by Jean Lorrah
“They are both my sons,” Serafon said quietly, sinking into a chair. “I am Vortius’ natural mother.”
Astra stared at her in disbelief.
“Thirty years ago,” the priestess went on, “when I was a little younger than you, my Adept powers increased so that I lived in terror of being exposed. I’d never used my powers to harm anyone, only done what I could when someone was very ill or when the weather threatened to destroy our crops.
“A young boy in a nearby town showed Adept powers… and was stoned to death by his own family. I feared that the same thing might happen to me, so I decided to destroy my powers in the one sure way-by giving myself to a man. There was a neighbor it had been assumed I would marry-but he kept saying he couldn’t afford a wife until the next good harvest. I was too frightened to wait, so I tempted him. It wasn’t hard.
“My powers disappeared overnight… but the man lost all interest in me, and began courting another.
Soon I discovered that I was pregnant. The father of my child had just announced his wedding plans.
“I feared the shame I would bring on my family. More than that, I questioned why the gods were putting me through one ordeal after another.”
Astra touched her shoulder in sympathy. “So you ran away to Tiberium?”
“To this very temple. Many unwed mothers are helped here. When Vortius was born, the high priestess saw to it that he was adopted into a good family. Eventually I was allowed to join the order, and befriended his adopted mother. But I never told Vortius or his mother wno I was.”
Astra arrived at the border station a few minutes after Vortius and company had passed through the gate.
She Read soldiers in the nearby barracks happily dividing up the bribe Vortius had given them to open the gates. The few coins she had would never satisfy their greed.
Three guards were on duty as she rode up to the tower. They looked down at her with leering smiles, exchanging muttered jokes that she could Read, but ignored. But it gave her an idea…
“Hey, pretty one, what can we do for you?” one of the guards called down.
“Open the gates!” she demanded, not having to act to sound tired and frustrated. “He’s not getting away from me that easily!”
The three looked at each other, puzzled, then back at Astra again.
“I’ve followed Vortius for two days!” she exclaimed. “The gold he paid you was supposed to include me.
I’ll chase him clear to the edge of the world before I’ll let him desert me after what I did for him! Now let me through the gate!”
The guards started laughing, and Astra Read them envisioning this angry woman set loose on the arrogant gambler. As she had hoped, they resented his wealth enough to pass her through. She spurred her horse down the road, and rode fast until she was out of sight of the guard tower.
Then she slowed to a walk again. It would not do to catch up with Vortius’ caravan until she had a plan to help Zanos escape. Again her memories intruded.
“Your powers returned after Vortius’ birth?” she had asked Serafon.
The old woman had nodded. “By the time I joined the order they were as strong as ever. I found a new home here, and decided that I would have to find a better way to survive than running away again. Then I heard a Dark Moon Reader boast about exposing a secret Adept when he couldn’t Read her surface thoughts. I could pass as a nonAdept if I could project my feelings, give Readers something to detect.
“Eventually, it became a habit to project my thoughts. And then I began to look for other secret Adepts, to help them survive in this land that kills us.”
“Was Zanos the only one you found?” asked the Reader.
“Yes,” Serafon said, smiling at the memory. “He was such a rebellious child. He escaped from his master and hid in the temple. Some instinct drew me to him, but I had to use my powers to prevent him from running away. I was amazed when he tried to counter my powers with his own weaker ones. I persuaded him that it was better for him to learn to control his powers than to reveal them while he was so young that he could be easily caught and killed. Eventually I was able to show him that the discreet use of his powers could be his way out of slavery, and we became friends.”
Astra could Read a sense of apprehension sweeping the territory as she rode through the lands west of Zendi. Here and there she picked up thoughts of people preparing to join the army-an army marching against the Aventine invaders. These were the lands of the sorcerer Lenardo, she remembered. He and his savage friends would soon attack Astra’s people … or defend themselves, depending on your perspective. Right now I, too, could be considered an enemy of the Aventine Empire.
