, Flora
“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.
Chapter 8
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.
“The day after that festival,” Tamat said, “as the newborn crescent moons begin their ascent into the evening sky, Sidra and I will perform the most difficult task for any telepaths. During the Sacred Mind-Linking, I will transfer to her all of my memory. Everything I received from the previous High Priestess’s memory, back to the time before Ruthlen was founded, and all that I have learned during my own lifetime, will become Sidra’s memories also, to use as she wishes. The act of transference will kill me.”
“No,” Reid said, taking her hands, thinking this had to be the time to reveal the truth about Sidra. “Tamat—”
“Do not tell me I will live for many years yet,” Tamat instructed, opening her eyes at last and looking into Reid’s face. “I know how much strength I have left, my friend. It will be just enough for the Mind-Linking. Oh, my body may breathe, or even eat and appear to be awake for a few days afterward, but my mind will be broken beyond repair. I have left the task until too late you see, because I always secretly hoped Janina would be capable of following me. But it will be Sidra. There is no one else.”
Reid dismissed any thought of revealing Sidra’s pe
rfidy to this valiant old woman who already had a deep sorrow to bear. He squeezed her hands, wishing he knew how to lend her his strength. Tamat smiled at him, and for an instant he wondered if she knew his thoughts.
“I lay a command on you, Reid,” she said. “I have tried to assure Janina’s continued well-being by allowing her to become a lesser priestess even though she lacks the Gift. Once her wrists are bound with the golden ropes, she should be safe from harm by anyone in Ruthlen. Before the Sacred Mind-Linking, Sidra must make a vow to care for and protect all the priestesses. But of late I have begun to doubt Sidra’s good will. Her desire for complete power, her lack of compassion for those weaker than herself -” Tamat stopped, swallowing hard. Reid thought he did not need to tell her about Sidra. In the blue eyes that never left his face he saw a despair too deep for words, and he was convinced that Tamat knew all about Sidra.
“There is no one else,” Tamat whispered again, so softly that he had to bend nearer to hear her. Then, after a moment’s pause, she spoke once more. “Reid, I command you to use all means necessary to protect Janina after she is bound as a priestess. I might have asked Osiyar, but he is weak in certain ways. You are the one I trust. You are strong and clever.” The wrinkled eyelids closed again in exhaustion.
“I promise,” Reid said, “that from the moment you bind the golden ropes on Janina’s wrists, I will protect her from any harm whatsoever, even at the cost of my own life. Am I to witness the ceremony, Tamat?”
“It is for priestesses only,” came Tamat’s thread of a voice. “Until the binding, and the Mind-Linking, you both remain under my rule, Reid.”
He said nothing to that, and after a moment more she relinquished her grip on his hands.
“Leave me now,” she said in a stronger voice. “Send Philian to me. Don’t speak of this conversation to anyone.”
“I understand.” Reid returned to the temple courtyard, to stand in the silver dimness of moonset, considering all that Tamat had said. She must know how he felt about Janina. By extracting that promise from him, she had secured his good behavior toward the girl. But she had worded her command so oddly. He was to protect Janina, not from the instant he made his promise, but from the moment she actually became a priestess.
Reid believed Tamat when she said that the strain of the Mind-Linking with Sidra would kill her. After the time he had spent in Ruthlen, he also believed that Tamat would never willingly break any of the laws the telepaths had laid down for themselves.
But those who were not telepaths were not obliged to obey the telepaths’ Chosen Way. And it was universally understood that prisoners were not required to obey the laws of their keepers. Tamat knew all of that as well as Reid did. Reid began to think the High Priestess, too scrupulous to enter his mind after he had repeatedly forbidden it, had been giving him a dangerous message in the only way she could, without actually speaking the words. It was up to him to interpret and act on that message.
* * * * *
Time passed rapidly until it was the day before the dark moons festival. Tamat insisted that she was completely well again and would be able to preside at the ritual which would bind Janina into her final vows, and at the feast afterward.
Reid was called to the central room of the temple, where he found Sidra and Osiyar.
“Eat well today,” Osiyar instructed. “Retire to bed early tonight.”
“Drink no batreen at the feast tomorrow,” Sidra ordered, “for when night comes you will be required to lend yourself to as many women as you possibly can, and we do not want you incapacitated by drink. Tamat is deeply disappointed that neither Anniellia nor Senastria has conceived. You must do better this time. You owe us that.”
Reid said nothing, and carefully thought nothing, trying to keep Sidra from reading his thoughts. But once his interview with her was over and he was sure she would be completely occupied with Osiyar, he admitted his anger to himself.
