Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest)

by Marilyn Haddrill

  Adalginza tried to swallow down the bile crawling up her throat, as she urged the sturmon to move faster.

  This was the most unpleasant part of her gift. For while she could share the maternal joy of a mother reasilicoon licking down its newborn baby or the exhilaration of a wide-winged bird in flight, she could also sense primitive compulsions to annihilate intruders invading territory that already had been claimed.

  She often felt raw terror, pain, hunger, and lust emanating from the invisible feathered and furred minds surrounding her.

  These sensations had frightened her as a child. But as she matured, she had reached a profound understanding of why the world of these creatures was sometimes as harsh as it was.

  She was not there to change it, or even to rescue the helpless that every day were prey to wily predators. It simply was what it was. A natural cycle.

  At its most primitive, life was about survival. If she had learned nothing else, she must carry that lesson forward with her on this journey of solitude.

  When their progress slowed almost to a standstill, Adalginza finally noticed the awkward gait of the sturmon. She stopped the animal, and leaned over to slide her hand down the Golden's muscled right shoulder and upper leg, probing for the source of the problem.

  The sturmon was lame. A most infuriating twist of fate.

  The animal must have injured or bruised its leg during their side trip to avoid the snake. She mindlinked with the Golden, but could sense no pain. Considering their less than amicable relationship, however, it was no surprise that she was unable to establish much of a connection or rapport.

  "All right," she declared aloud. "You win."

  She slid off the sturmon's back, noticing only then that the hilt of the captain's sword still gleamed from its scabbard.

  She placed her hand on it, resting it there thoughtfully. This, too, was a most unfortunate development. This particular Crescent sword was a symbol of the captain's leadership. It would not be easily replaced.

  She wondered if Kalos would even be able to defend his ranking now, especially considering the way the weapon had been lost. Stolen by a mere woman, who had tricked him and then escaped.

  Adalginza swallowed hard. First she had taken the Golden. And now she had the captain's most cherished symbol of authority in her possession.

  She was certain that the captain's many reasons for hating her must now be multiplying rapidly.

  Adalginza took the sturmon's rein and began tugging on the animal, half dragging his outstretched head behind her. He reluctantly followed with a slow, exaggerated limp.

  If she planned to keep the Golden with her, progress from here on out would be excruciatingly slow. And she was growing increasingly worried about pursuit.

  Where was the captain right now? Immediately behind her?

  Anxiety spurred her onward, though Adalginza reassured herself that there was no way Kalos could have tracked her on foot.

  For one thing, the prints of the Golden's hooves would be just one set among many along the numerous trails leading from the Village of the Circles.

  For another, Kalos had no sword for protection. And Adalginza had taken all the provisions and drinking water.

  The captain had no doubt been forced to walk back to Lady Donzala's abode, where he could secure another sturmon and enlist the aid of the other knights in his search.

  It was the only reasonable course of action available to him. So with such a delay, Kalos could not possibly catch up with her. And he couldn't travel in the darkness that was now setting in.

  Adalginza was grateful that most of the crescent moons were either in shadow or mere slivers of their usual selves. With only the tiny Second Crescent Moon in its full phase, no progress could be made in the captain's search until the next morn.

  It was a good night to hide.

  Adalginza made camp, such as it was, beside a series of pools of crystal clear water formed from runoff from the nearby, higher mountain range. spring fed by underground volcanic activity

  She unsaddled then tethered the Golden, after allowing it to drink its fill from one of the pools. Then she left the animal grazing contentedly.

  Soon the sound of its strong jaws jerking and then munching sweet grass become part of the soothing night rhythm.

  Inspired by the ravenous hunger she felt from the Golden, Adalginza sat on a rock and took out some of the dried meat and berries from a pouch of provisions. She ate only enough to quell the pain of hunger.

  She must be sparing, for she had no idea how long she would need to depend on the few supplies she had stolen.

  After eating, she risked creating the tiniest of fires by sparking it with two tinder stones that had been stashed in the pack.

  The flame was more for comfort and light than for warmth, because the night actually was quite humid and hot in this particular desert terrain below the higher mountains.

  Adalginza removed one of the cross-woven sleeping mats from the saddle pack and unrolled it by the fire. Then she rolled up a blanket for a pillow, and stretched out to stare up at the sky.

  It was unusual to have so many waning cycles of the moons on the same night. And because of the extra darkness, she was treated to a rare view of the infinite stars in all their sparkling glory.

  Very little of her surroundings could be distinguished in the growing shadows that at first made Adalginza feel a little uneasy. But gradually she eased into a state of quiet contentment.

  For a woman who had the gift of mindlink with beasts and birds, there was really very little to be afraid of in the wilderness. It was like having thousands of personal sentries keeping watch for her in the darkness.

  Almost unconsciously, she probed the minds around her.

  The predators in this vicinity were all far too small to take more than a passing interest in creatures as large as the sturmon. And herself.

  The larger beasts, which might ordinarily represent danger, were already asleep in their dens. Birds of prey had their heads tucked under their wings while they perched on their roosts or snuggled within their nests.

  As for human intruders, she counted on the alarm she would most certainly sense from the denizens of the night if any predators of the two-legged variety were to approach.