She picked up images of Lenardo. His people saw him as a hero. They trusted him, and the union of Adepts and Readers he had brought together.
Constantly monitoring Vortius’ progress, she Read that the gambler and his party avoided attracting attention. Astra did the same, skirting the places where people were gathering for battle. By evening, Vortius reached the foothills of a mountain range that stretched northward to the limits of her Reading abilities. There he made camp on a hilltop surrounded by dense forest.
The farther from the border she got, the more Astra worried about dangers she could not anticipate.
Lenardo was a Master Reader. Scanning for enemies, he could accidentally discover her. I’H not be turned into one of the savages, as he was! But that meant rescuing Zanos that very night, so they could flee Lenardo’s territory.
But how could she do it? Her only advantage was that she was a strong Reader, and there seemed to be no Readers in Vortius’ party.
Yes, that was it! Serafon had unwittingly given her a clue. But she would need a place where she could imprison Zanos-and hold him.
She scanned the nearby hills. The area was dotted with underground caverns, but only one was structured to suit her needs. She made careful preparations, and with a prayer to all the gods set off toward Vortius’ camp at twilight.
There were four guards on the camp’s perimeter, each patrolling one quarter-section of the area. Zanos had the southeast quarter, standing like an armed statue, staring sightlessly into the darkness of the forest.
Astra crept to within a dozen yards of him, remaining behind the trees. Slowly and carefully she focused her mind on his, using a technique forbidden except under the strictest control in the healing of sick minds, salving her conscience with the thought that Zanos’ drug-trapped mind was in desperate need of healing.
She projected an image, a belief into his consciousness-a picture of Serafon, weeping like a mother grieving over the death of her child.
Zanos drew his sword and moved in the direction he believed the “sound” came from. He stumbled into a clearing, looking for Serafon. Astra let the illusion fade, then stepped out from behind the trees.
“Zanos,” she said softly, stretching out her arms to him, “come away with me!”
He stared at her, his blue eyes cold and empty. “Why should I go with you?”
The timing was all wrong; both the drug high and the period of suggestibility had worn off. But of course, Vortius would not send any man to patrol his camp in either of those conditions.
“I’m your wife,” she tried. “Zanos, you have fought for your freedom all your life. Are you going to let Vortius make you his property?”
The reminder of his lifelong determination made him frown for a moment, conflicting with the commands Vortius had implanted. Then Zanos shook his head. “I serve Vortius willingly. And you, my wife-you must serve him, too. Come. I will take you to him.”
“No!” Astra took the hand he proffered, but tugged in the opposite direction-a futile gesture against the gladiator’s size and strength. “Not yet, Zanos. Why… we’ve had no time alone together. Please-come with me to my campfire. Warm yourself, and be with me. I have your flute-don’t you miss your music?”
“Music… yes. Our music will entertain Vortius,” said Zanos.
It hurt
her to hear him turn every suggestion to pleasing Vortius, but if that would get him to come with her, let him think what he chose. “Yes-we will get our instruments and practice.”
“No-I must stand guard-”
“There are other guards,” she insisted. “Vortius will be so pleased if you charm him with your music.
Come, Zanos-he’ll expect you to be in practice.”
He stared at her coldly. “Astra,” he said at last, as if he had finally remembered her name. “My wife. Yes, there are other guards, but I mustn’t be gone long.”
“Then just come with me to get the instruments, she begged. “It won’t take long.”
She led him through deepening night, Reading their way to the well-hidden cave where she had made camp. Far inside the hill, where none but a Reader dared penetrate the labyrinth of tunnels, she had prepared for her siege on Zanos’ entrapped mind.
“We need a torch,” he said.
“No-I can Read the way,” she told him. “Just come along with me.”
She uad to win him tonight-if he grew desperate
enough to escape back to Vortius, dawn would reveal the rock chimney high above the campsite she had prepared. She had no doubt that a man of Zanos’ strength, let alone Adept powers, could climb up and out. But the fire would not provide enough light for such a climb. She had until dawn.
