Destiny's Lovers Read online

  “Look here.” Sidra moved to the very edge of the rock shelf, pointing downward. Janina stepped forward to stand beside her. “See how far Reid had to climb. What a determined man he is. I think he will prove difficult to overcome. I will need to strengthen myself against him. Lean over and look, Janina.”

  At the thought of that great height, Janina’s knees began to shake, but she made herself obey Sidra. Looking straight downward into the deep, deep ravine made her feel dizzy.

  Sidra’s hand came to rest on her shoulder, pressing a little too hard. Janina pulled away and stepped back into the tunnel.

  “Why, Janina, do you imagine I’d push you?” Sidra smiled her lovely, false smile. “I’d never do anything that stupid. There would be too many questions to answer. I’d be known at once for the guilty one.”

  She put an arm across Janina’s shoulders, drawing her back through the tunnel to the grove.

  “Why should I want to destroy you when you can be so useful to me, Janina? Of course, your usefulness will not last long, and then …”

  Sidra left the thought unfinished, but Janina knew what she meant. When Tamat was gone, when it was no longer necessary to please the aged High Priestess, when Sidra herself was High Priestess, and after she had forced Janina to swallow the herbal potion again and again until her mind was broken by prophesying, then Janina’s usefulness would end. Then Sidra would find a reason to set Janina adrift, to face the terrors of the deep sea. And then she would find a way to destroy Reid, too.

  Janina knew it as surely as if she were a telepath and had entered Sidra’s mind. Under the weight of Sidra’s arm, Janina shivered, and watched Sidra smile at her again.

  On the walk back to the temple, with the Water for the priestesses’ rituals safely sealed into the jar on her back, Janina’s thoughts turned once more to Reid. How brave he was to scale that steep cliff! She would have been too frightened to attempt it. She was afraid of so many things - the great height from which she had just looked down, the vast rolling sea, the monsters that lived in its depths. The list of her fears seemed endless.

  Until today, her worst fear of all had been the fear of losing Tamat. It was because she knew how precarious the old woman’s health was that Janina had never revealed to Tamat any of the threats, veiled or open, which Sidra made about the time when Tamat would be gone and Janina would be helpless against the power of her successor.

  Now Janina had a new and even greater fear, that something would happen to Reid, that Sidra would make something happen to him. It was worse than contemplating her own death. It rivaled the pain of knowing that Tamat could not live much longer. Janina wanted Reid safe and well. She would do anything to help him, anything that would not harm Tamat.

  She ought not to feel that way about Reid. She had taken sacred vows that forbade her from thinking of men. But she knew him; in the deepest reaches of her soul he was part of her, and she would give her life, if necessary, to protect him.

  * * * * *

  “Will you take me to Tamat, please?” When Reid’s deep grey eyes met hers, Janina looked away, knowing she ought not to respond to the warmth she had seen in his expression.

  “You should be resting, Reid, and not out so early in the day. Tamat wanted you to have adequate time to recover from your ordeal in the wilderness,” she said.

  “I slept well last night and I feel perfectly healthy,” Reid told her.

  “Is your room comfortable?” she asked politely, to keep him there in the temple courtyard with her while she thought about his request. Tamat was in private conversation with Sidra and could not be disturbed. It would not do to have Reid bursting in on them. Both priestesses would be angry if that happened, and if Sidra learned that Janina had done nothing to prevent such an intrusion, she would find a way to punish Janina, and probably Reid, too.

  “My room is delightful,” Reid said with just a touch of impatience. “The two scholar-priests who live in the same building are charming young men. Osiyar is an agreeable and pleasant host. I want to see Tamat.”

  “If you have questions about Ruthlen, you should ask Osiyar,” she said, growing nervous under his steady gaze. “Tamat has ordered him to explain the customs of Ruthlen to you, so you will not offend the villagers. Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m certain you would never offend anyone.”

