Remember the Time

by Annette Reynolds

  She lifted the goblet to her lips and quickly swallowed a large draft of potent maize wine. It was strong and smooth as it slid down her throat, leaving warmth in its wake. She was not quite so cold now, and she would be able to meet her fate as a clairana should. She moved slowly to the polished brass mirror affixed to the far wall. The mellow golden circle reflected the scarlet blossoms in the white jade vase on the low table in front of the mirror and beyond it her own image. She had dressed very carefully tonight to forestall this very terror and give her confidence. She wore her favorite ceremonial robe, the cloak of sunrise. A sunburst of fine silk pleats fell from the, shoulders of the garment in a cascade of gold and ivory and rose and was fastened at her throat with a large yellow-diamond clasp whose facets sparkled in the soft candlelight. The ivory silk gown beneath it was a mere slip of material, and it revealed the full thrust of her breasts and the clean line of her thighs. At least she looked like a clairana. She mustn’t have these doubts. When the time came she would have the courage she needed. Probably the isolation of the last few days had been more painful than her death would be.

  The priests had been very wise in their punishment. They had snatched none of the riches that were the accoutrements of her position from her. They had taken away only their belief in her and the companionship to which a clairana was accustomed. She decided it was the terrible loneliness making her so cowardly. Everyone was alone within their soul, but a touch, a word, would have been a comfort as she released her essence to the—

  “You look splendid.”

  Sayan whirled to face the man standing in the doorway. “No!” she whispered. “I told you to leave. I begged you to leave and you promised you would. Why are you still here, Dalkar?”

  “I lied.” He strolled into the chamber, moving with grace and athletic coordination. His sandals made no sound on the marble tiles. His white teeth were gleaming in his bronze face as he smiled at her, and she felt an eddy of warmth cascade through her that was more heady than the strong wine she had just drunk.

  He was the one who was splendid. Strong and superbly muscled like a giant jaguar, his dark eyes shining with humor and vitality. He was naked to the waist as was his custom. The single swath of a dark brown leather chanton girdled his slim hips, leaving his muscular thighs as naked as his hair-roughened chest. The cords of the sandals that crisscrossed his ankles and lower calves were also leather. A beaten silver necklace imbedded with turquoise encircled his strong brown throat; the center medallion, inscribed with the cross of the four rivers, hung directly between his breasts. His features were not at all handsome. His nose was too short and blunt and his cheekbones too broad. It made no difference. He drew women to him like the great lodestone in the temple of Ra. He was all male virility and joyous laughter. Sayan had heard the whispers that followed him before he had even approached her, and knew he was not a man she could trust to keep his distance. That, too, had made no difference. His body had seduced her with its strength and heated masculinity, but it was his laughter that had enchanted and won her.

  He was laughing now. “You should have known better than to trust me. Any man who would dishonor a clairana is capable of any crime.” He picked up the graceful silver pitcher from the black marble table and poured a small amount of wine into a goblet. “I knew you wouldn’t stop arguing unless I told you I’d leave Kantalan.” He lifted the goblet in a toast. “And I had no intention of leaving either you or Kantalan. If you stay, I stay.”

  “I don’t want you to die. I want you to live. It will happen, Dalkar, believe me.” Her eyes glittered in the candlelight with the tears she refused to let fall. “Please believe me. I saw it in the sacred flames. It was a true vision. Ra didn’t take away my powers when I committed the blasphemy.”

  He stiffened and his smile faded. “It was no blasphemy. It was beautiful. Just because the priests have declared us outcasts doesn’t mean what we did was wrong. If you hadn’t been the clairana, I would have been allowed to take you as my lady. We were right to ignore those pompous fools and their outdated superstition and seize the joy that was our right to know.”

  She shook her head. “No, we were wrong. If I hadn’t betrayed my vow, our people would have believed in me and fled Kantalan. They would not be climbing the Sun Child tonight to give sacrifice.”

  He frowned. “You have regrets?”