When they came into the cavern, Zanos seized the flute avidly and played a few notes. The drug had not dulled his skill. No-it did not affect physical coordination.
Astra picked up her lute and accompanied Zanos, letting him lead the way. But he went nowhere except over the same old ground-the songs they always played, no variations, no improvisations, no syncopation… almost no style.
Finally, Astra undercut the melody with a new harmony, layering notes in an unfamiliar texture born of her fears and frustrations.
Zanos stopped playing. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t you remember? You used to play like that, Zanos. You see what Vortius’ drug has done to you?”
“It makes me strong.”
“You are strong without the drug. Vortius has taken your freedom… and your music.”
He didn’t answer, but lifted the flute to his lips again, glaring at her as he played a variation on the same tune. But it was an old, well-rehearsed variation… and note by note Zanos slid out of it and back to the plain melody, accuracy without spirit.
Astra saw his eyes change-their blankness had disappeared with his anger, but now the anger dissolved to emptiness again. The notes fumbled to a stop. Zanos stared at the flute as if he had never seen it before.
Making no attempt to control her Reading, Astra watched him set the instrument down. “I have to go now,” he said. “They’ll miss me from the watch.” He started to place his flute in its case.
“Zanos, you must clean your flute,” said Astra, “or it won’t play right next time. ‘
“It won’t play right nowl” he protested. “I must go”
Was it hopeless? If he would not cooperate, she could not counter his strength-he could wander in the labyrinth of caves until he went mad with craving for the drug.
What good were all her plans to trap his body here, when Vortius had his mind trapped beyond her reach? Clea had begun her cleansing of the drug with the determination to be free of it. All she could Read from Zanos was an animal-like determination to return to his master.
But as she turned her eyes away from his empty ones, a thought suddenly reached her. “Astra! Don’t turn away. Help me, Astra!”
Her eyes flew back to his, but the blankness remained. The thought had been weak, far away, and was not repeated… it was as if Zanos were trapped deep within his own mind, struggling for control.
“I will help you,” she said.
“I don’t need any help,” he replied as if he had no idea that he had cried out to her. “Show me the way out.”
“No.”
“Show me the way, woman!” He towered over her, threatening.
But again she Read an entreaty from deep within him-no words this time, just a dim plea yearning toward her.
“Zanos, I cannot help you if you leave,” she pleaded in turn.
“I don’t need your help,” he repeated.
“You do. You have lost your musical talent,” she improvised hastily. “Vortius will be disappointed. I can show you how to play as well as you ever did.”
He stared at the discarded flute. “… as well as ever?” he finally asked.
“Yes, Zanos!” Astra leaped at the opportunity. “Come-lie down. I will show you how to get your talent back.”
“Lie down?” he asked suspiciously.
“You know how to go into healing sleep. You must do so… and let me guide you to regain your talent.”
She had none of the herbs used to put patients safely to sleep; if he would not willingly seek the healing trance, she could not reach his mind.
At that moment she longed for the Adept power to make him sleep… but her mind felt the weak but free Zanos within the drug-bound man exert every strength to prompt, “Heal… must be healed.”
As if already in trance, he stretched out on the blanket beside the fire. Almost instantly he was in the dreamless sleep of healing-but no fever came to purge the drug from his blood. She would have to guide him to that.
To calm herself, Astra cleaned Zanos’ flute and put it away, then settled herself carefully beside her husband. She would be leaving her body, not to observe a distant place or to seek a plane of privacy, but to enter the dangerous passageways of his drug-influenced mind. She swallowed hard, fighting down fear. She had practiced this technique at Gaeta, as all Readers did-but she was not a healer, nor had she colleagues here to draw her out should she become lost in Zanos’ fantasies.
Long-practiced breathing exercises calmed her body, and she let her “self’ drift forth. As always, her Reading became clearer than ever, unhampered by physical influences. She Read for Zanos-and found the part of his mind that refused the influence of the white lotus trapped, frustrated, within a body it no longer controlled.
