Claudia J Edwards - [Forest King 02]

by Horsewoman in Godsland (UC) (epub)

  “Some do,” said Len unexpectedly. “Some men want that from their women. Is An-Shai in love with Adelinda?” “No-o,” said Li-Mun doubtfully. “I don’t think so. Not sexually, anyway. He’s always obeyed the rules about celibacy, and never seemed to think they were too harsh. But this is important to him. He means to win you over with

  kindness after you’ve submitted, I’m sure of that. He’d protect your friends, too, for your sake. I overheard him just now refusing to have Len killed.”

  “He can’t win this fight, Li-Mun,” said Adelinda. “This obsession of his is going to get us all killed. Help us escape. Once we’re away he can settle down to ruling his Vale or getting to be an initiate or whatever he wants to do.”

  “You’ll never escape him, Adelinda,” said Li-Mun sadly. “No matter where you were, even back in your own mountains, he could reach you through the overmind.” The hierarch rose and walked to the door. “Think about it. Talk it over with Len and see if he’s willing to be sacrificed to your pride. At this time, An-Shai won’t hurt you or your friends, but you can push him so far he’d be forced to.”

  “Wait,” said Adelinda. “Could we have a drink of water and something to eat?”

  “Of course you can, anytime you’re willing to ask An-Shai for them.” Li-Mun left the room and the bars crashed back into place.

  Len swallowed convulsively. Adelinda tried again to moisten her lips. “He’s got us where he wants us, doesn’t he?” she said at last. “We’ve got to have water, and food too. Len, we’ve got to escape. Watch for any chance, and if you see one, you give the orders and I’ll take them, and the other way around if I see one you don’t. All right?”

  Len nodded. “We won’t get far if we’re weak, though,” he said, hoping she would get the point.

  At that moment, the bars began to crash back again. The door opened, and An-Shai appeared, carrying a heavy pitcher. Without giving him a chance to speak, Adelinda rose. “Your Grace, may we have a drink of water, please?” she asked. Her tone, though it could not be said to be humble, was at least polite.

  “Of course,” the bishop said. “I consider it an obligation to take care of those for whom I have accepted the responsibility.” Adelinda’s teeth grated, but she held her tongue. Taking large cups from one of the several servants who had followed him into the makeshift prison, An-Shai poured each of them one. It was the sparkling water of the deep artesian wells, cool and refreshing, the faint mineral flavor biting the tongue with a pleasant tang, and they both drained (heir cups in one draft.

  “May we have some more, please?” asked Adelinda, holding out her cup.

  “Certainly,” responded the bishop, and filled the cups again. “I’ll leave the pitcher for you.” He gestured, and two palace servants brought in a small table. The bishop set the pitcher down upon it. “Before I go, is there anything else you need?”

  “Could we have something to eat, please?”

  “Oh, yes.” He beckoned again, and two small plates with attractively arranged crisp raw vegetables on them were brought in. There was neither the grain they had come to expect with meals nor the customary sour wine.

  “Is this all we get?” asked Adelinda, looking at a lovely fresh salad that was about enough to keep a small rabbit happy.

  “Since your activity will be greatly reduced, you’ll need a lighter diet—for your health’s sake.” Without waiting for an answer, the bishop left the room. If he expected Adelinda to call after him and beg for more food, he was disappointed; she was unable to bring herself to do so before the door closed and the bars were replaced.

  Adelinda stared moodily at her plate. “I suppose this is better than starvation,” she said.

  “Lots better. At least we aren’t thirsty any more,” said Len. “I’ll admit that for a while there I was afraid you wouldn’t ask for anything.”

  Adelinda sighed. “I don’t have much choice, do I? Promise me you’ll tell me if I show signs of groveling.”

  Len, his mouth full of radishes, grinned. “I can’t imagine it.”

  Orvet and Karel stood before the bishop, their aspects courteous. “Your Grace,” said Orvet politely, “we’re concerned for our friend and employer Adelinda. She hasn’t been seen this morning, even though her horse is still in his pen. Do you know where she is?”