  “Except you. I have offended you. I’ve made you feel uneasy with me.” He put out one hand as if to take her arm. Janina moved backward quickly to avoid him, afraid that if he touched her, she would do something she should not do. Such as touch him in return. Or melt into his arms and beg him to kiss her. She was certain he saw her fear, for he withdrew his hand. But then he moved a step closer, further disconcerting her by his nearness.

  “Janina,” he said in a hard, firm voice, “take me to Tamat. Now.”

  “But she is with Sidra.”

  “Indeed she is not,” said a sweet voice behind Janina, “for I am here. Good day to you, Reid. You wish to see Tamat? Could not I help you instead?”

  “I prefer to speak with Tamat.”

  The faintest shadow of annoyance passed over Sidra’s lovely face, then cleared.

  “Janina, you should be ashamed of yourself for keeping our guest standing here in the hot midday sun. Take him inside at once. Offer him something cool to drink, and then ask Tamat if she will receive him. Do it now, girl! Don’t dawdle so!” In a swirl of pale blue robe, Sidra left them and walked across the courtyard toward Osiyar’s house.

  “If you will follow me.” Janina led the way into the temple.

  “Is she always so sharp with you?” Reid asked.

  “She’s very busy,” Janina said. “She has many duties, and I fear I am a poor help to her. I’m not very intelligent, you see, so I’m fortunate to be permitted to live in the temple complex at all. It is only Tamat’s goodness that allows such a deviation from the requirements for a priestess, even a lesser priestess, as I shall be.”

  “Even if everything you’ve just said is true, which I doubt, that is still no excuse for rudeness,” Reid declared.

  “Sidra doesn’t mean to be rude. It’s just the way she is. Would you like cool water, or perhaps some fruit?” When Reid refused any refreshment, Janina left him in the central room while she went to speak to Tamat.

  “She will see you,” she said, returning a few moments later. “Reid, please be kind to her. We in Ruthlen frequently live to be well over one hundred years old, but Tamat’s health is fragile and she has grown weaker in the last year. She has asked that I remain with her, in case she needs assistance. Will you mind that?”

  “Not at all,” Reid said, giving her a long, steady look that made her blush.

  “Well, Reid,” said Tamat as soon as he entered her chamber, “what do you want of me this day?”

  “I want to leave Ruthlen. I want you to help my friend and my cousin.”

  “You are an impatient man, I fear.” Tamat sat in a large armchair carved from white stone, which was softened by thick green cushions on the seat and back. She motioned to a similar chair next to hers. “I have not yet decided what I will do about your companions. You may not leave us. If there is anything else you would like to discuss, I will be happy to converse with you.”

  “I do have a few questions,” Reid admitted, seating himself in the chair Tamat had indicated.

  Janina saw he was hiding anger in an effort to be polite to Tamat. She thought she could understand how he must feel, being prevented from doing the one thing he wanted. But in time he would learn to accept his fate, as she was learning to accept hers. He would have to learn. There was nothing else he could do.

  That morning was the first of many when Reid visited Tamat to ask her innumerable questions about the people who lived in Ruthlen. Janina came to love those visits. From her position behind Tamat’s chair she could watch him without being obvious about it, and she could occasionally answer one of his questions herself under the guise of sparing Tamat the effor
t.

  “You are more attentive than usual these days,” Tamat said to her one morning just before Reid arrived. “Is it concern for my welfare, or interest in Reid that brings you to me when you need not be here?”

  “I am always concerned about you, Tamat,” she answered quietly, “but I must confess to a great interest in what we can learn from an outsider. You have always told me that knowledge ought to be my primary quest, that in time I might be able to use it as some poor compensation for my lack of telepathic ability. I know my wits are of inferior quality, but I try to exercise them as much as possible.”

  “There is nothing wrong with your wits, Janina,” Tamat observed dryly. “Sometimes I suspect they are a bit too quick. Well, stay with me and learn what you can from Reid. I always enjoy your presence. Only, do not let Sidra grow annoyed with you, as she will if you neglect your other duties.”