  Adalginza realized that, for the first time in her life, Bruna was no longer lurking out there somewhere. Spying on her. Envying her. Hating her.

  And Benfaaro could no longer devise treacherous plans that his little sister would be compelled to follow because her very existence depended on him.

  Adalginza had stripped herself completely of the ability to help or harm anyone except herself.

  So this was freedom.

  Realizing that the eloquently fabricated skirts she had so abused for the entire day were now ragged and heavy, Adalginza rose to her feet and began to shed the soiled clothing of the Lady of the House of the Fifth Crescent.

  She tiptoed, barefoot, to the edge of the nearest pool. Looking down, she saw the painted masque staring back at her.

  She cautiously eased her body down on a rock jutting from the water, and pulled off a thick, fibrous leaf from a nearby water plant. Then she began to methodically rub away the thick paint of masque from her face.

  Next, she uncoiled the tightly woven patterns of hair, so much the fashion among the Crescent Houses. It took many long minutes. But finally the long, thick mass of her tresses hung loose and unstyled around bare shoulders, tickling her bare skin.

  She was a pretender no more.

  Peering down into the water at her own image vaguely mirrored in the dim moonlight, she was startled to realize that she had nearly the same appearance she once had as a child.

  On this night, her olive skin had no blemishes. Fear had departed from her expression, and her large eyes brimmed with curiosity and possibility.

  Was this who she really was? She didn't know for sure. But she would have plenty of time to find out, within the solitude of her own company.

 
; She slipped into the water, and bathed in its tepid warmth. Then she rolled over onto her back, and swung out her arms in wide arcs, kicking her feet in accompaniment, to propel herself into the middle of the pool.

  She felt her hair tug behind her, fanning in the water around her face. She stopped and floated, her ears now covered and deafened to any physical sounds.

  She depended instead on her secret sense, the one that still flitted among the wild animals that surrounded her. But even her mental vigilance slipped away as her thoughts strayed into the vicinity of her heart, where an ache lingered.

  She deeply missed Captain Kalos. But now, at least, there was no longer a need for lies.

  The captain was far better off without her. And he would never know what a great favor she had done him, by removing herself from his life.

  As a deep sense of rightness enveloped her, Adalginza actually dozed off while suspended in the pond's stillness. Soon she had no perception of the passage of time.

  Nonsensical dreams drifted in and out of her awareness, some of them filled with the face of Captain Kalos. In one fragmented sequence of visions in her sleep state, night creatures scattered from the captain's approach. Their panic invaded her senses and she saw him through their eyes in the pale moonlight.

  Crescent sword in hand, he stood upon the rock where she had sat earlier, cleansing her face. Then, finally, the realization seeped through into her consciousness that this was no dream.

  Adalginza pulled herself up instantly, splashing water like a drowning arroyrat. She almost sank to the bottom of the pond until she regained the presence of mind to control the stroking of her arms and propel herself into the shallows opposite him.

  She thought about standing up and running. But this would be unseemly in her current state. She stayed low in the water, not knowing what next to do.

  "Do not bother to run," the captain said gruffly. "I would not hesitate to throw my dagger."

  "You cannot be here," she said in a dazed voice. "This is not possible."

  The captain laid the Crescent sword aside and eased himself down upon the rock. In fierce motions that demonstrated his fury, he began to yank off boots that were gouged and torn.

  Adalginza could see a gaping tear in his tunic, where blood oozed from his shoulder. As he warily watched her, he maneuvered his feet until they dangled in the water.

  She could scarcely believe what she was seeing. "You walked all this way?"

  "My feet ache like two slabs of meat, beaten into tenderness and ready for the roasting." Captain Kalos reached for the Crescent sword and placed it in a symbolic position of readiness across his lap. "And never have I ever been forced to defend myself against a snake while armed only with a short dagger. Always in the past, my Crescent sword has been at my side in readiness for battle. But I had no sword."

  "You found the snake, hiding on the trail." Adalginza was horrified.

  "No. The snake found me. Much to its regret. I was in a very foul mood."

  The captain eyed the bundle of clothes that Adalginza had shed next to the water. He picked up a delicate underthing, gingerly put it back down and then gazed at her with unabashed curiosity.

  Adalginza self-consciously sank farther into the water. "You must be very fleet of foot to catch up with me the way you did."

  "Only when I am extraordinarily inspired." He continued to glare at her. "You stole my favorite sturmon. You stole my sword. What did you expect me to do? Meekly return to my knights, and tell them that a woman had bettered their captain?"

  "You would rather die than admit that?"

  "My rank would have been stripped from me. I could never again sit at the banquet tables in any of the royal courts of the Prime Continent, because my reputation would precede me. I would be the subject of considerable mirth. The name of my clan would be ruined. I had no choice but to go after you."

  In the back of her mind, Adalginza was trying to think of a way to escape. But, in the meantime, she knew it was best to keep him talking. At least the captain seemed less inclined now to murder her on the spot.

  "I am truly sorry. Had I known, I would have left you the sword. And the Golden, if I could have found another sturmon. My only thought was for escape."