  An-Shai leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. “Yes, and I know where your young friend Len is, too. They were caught breaking some very important rules and are being held until I decide what the penalties are to be.”

  Orvet and Karel exchanged concerned glances. “May we know what rule they broke?”

  “The rule against taking lovers outside the bond of marriage.”

  “Oh, no, they can’t have done that,” exclaimed Karel, positively.

  “Can’t they?” asked An-Shai icily. “Then what was the young man doing in her room in the small hours of the morning?”

  “I don’t know, but certainly not making love. They don’t even like each other.”

  “If you will permit us to talk to them,” interposed Orvet smoothly, “we’ll find out.”

  “No. You’re dismissed.” The bishop turned to a stack of bark paper he was sorting. Perforce, Orvet and Karel left.

  “What do you suppose is going on?” Karel asked, dismayed, when they rejoined Tobin and Ina, waiting outside with the horses.

  “I expect he caught them snooping in his papers, or about to, and is using this rule of his as an excuse to hold them. He won’t let us talk to them so they can’t tell US' what they found out.”

  “Where’s the prison?” asked Tobin. “Maybe we can get them out and make a run for it.”

  “I don’t know where the prison is. I haven’t seen anything that looks like a jail. Everybody look around and ask a few tactful questions today. We’ll see what we can do tonight,” said Karel.

  Ina was the first to find an opportunity to discover any information. She had been giving Cho-Hei a riding lesson and he had suggested that they rest for a while in a fragrant grove of spicewoods with a peaty amber spring welling out of the ground in the middle, forming a deep, bubbling pool perhaps ten feet in diameter. Someone had walled the pool about with a low circle of stones all golden-stained by the water.

  The noble’s mind did not prove to be exclusively on improving his equitation, Ina found. He seated her on a mossy bank and sat down so close to her that their thighs rubbed together. When he leaned toward her, which he immediately did, she could feel his soft breath stirring the hair on her temple. She shifted uneasily, all too aware of his proximity. “Tell me about the laws of your country,” she gulped.

  If Cho-Hei was startled by this sudden introduction of the subject, he was too urbane to show it. “We don’t really have laws, Ina,” he said, drawing her name out breathily.

  “Well,” she stuttered, “I had in mind your rules about marriage.” Then she blushed as she realized that the noble must think that she meant to apply his answer to them.

  “Ah, I see.” He smiled his dazzling smile. “Our bishop decides when we may marry and the village priest usually decides whom. Mates are chosen for suitability and for the greater glory of God the Father—also to breed out any defective genes. However,” here he leaned even closer, “we may suggest to the priest that we would be unusually pleased if he would choose a certain mate for us, and if the match fulfills all the other necessary criteria, and if the bishop approves, he may sanction it.”

  “No, I meant, well, sometimes people must, er... I mean, what if two people who aren’t married, er, misbehave?”

  Cho-Hei withdrew a few inches and gave her a shocked look. “I don’t mean me!” she exclaimed. “He’s holding our employer on some such charge and I wanted to know what the rales were.”

  “Oh. Well, I certainly can’t say that such things don’t happen, boys and girls being what they are. If the priest and the bishop want to invoke the full weight of custom, the culprits could be put to death, but usually they’re jus
t forced to marry. If the match isn’t a desirable one, they’re not allowed to have any children.”

  “I don’t believe that Adelinda and Len were doing any such thing.”

  “Don’t men and women do such things in your homeland?”

  “Of course. We see nothing wrong in a little affection exchanged between boys and girls, as long as no one’s hurt by it. The horse folk, who many late, may have several affairs before they settle on a permanent mate. We farmer folk usually marry at fifteen or sixteen, so we have little opportunity for experimentation. But Adelinda and Len— well, you’d have to know them to realize how impossible such an idea is.”

  Cho-Hei shook his head. “An-Shai’s a deep one. All the clergy are. He wouldn’t hesitate to hold them for reasons of his own. You have to admit that if Len was really found in Adeiinda’s room, it doesn’t look good for them.”