  “Yes, Tamat.” Janina told herself that her desire to be in the same room with Reid was perfectly innocent. Daily she tested her resistance to the attraction she still felt toward him. She had to teach herself to be strong, to adhere scrupulously to the vows she had so nearly violated with Reid. She could never give herself to him, and she told herself that in time she would find joy in having sacrificed her selfish longings in order to better serve the temple and Ruthlen. She would not allow herself to deviate again from the Chosen Way.

  That morning Tamat told Reid how their ancestors had survived the Cetan attack of six hundred years before. Janina had heard the story many times, yet still she listened with undiminished pride in the accomplishments of the founders of Ruthlen.

  “There were just twenty of our people,” Tamat said, “who were deep in a nearby forest cutting wood for charcoal, and some were gathering medicinal herbs. When they realized what was happening in the city, and knew they could not help, they fled still deeper into the forest where they found a cave and hid in it. At their bidding, the Chon drew the Cetans in another direction and thus saved our ancestors. After that day’s terrible battle, all the telepaths in the settlement were dead and the Chon were lost to us forever.”

  “Not everyone was killed.” Reid told Tamat what he knew about Dulan and the other survivors, and about the Chon who still lived at the lake.

  “I am happy to learn that the great birds are not extinct,” Tamat said. “They were once a vital part of our history. But I know of no one named Dulan. Our records were destroyed along with the beautiful city of Tathan and the farmlands surrounding it. All we have left of the time before the Cetan raid is memory. The few people who remained alive decided to flee far away from Tathan and hide themselves, hoping thereby to escape another Cetan intrusion. After a long and difficult journey, they arrived here and built this small village, where we live by fishing and farming.”

  “Did they also build the pavilion inside the mountain?” asked Reid.

  “They made the pool a sacred spot, because the Water in it is clear and perfectly pure,” Tamat replied. “You should not have been there. Even Osiyar may not go there. It is a place reserved for priestesses only. Do not return to it.”

  “I hope you will not punish Janina because I was there.”

  “No. Your presence in the grove was not her doing.” Then, looking deep into his eyes, the High Priestess added, “She is not meant for any man, Reid. Do not touch her again.”

  Tamat had never said a word to Janina about the day when she had found Reid, though Janina knew Tamat understood what they had almost done. Now, Janina felt herself blushing, and she saw Reid’s face flush at Tamat’s direct order, but he made no promise. Instead, he asked Tamat another question.

  “Can you tell me why the computer model of the continent we have at our headquarters does not show the area around Ruthlen? According to our information, the forest extends to the very edge of steep cliffs, which fall off directly into the sea. We have no information about the ravine, or the mountain range, or the village.”

  “We use a blanking shield,” Tamat replied. “All who are full priestesses, including myself, take turns maintaining it. The images you spoke of are exactly what outsiders are expected to see. It is our protection against a Cetan return, or against anyone else who would harm us. No one can enter the shield unless we wish it.”

  “I got through it,” Reid pointed out.

  “Yes,” Tamat said, looking at him strangely.

  “You maintain this shield with your minds?” Reid then asked.

  “We do,” Tamat answered. “We have strengthened it since you have come, Reid. You will not be able to breach it a second time.” She smiled at him, but Reid understood the threat implicit in her words. He could not blame her. She had a right to protect her people in the way she believed was best. But he had a right, too; the right to seek his freedom.

  * * * * *

  “Reid, why are you pacing back and forth across the courtyard?” When he swung around to glare at her, Janina saw that his grey eyes were dark with anger. She faced him trembling, yet determined not to back down until she knew what was troubling him. She attempted a smile, though in his present mood he frightened her. Gathering what little courage she possessed, she tried again. “You look like a caged animal.”

  “Do I? Perhaps I look caged because that is what I am.”

  “Oh, no. Never that.”

  “Then what would you call it?” he demanded, frowning down at her.