  Her eyes widened. “Of course I have regrets. The greatest civilization that has existed since we left the homeplace is going to be destroyed.” Her despairing gaze searched his face. “You don’t believe me either, do you?”

  He shrugged. “I’m a soldier, not a mystic. I believe what I can see, what I can touch, and what we are together.” He smiled. “Is that enough for you, Sayan?”

  “No, you must believe.” Her voice was vibrant with urgency. “You must leave Kantalan, Dalkar.”

  “Shh.” His fingers touched her lips gently. “It doesn’t matter what I believe or don’t believe. If I thought Ra was going to rain fire down and destroy the world in the next instant, I would still be here.”

  “There will be no fire.” She closed her eyes. “Not this time. Not until the four who come after walk the streets of Kantalan.”

  Dalkar felt a cold chill in the hollow of his spine. He had always been a confirmed skeptic, but her utter certainty shook him. Then he moved his shoulders as if shrugging off a burden. He had always lived for the moment, and Sayan had given him the most exquisite moments in his life. He had learned these last few days when he had forced himself to stay away from her that a future without her would be meaningless. It was not a future he could comtemplate. If Sayan’s prophecy proved true, then he could have no more beloved a companion with to whom spend that final moment. Yet it was against his nature to accept even the possibility of death meekly. “I could take you away. We could make a life for ourselves somewhere else.”

  “I can’t go.” She opened her eyes to reveal a sadness that made his throat tighten with empathy and love.

  Love. He hadn’t realized until this moment how much he did love her. She had been a passion, an obsession, a challenge. He had always been tempted by any challenge that presented itself, and Sayan had posed a most difficult and exciting one. He didn’t honestly know whether he had set out to seduce her because she was forbidden or because he was truly captivated by her. She was undoubtedly a great beauty, with her perfect features and huge dark eyes, but her solemn mystical temperament was foreign to his easygoing nature. Well, it no longer mattered how they had reached this point; their future was bound inexorably together. Of that he was sure.

  His fingers moved from her lips to caress the hollow of her cheek. “Then I can’t go either.” His hand dropped away. “Now, stop protesting. You’re too intelligent a woman to waste your time with futile arguments.” He smiled with gentle raillery as he took her goblet and placed it with his own on the table. He took her elbow and propelled her toward the doors of the balcony. “Particularly since you’re convinced we have so little time left. Why don’t we watch the procession up the Sun Child? It will be quite a spectacle. Our being outcasts has one advantage at least. We don’t have to climb to the sacrificial plateau for the ceremony. We can watch it from right here.” He drew aside the heavy drapes of filigreed silver and stepped aside for her to precede him. “Perhaps their sacrifices will pacify Ra into forgiving our sins.”

  “Don’t joke.” She heard the soft metallic rustle as Dalkar released the silver curtain and it fell into place behind them. She crossed to the stone balustrade to look out over the city. It was hot and utterly still tonight, the air heavy and difficult to breathe. “It was a sin. I don’t think Ra considers it a sin against him because he gave me the vision, but it was a sin against our people. I should have been more responsible. I. should have obeyed the law.”

  His arm slid around her slim waist beneath the pleated cloak and his lips grazed her ear. Her dark waist-length hair caressed his naked chest and the delicate woman scent of her caused his
head to swim and his groin to tighten. “There’s no one more responsible than you, little Sayan, and it was a law meant to be broken.”

  She could feel the strength and warmth of his heavily muscled arm through the thin ivory silk of her gown and caught the scent of leather and musk that was innately his own surrounding him. She leaned back against him and sighed. “I love you so. Why did I have to love you?”

  She obviously didn’t expect an answer, and he gave her none. His gaze was fixed toward the south at the lower foothills of the Sun Child, the highest mountain in the chain that encircled the city. The trail leading up the mountain was dotted by thousands of torches as the citizens of Kantalan wound their way to the plateau halfway up the peak.