He’d be star-blasted into atoms before he’d go through another night like the last festival! He had spent the past sixteen days as the unwilling subject of innumerable stories about the rivalry between Senastria and Anniellia, and their plans for him during the night of the dark moons.
On his daily walks into the village with Osiyar and the scholar-priests, he had borne the cold stares of the men and the knowing smiles of the women. He did not trust any of them. They had gone too quickly from the urge to stone him because he was unknown and different from anyone they had seen before, to a suspicious eagerness to allow him to father a large part of their next generation. He found it hard to believe they were as subservient to Tamat’s wishes in that matter as they appeared to be. He felt more and more certain that the length of his life would be decided by the length of Tamat’s life, which gave him two to four days more at best.
He was determined to get away from Ruthlen, and he had decided he would take Janina with him. She had become so precious to him that he wanted no other woman, and he would rather die than leave her behind to deal with the power-hungry Sidra. The more he thought about how to do it, the more convinced he became that it was what Tamat wanted, too. He believed that was the message she had tried to convey to him when she was so sick.
He thought almost constantly about ways in which he and Janina might reach freedom. He had heard enough about the horrors of the sea to know there could be no escape that way. The difficulties of procuring and provisioning a boat were further reasons to avoid the sea route, along with the obvious objection Janina had once voiced, that on the open water there was no place for a boat to hide after they were missed and the alarm was raised.
But there were hiding places on land. One of those places would never be searched by villagers looking for him. Even Osiyar could not go there. Only priestesses were allowed in the sacred grove.
Reid took himself to the kitchen building, knowing he would find there the young priestess Philian, who was close to Tamat and who seemed to be a sensible person. When he told her he was hungry, she cheerfully gave him half a loaf of fresh bread and a cup of the hot, brewed herbs called dhia. While he ate, Reid fell into easy conversation with her, hoping to learn from her the timing of the next day’s events, and pretending complete ignorance of them.
“I know nothing of the ritual planned for Janina tomorrow,” he said between bites of crusty bread. “What will be done with her? Some kind of purification first, I should think.”
“At dawn tomorrow, wearing a plain white robe, Janina will go alone to the sacred grove to fetch the Water for her purification bath,” Philian informed him. “When she returns, she will be greeted by all the other priestesses and conducted into the central room of the temple. There she will be stripped and bathed with the Water she has brought. Tamat and Sidra will then examine her to be certain she is pure enough to be a priestess.”
“Does the examination involve mind-linking?” Reid asked, wondering how Sidra could hide her falseness during such a linkage. “Is the tattooing done afterward?”
“You know too much about our rituals already, Reid,” Philian said gently. “I cannot tell you more.”
“I understand. Forgive me if my questions were rude. It is only that I’m interested, since Tamat says I’ll be here for the rest of my life.”
But he had learned what he wanted to know. Janina would go alone to the grove the next morning. Reid planned to be there waiting for her. Somehow he would convince her that they had to leave Ruthlen before she was irrevocably bound as a priestess.
They could climb down the cliff into the ravine, the way he had come. They would stay in the ravine, follow it to its southern end, find land that was more open, and then try to make their way back to Tank’s headquarters. It would take many days of walking, and he knew they might not survive to find Tank and the others. Still, it would be better than being forced to service all the women in the village while Janina was nearby and knew what he was doing, yet was kept from him by vows he felt certain she no longer wanted to take.
�
�Don’t waken me tomorrow morning,” Reid said that night to the two scholar-priests in Osiyar’s house. “All that ritual with the priestesses is nothing to me, and I need to rest for the coming night, when I probably won’t sleep at all. I have been ordered by Tamat to lend myself to as many women as I can.” He spoke with appropriate seriousness, and the young men gravely agreed that he must follow Tamat’s bidding in all things.
Shortly before dawn, while it was still dark enough to provide some cover, yet light enough for him to find his way, Reid slipped out of the temple complex. He believed no one was awake, though he stopped several times to hide in the shadows when he thought he heard footsteps behind him, and once or twice he had the eerie feeling that someone was watching him.
He skirted the village on the landward side, keeping well away from the houses, until he came to the road leading toward the sacred grove. It did not take long to reach the steps which would take him to the opening in the mountain. He paused to look around, to make certain once more that no one was following him.
By now it was much lighter, and Reid could see a few farmers in their fields gathering the last of the harvest. Rather than chance being seen using the steps, he went up the hillside by scrambling among the bushes and briars that grew wild there. Glancing behind his shoulder one last time to be sure no one had noticed or followed him, he moved onto the wide stone terrace on his hands and knees, then ran for the cover of the tunnel entrance. It was as black as deep outer space, and he tripped repeatedly on the carved stone steps before he came out into the deeply shadowed early morning light of the little grove.