  "Escape from what?" Kalos asked, sounding exasperated. "From me?"

  Adalginza took a deep breath. "Yes."

  "You are lying, as usual." Kalos appeared thoughtful. "I found it most peculiar on this morn when I arose early only to discover that you had already prepared our mounts. And you had done so behind the screen of the suckleberry thickets."

  "You were suspicious of me? Why?"

  "Why, indeed?" Kalos was entirely too adept at sarcasm. "You are obviously an expert with the sturmons and their gear, yet you had adjusted the stirrups on my Golden incorrectly — short enough for you, but not even close to a good fit for me."

  "Oh."

  "I should have seen then that you had no intention of going anywhere with me. You had prepared the sturmons — the two fastest — for yourself and another. Based on the length of the stirrups on the other sturmon, I would say the other was a child. Whose child? Yours?"

  She gave him her most evasive smile. "You are far too wise for me, captain."

  "By the saints, woman! I do not want you to agree with me for reasons of your own. I want you to tell me the truth!"

  "The child is Benfaaro's." The truth, out of context, can be as piercing as an arrow shot with true aim toward its rightful target.

  The captain looked stricken. "Benfaaro is the father of your child?"

  Adalginza said nothing.

  "No. You are too young." Kalos was thinking out loud. "You are no older than twenty one seasons, by your own admission. A child born from you must be old enough to ride on its own sturmon, for your plan to work. The child would need to be at least five or six seasons old. I suppose it is possible...unless, of course, you are lying. This is even more possible."

  "Or," Adalginza suggested helpfully. "I could be mad. Like my mother, Lady Donzala."

  "Or you could be intent on driving me even madder than Lady Donzala."

  All conversation ceased. And Adalginza realized that the captain was watching her far too intently.

  "Indeed, there must be madness everywhere on this night," he muttered to himself. "I should truss you up like the thief you are, and bring you home in disgrace. I could throw you in prison, and claim all your holdings for what you have done."

  "Yes. You could."

  "But I will not."

  "What will you do instead?" Adalginza asked softly.

  He stood slowly then, and carefully laid the sword aside. He began to slowly untie the tunic covering his chest. The pale light of the few moons that now peered discreetly from the far horizon glowed from his bare skin.

  "The water is as reflective as a mirror, lady. You have nothing left to conceal, that I have not already seen," he said softly.

  He picked up the Crescent sword and held it high above his head.

  "I must first have your consent. It is the law of my House."

  Adalginza's people, the savages, believed that the Crescent Moons carried within them a myriad of enchantments, depending on the many configurations they took as they danced together through the night sky.

  It was even said that the moons could compel a person to lunacy, if time and circumstances meshed with exactly the right patterns of the waxing and waning orbs.

  Adalginza did, indeed, believe that something outside of herself had taken over her mind. And perhaps even her spirit.

  "Captain," she replied with a voice she barely recognized as her own. "You may enter this water with me only if you promise, backed by the very essence of your being, that the two of us will remain here, together, until only death shall part us."

  "You wish to be with me forever?" Kalos asked in a hushed tone. His hands were still high above his head, clutching the sword. Sweat was beginning to trickle down his arms and his chest.

  "Unto de
ath, at least," Adalginza said. "I cannot promise forever."

  "I can."

  With his right hand, Kalos impulsively aimed the tip of the sword into the ground, and began marking intricate patterns that made no sense to Adalginza. Then he stabbed the sword into the center of the large circle.

  "It is done. The promise is made. And sealed."

  He splashed into the water, not with grace but with ardor. Finally, they were spent when only a few pale slivers of crescent moons lingered in the sky.

  But by the time daylight broke on the far horizon, the magic had waned along with the mystical power of the moons.

  Adalginza now was outstretched on a blanket, face-to-face with a man whose dark eyes now seemed very troubled as they gazed back at her through thick lashes.

  His beard was caked with straw and mud from their night's exertions. She reached up to her own hair, realizing that she must now look a mess. And she wore no masque to hide behind.

  With a start, she put her hand to her face.

  "My masque..." she began.

  "Is gone, and good riddance," Kalos finished for her. He removed her hand, and caressed her cheek. "I believe it was the sight of your divine face, unmarred by any paint, as you floated there in the water that showed me at last who you really were."

  "You were spying on me before you declared your presence?"

  "Oh yes," Kalos admitted. "For a very, very long time. I watched you surrounded with a glow of such complete serenity. And purity. Something I have never seen before in any being. No masques. And no games. It was the real you, Adalginza. The woman I suspected was there all along. The woman I knew I had to have."

  "And if I had said no?" Adalginza raised herself upon one elbow.

  Kalos smiled. "A knight from the House of the Fifth Crescent would have taken you anyway, for you had declared your intent for me long ago. There would have been no taking it back."

  "But you are from the House of the Ninth Crescent Moon."

  "Because of my father's alliance with the Fifth House, I am equally close to your House and those of your blood. But it mattered not whether I was a knight of the Fifth House or the Ninth. I knew you would not turn me down."

  Adalginza sat up, and pretended anger as she modestly wrapped an edge of the blanket around her. "You are still conceited!"