“Astra!” She felt his shock as her presence touched his. Not a Reader, he had never experienced such a mental touch before.
“Yes, Zanos. I am here.”
“How can I hear you… Read you?”
She told him, 111 am projecting to you. Now, I want you to leave your body, escape the influence of the white lotus.”
“Leave-?”
“Don’t fear-I will guide you.”
She caught his natural reliance on his physical power vying with the loss of control since Vortius had drugged him. “No-your body won’t obey you,” she prompted. Ill will show you how to regain control.”
Ill know how!” he replied in frustration. “But my own strength betrays me. He betrays me!”
“He?” Astra curbed her fear-the uniting of a fragmented mind was a task for the most skilled of Healers.
“Yes-he! Zanos the slave! Zanos the coward! He is the one in control begging Vortius to enslave him further.”
Suddenly Astra was engulfed in Zanos’ memories. It was his day of triumph! The crowd roared as he skewered his third challenger and turned to receive their approbation, strutting before them, arms upraised, upon the sand stained with the blood of his opponents.
His heart sang. His master would win much gold on this match-and one-twelfth of it would go, as always, toward earning Zanos’ freedom Ever closer the day grew-and now there would be more such bouts, with higher stakes-A year-a year and a half at the most-and Zanos would have his freedom!
The cheering went on and on: “Za-nos! Za-nos! Za-nos!”
He circled the arena, basking in the approval of the crowd, long since inured to the knowledge that they would have cheered equally for his opponent had he been the victor, and Zanos a corpse to be dragged out of sight of the fastidious.
“Za-nos! Za-nos! Za-nos!”
He waved his arms, and the cheering i
ncreased as if he directed an orchestra. He reached the Emperor’s box, stopped, saluted-the crowd went wild.
And suddenly fell silent as the Emperor rose. “Where is this man’s master?” he called, and Lakus ran out into the arena to renewed cheering.
The Emperor raised his arms, and the people quieted once more. “Lakus, you have trained Zanos well-but he has gone far beyond mere training this day. I reward both of you for an outstanding display of gladiatorial skill. Lakus”-he tossed a small but heavy sack that clinked when Lakus caught it-“I reward you with three times Zanos’ value. May you find another and train him just as well.”
Then he fixed his stare on Zanos. “By Imperial decree, I declare you, Zanos, a free citizen of the Aventine Empire!”
The crowd went wild again… but Zanos felt his knees grow weak. It was all he had ever worked for, since Serafon had persuaded him his childish escape schemes were unworkable. He had his dream at last-and so unexpectedly!
His stomach hurt and his head swam as the people cheered the Emperor’s generosity. Zanos knelt, bowing his head in a proper gesture of gratitude-but inside, he feared he might faint.
Zanos remained in that position as the Emperor and his retinue departed, and the crowd began to disperse. Then he climbed to his feet, wondering what had happened to the joy he was supposed to feel… and Lakus came over to him. “Congratulations, Zanos-and may the gods grant you good fortune.
Be sure to put those arms away before you leave.”
Leave? To go where?
His former master walked away, leaving Zanos in the rapidly emptying arena… a free man, but a man with nothing. Not even the armor he wore was his. He did not have a bed to sleep in tonight-nor a coin to buy supper.
This was the freedom he had longed for? To belong to no one? To have no one responsible for him?
Fear tore at his vitals as he faced the bitter truth: he was terrified of being free!
Astra could feel how sharply, even today, Zanos felt what he perceived as his cowardice that day in the arena. But it had not conquered him. “What did you do then, Zanos?”
“Oh-some young gamblers who had won heavily on me came to the arms room, and invited me to dinner. Before I went to them, I talked to Serafon-she arranged a room for me that night, and tried to make me see how happy I ought to be. The next day I went to my old master. By that time he was over his annoyance at the way the Emperor had taken his best man away prematurely, and was happy to hire me as a freedman. You know the rest.”