  “Where would criminals of that sort be held? I’d like to visit them and see if they need anything.”

  Cho-Hei looked genuinely puzzled. “I don’t know. Usually such criminals are dealt with immediately. We don’t have any facilities for locking people up.”

  “What do you do with ordinary criminals?”

  “There aren’t any.” Cho-Hei grinned infectiously. “The bishop has God and all the spirits to back up his commands. He doesn’t need to lock people up. Who would dare disobey him?”

  “Then where could they be?”

  “They must be locked up in the palace somewhere. Come to think of it, I saw a metal worker installing a grillwork over one of the guest room windows around on the south side earlier this morning. I’ll bet that’s where they are. I’d forget it, if I were you. You’ll never get to see them unless the bishop decides to let you.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” said Ina, and she threw herself enthusiastically into the spirit of the flirtation that Cho-Hei was trying to carry on, to distract him from her questions. The noble was surprised but pleased, and set himself to charming her.

  Later, when she reported the results of this conversation to the other three, Karel shook his head gloomily “It doesn’t sound good. I hope Cho-Hei doesn’t report that you’ve been snooping.”

  “I don’t think he will,” Ina answered, patting her disorderly hair into place. “I’ll tell you something: I don’t think the ordinary people care any more for the clergy than we do. They’re afraid of them, and with good reason, but if they could find a way to get rid of them they would. I think

  Cho-Hei will follow orders, but I don’t think he’ll volunteer anything he isn’t asked about.”

  “If they’ve got Adelinda and Len locked up in one of the guest rooms on the south side, we can at least talk to them and find out what’s going on,” said Tobin.

  “How?” chorused the others.

  “If we throw a rope up to them and they tie it on the bars, I can shinny up it and talk to them.”

  “Really? I couldn’t do it,” said Orvet.

  “I could have when I was Tobin’s age, before I got hurt,” said Karel. “I believe him.”

  “I was rope-climbing champion for the last three years in a row at the Midsummer Games,” said Tobin, eyes cast down modestly.

  “You certainly don’t brag about your feats,” observed Orvet.

  Tobin looked a bit uncomfortable. “Well, if people know you can, they expect you to. But this is an emergency,” he added magnanimously.

  “One ihjng is sure,” said Karel, thoughtfully. “We’ve got to be ready to get out of here at a moment’s notice. Keep your personal gear packed and ready to go. Light packs, please; your riding horses are going to have to carry them. We won’t have any pack stock. I hope nobody brought anything they have any objection to abandoning.”

  While the rest of the party discussed their fate, Adelinda and Len were facing the bishop in his study. There were no guards; none were needed. An-Shai fairly vibrated with a power kept precariously in leash.

  “Let me make myself very clear to you,” he said, as cold and distant as winter stars. “Whether you are guilty or not makes absolutely no difference to me at all. You will bow to my will here in Godsland. Late or soon, you will acknowledge me your master. Do you understand what I intend?”

  “I understand that you never intended to let us leave when you sent for us, and I call that damned treacherous, dishonorable dealing,” said Adelinda. “My folk and I have dealt fairly with you, and would have continued to until our agreement was fulfilled. In return, we find that we are to be kept here for the rest of our lives as slaves.”

  An-Shai brushed this aside. “Nonsense. Any peasant is better for having a priest and a bishop to care for him and guide his life. Our peasants are happy and content. Can you say the same for yours?” He gestured at Len, standing a little in the rear, the sullen expression of his face even more pronounced. “That one particularly would obviously be better off to have concerned and responsible superiors.”

  “Len has the freedom to make whatever he wants of his life. He can live where he likes, marry whom he chooses, take whatever job he prefers, and spend the money he earns as seems best to him. Or if he chooses not to do any of those things, he can do that, too.”

  The bishop’s lip curled in contempt. “And all the use he has made of all this freedom is to be miserable.”