  “I love this city.” Sayan’s words were only a thread above a whisper. Her gaze was not on the mountain but on the deserted city below them. Stately pyramids and flat-roofed marble edifices sat side by side in faultless harmony and the four rivers dividing that exquisite harmony of architecture shimmered in the silver moonlight like the inscription on Dalkar’s medallion. “Could anything be more beautiful than Kantalan?”

  “No.” He experienced a surge of the same pride he had heard in her voice. It surprised him. He was a man who needed to struggle and build, and the perfection of Kantalan had always grated against his basic drives. But what else could he expect? He had chosen to become a soldier in a land that revered peace. Yet tonight, for some reason, he was responding as he had never done before to the serene beauty of his birthplace. “Nothing.”

  She was silent for a long time. “Perhaps it will be easier for us than for Cadra. I don’t know if I could bear to leave this place and live among the barbarians.”

  “You’ve sent Cadra away?”

  She nodded. “He, at least, believed my vision. He didn’t want to leave me, but I told him it was Ra’s will and there had to be someone to tell the tale of Kantalan and summon the four who come after.”

  “Where did you send him? Tenochtitlán?”

  “Do you think I’m mad?” Her voice was suddenly harsh. “You told me yourself Montezuma made over five hundred human sacrifices last year. He has forsaken the true way of Quetzalcoatl. Do you realize he would have had me buried alive for the offense I committed? We were right to cut off all communication with that colony when the blood sacrifices started. I will not give them Cadra or Kantalan to sacrifice on their altars.”

  He chuckled. “So fierce.” His lips brushed her cheek again. “Where did you send him?”

  “To the north. It is better that he live with the primitives than with those monsters who have forgotten that civilized cultures cannot be founded on earth soaked with blood.” She drew a deep shaky breath. “We have accomplished so much here. Legend says the homeplace was better but I cannot believe it. Kantalan is—” She paused, searching for a word. “Ra.”

  “Now, your humorless priests really would consider that blaspheming.” His breath was warm as he laughed softly in her ear. “I think I’m jealous. I don’t want you to be thinking of Kantalan while I’m holding you like this.” His arm tightened around her. “And I’d like you to tell me you love me again. Will you do that, Sayan?”

  “Why should you doubt it? After what—”

  He could feel sudden tension stiffen the muscles of her spine. “What’s wrong?” His own body tautened in response, his gaze searching the streets below for some unknown danger.

  Sayan realized he hadn’t felt the trembling beneath their feet, yet it was far stronger than the tremor she had noticed earlier. Her gaze fled to the Sun Child’s peak framed against the moonlit sky. Nothing. No sign of even a whiff of smoke issuing from the mouth of the volcano. Not yet. They still had time.

  She turned in his arms and buried her cheek against the warm smoothness of his naked shoulder. “Please go. Please leave me, Dalkar.”

  “Be quiet.” His voice was rough as his fingers tangled in her shining dark mane as he tilted her head back to gaze into her eyes. For once there was no laughter in his own eyes. They were direct and grave and so loving, she felt as if Ra had flooded the night with sunlight. Her entire being was floating on that stream of light. “I don’t know anything about your visions or your gods. All I know is what we have together. I could no more leave you now than I could change what I feel for you. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” He would not leave her. Pain, joy, regret. The emotions tumbled through her in a wild cataract of feeling. “I understand.”

  “Good.” The gravity vanished from his expression and he smiled down at her. “Now will you tell me you love me?”

  “I love you. I will love you until there is no sun, no moon, and no homeplace on this earth.”

  He kissed her lightly. “My solemn little Sayan, you are nothing if not extravagant. I would have been content with a promise involving the rest of our lives.”

  He still did not believe her, she realized sadly. She would waste no more time trying to convince him. Time was far too precious now. Her lashes lowered to veil her eyes. “Will you lie with me?”

  A flicker of surprise crossed his face. “You wish to merge?”

  She shook her head. “I’d like to lie in your arms.” Her lips were trembling as she tried to smile. “We have never lain together without merging. I would like very much to hold you with gentleness and love.”