  “You are our guest,” she said. “You are perfectly free to go wherever you want within the boundaries of Ruthlen, which is the same freedom the rest of us have.”

  “Janina, you know as well as I do that I am a prisoner here.”

  “Don’t say that.” She wanted to touch him, but she could not, not here in the open courtyard, where anyone could see them. “It hurts me to know you are so deeply unhappy.”

  “Does it hurt you enough that you’d help me escape?”

  “Escape?” She stared at him, terrified by the idea. “Don’t even think of such a thing.”

  “Why not?” His voice was harsh and filled with anger. Janina watched him trying to control his feelings until he spoke more calmly, yet still with strong emotion. “I am being kept here against my will. Therefore, I have the right to try to escape if I want. You people don’t seem to understand that I have a life, and friends, and important work, beyond Ruthlen. I want to return to all that. I wish your High Priestess would believe I’d never bring others here if you want to remain isolated. Commander Tarik would respect Tamat’s wishes, too. What about the sea? I’m a fairly good sailor.”

  “The sea?” He must think she was incredibly stupid if she could do nothing except echo his words, but the sudden question had surprised her. She answered him promptly and definitely. “You can’t leave by the sea. Once you reached deep water the sea monsters would eat you. That’s why the fisherfolk only go as far away from the shore as the near side of the swift current.”

  “Monsters?” He looked as though he would burst into laughter.

  “Besides,” she added quickly, seeing that he did not believe her about the monsters, “you could be observed from the village until you were far enough out at sea to be below the horizon. There is no place to hide out there.”

  “That kind of thinking I can understand,” he said, nodding. “As for sea monsters - well, there may be something in the deep water that I don’t know about. I’ll accept that much of your sea monster story. I’ll have to go by land then.”

  “Don’t. Reid, please don’t. You will only be caught and brought back here. Then you truly will be a prisoner. Please accept your fate. It’s the best thing for you. It’s the safest thing.”

  “Janina, why are you loitering here with this man?” Sidra had come up to them so quietly that her question startled both of them. They had been standing close together, talking in low tones. Now they hastily moved apart. Sidra acted as though she had caught them in some forbidden activity, but her voice was silky-smooth. “Stay away from her, Reid. There are women enough in the vill
age to assuage your lust, if that is what you want.”

  “We were only talking,” Janina declared, feeling like a naughty child under Sidra’s mocking gaze.

  “Tamat needs you,” Sidra said. “While you have been wasting the day with Reid, our High Priestess has been waiting patiently for her neglectful attendant. As for you, Reid, go to Osiyar and ask of him the questions you were asking Janina. I’m sure he can give you more intelligent answers than she ever will.”

  “We will talk again, Janina,” Reid said.

  “No,” Sidra told him, “you will not, for if you do, I will see to it that Tamat punishes both of you.”

  “How?” snarled Reid. “By taking away my nonexistent freedom?”

  “Ah, Reid,” Sidra replied with a soft trill of laughter. “You have no idea what punishment means until you have been punished by a telepath.”

  “Reid,” Janina said, trembling now in as much fear for him as she had earlier been afraid of him, “please obey Sidra. You must learn to follow our customs.”

  With Sidra close at her back, Janina hurried toward the temple.

  “I’ll be watching you,” Sidra said.

  “I know,” Janina replied. “You always watch me, to catch me in any mistake.”

  “Insolence is not the proper way to deal with me,” Sidra murmured as they went through the double doors and into the central room. “I require from you the respect due to my position.”

  “Yes, Sidra.” It was useless to defy the woman. In any contest of wills between Janina and Sidra, Sidra had always won. Janina thought she always would.

  “Dear Tamat.” Sidra’s voice was suddenly khata-sweet when they reached the door of Tamat’s private chamber. “I have found our errant scholar priestess in the courtyard, exchanging mysterious confidences with Reid. You will have to ask her the subject of their talk, for she won’t tell me.”