  “Ask Len which he prefers: free misery or serfdom. You might ask your own people the same question, except that they’d be too afraid of you to give you an honest answer.” “Nine tenths of all people are bom too cowardly or too lazy to make their own decisions—and to take the responsibility for the consequences.”

  “I doubt that. Even if it were true, I’m certainly not one of the nine tenths, nor any of my folk. Your best choice is to let us go before you force us all into a situation where no one can survive, much less win.”

  “You’re an arrogant woman, Adelinda. Not only you, but the world will be better off when you have been brought to realize your proper place. And you can ask Len or any of your men if that’s not so.”

  Adelinda was trembling with rage now, too. “The men of the Kingdom are willing to let any woman do whatever she can. You waste half your people keeping your women uneducated and poor-spirited.”

  “But our women are happy, filling the role for which they were designed. I see no sign that either you or your countrywoman Ina is happy. Both of you need a husband to serve and to take care of you. And how can your men feel that they are men when their women neglect all consideration or respect? It seems to me that everyone, man or woman, needs to have a place in the world and people about him or her whose roles are understood. Your precious ‘freedom’ is won at great cost. The people who should be able to rely on you can’t because you’d rather be free than responsible.” As Adelinda grew angrier, An-Shai had been growing cooler; for the first time now, he sat down. “Do you dare to put your concept of ‘freedom’ to the test against my concept of ‘protection’?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A test in the overmind, you and Len against Tsu-Linn and myself. Each of us can devise a scenario to demonstrate the point of our philosophies. The more powerful scenario wins.”

  “I’m not sure I understand what the ‘overmind’ is.”

  “The overmind is the stuff of the collective unconscious of the human race. For those who know how to gain access to it in the conscious state, and who have the resolution and the self-command to do it, it is a source of great power. Since a determined will can shape the stuff of the overmind, whole little universes can be created there, designed to suit the creator!”

  “That little drama last night was your invention.” An-Shai inclined his head, gravely. “You’ve got a gruesome mind, Bishop. I’m not sure I understand the stakes in this little contest you’re suggesting.”

  “Then let me explain. If I win, you will have to concede that my view of the universe is the correct one, and in that eventuality you will be happy to accept my protection. If, on the other hand, your scenario is t
he more convincing, I would have to admit that there is merit in ‘freedom’ and to permit you and your folk to keep yours.”

  Adelinda was tempted to fall in with the bishop’s plan. There was no question in her mind but that her view of the universe was the right one. It seemed a way out of a situation that was rapidly degenerating into unguessable catastrophes. Len saw the indecision in her face. “No!” he said, startling both of the others. “Don’t agree to anything, Adelinda. The only thing that sort of contest would prove would be that An-Shai and Tsu-Linn know more about this ‘overmind’ and how to handle it than we do, and we already know that.”

  Adelinda gave him a look of surprise that quickly changed to gratitude as she assimilated the pitfall Len had pointed out. “You’re right,” she conceded. She turned back to the bishop. “No. My friend sees things more clearly than I do. No contests. I’ll tell you again that the best thing you can do for yourself, for your people, and for us is to let us go. We can guarantee to be out of Godsland tomorrow.”

  “I’m not sure I shall permit you to refuse my offer. I’ll even warn you so that you can prepare. In fact, Fm even willing to concede that your peasants are certainly smarter than ours, and that even if one of ours had observed what Len did he wouldn’t have dared to speak up. But I still maintain that he’s no happier for it.” The bishop rose from his desk, seeming taller and more dreadful than ever, as if some great wrathful force was gathering itself into him, imbuing him with a latent power that threatened terrible destruction.

  “You’re to remain here. I’ll speak to Tsu-Linn now and discover his convenience.” He strode out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

  His footsteps had not ceased to echo when Len was at the door, opening it to discover a contingent of palace servants. He shut it again quickly. Adelinda was already at the bishop’s desk, riffling through the piles of bark paper that lay there. Len joined her. “What do they say?” he asked.

  “Just a minute. Thank goodness An-Shai writes a good clear hand—I don’t read these syllables very fast, you know, H’mm, these are business letters. I can’t find the account books.”