  He didn’t answer for a moment, and she could sense the waves of emotions emanating from him with the same clarity as she had sensed the trembling of the Sun Child. He stepped back. “I would like that very much also, my love.” He held the silver curtain for her. “Though I won’t promise we won’t merge before this night wanes.”

  “I ask no promises.” No promises were necessary. The time was near. She unfastened the yellow-diamond clasp of her ceremonial cloak and draped its brilliant folds across the backless chair against the wall. She moved across the room to the golden-hued cushions of the couch in the center of the chamber. He was there before her and held out his arms to draw her down into his embrace.

  “Just hold me, Dalkar.”

  He was gently stroking the dark tendrils of hair at her temples. She was no longer afraid. How wonderful that love could banish fear. She knew a stab of poignant regret, and then that also faded away. It was not the end. Love did not end and there had been the promise …

  Her gaze fastened dreamily on the silver filigree drapes at the balcony door. The curtains were glittering in the candlelight, the fretwork forming lacy patterns against the indigo of the night sky. She heard the faintest tinkle of sound, as if the heavy draperies were being stirred by an errant gust of wind. But there was no wind on this hot summer night … not the slightest breath of a wind.

  1

  June 12, 1870

  Hell’s Bluff, Arizona Territory

  “Rein in! This is a holdup!”

  As the deep-voiced command had been preceded by four gunshots, one of which skimmed the brim of his hat, Ben Travis decided it behooved him to obey … and fast. He glanced with longing at the shotgun beside him in the boot of the stagecoach, then reluctantly pulled up the horses just short of the lone bandit standing square in the center of the road ahead.

  A thrill of panic darted through Elspeth MacGregor, and her hand unconsciously tightened on the black grosgrain reticule she carried. She mustn’t be forced to give up the little money she possessed. If Dominic Delaney wasn’t still at Hell’s Bluff, where her father had last made contact with him, she would have to search for him. Heaven only knew how long it would take and how much it would cost to find him.

  “Do not be frightened, mademoiselle.”

  Those slightly accented words were the first the plump young man across from Elspeth had spoken since the stage had left Tucson. Her fellow passenger had appeared to be dozing continuously since their early morning departure, and Elspeth had felt relieved to be ignored by him and left to her own thoughts. Now, however, the man’s dark eyes were blazing with excitement.

  “I’ve read about t
hese desperadoes,” he said, “and they have a. certain code. The would never tamper with the virtue of a respectable lady such as yourself. They want only our money.”

  Only! Elspeth came close to laughing aloud. Women as plain as she seldom had problems with would-be ravishers, so she hadn’t a fear on that score. But she did fear being robbed; she had to have money on which to live until she could find Dominic Delaney. She had a little gold secreted in her trunk, but most of her remaining funds were in the reticule she was clutching so desperately. “Do you have a weapon?” she asked her plump companion. “We could try to overpower them. We cannot just let them rob us.”

  He blinked. The woman facing him was small, quite fragile-looking really, and her voice was sweetly melodious despite its urgent tone. The mere suggestion from her of trying to overpower even the weakest of men seemed ludicrous to him. Deciding fear was robbing her of good sense, he said soothingly, “I do not think it would be wise to challenge these fellows. They’re probably very dangerous.” He shrugged his shoulders and the fine biscuit-colored broadcloth of his fashionable coat scarcely rippled. “Naturally,” he said forcefully, “if you weren’t present, I would confront these outlaws.”

  “Naturally,” she echoed dryly. He appeared to be accepting this robbery with equanimity, even a certain amount of pleasure. Judging by the beautifully crafted leather boots and expensive clothes of this calm individual, she suspected he could easily afford to lose the money he carried with him. She could not. “Do you have a pistol?” she asked.

  He looked slightly affronted. “Of course I have a pistol. A very fine derringer.”

  “May I borrow it?”

  He blinked again. “Do you know how to fire a pistol?”

  “I haven’t the slightest notion how to do so, but at least I can threaten those bandits with it.” She straightened briskly and held out her small, gloved hand. “Please.”

  Clearly astonished at what she wished to do, he blustered, “I do not think—”