WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) Read online

  Lindha’s brows lifted in amazement. “Why didn’t you return to civilization?”

  “I did … once.” He gave her a sardonic grin. “I found that your world does not look kindly upon off-worlders.”

  “Of course. You could have been killed.” Lindha said with sudden understanding. “It must have been difficult to live so roughly and alone for so long. Why, you would have only been a child when you came to Opan.”

  “True.” His eyes met hers. “But I’m not a child anymore.”

  Lindha cleared her throat. Her face colored slightly, but her expression remained composed. “How did you live?”

  “I had help. You helped me.”

  “Me?”

  “How are Dorian and Anton? They must be about thirteen by now.”

  “Oh. You are the off-worlder who found Dorian in the woods. Of course. Both boys are wonderful assets to our order. I thank you.” She looked toward the talisman guard that adorned his muscular arm, noticing the empty place where two of the facets had been removed. “Oh, I see. We must return those two Damithst, I think.”

  “No!”

  Lindha went still at Ash’s swift, adamant refusal. His reaction had evidently surprised her but it had surprised him as well. He glanced toward the King’s Mirror that circled his bicep. He could have sworn it had heated his arm in response to her words. Ash had had a curious thought. He felt as if the two stones that had been removed from the talisman had wanted to be removed, that they had preferred to be on an adventure of their own. Bizarre. He supposed that he must be getting drunk.

  Ash shrugged, in an attempt to lighten the violence of his response. “I don’t want them back. The trade was fair, I assure you. My life became much more comfortable with the goods and credit you supplied.” Curiously uncomfortable discussing the Damithst jewels, Ash changed the subject. “Do the boys live here?”

  “Oh, yes. They are indentured as gardeners for the estate.”

  “I’d like to see them.”

  “Of course and so you shall. They’ll be pleased to see you; at least I know Dorian will be. For some while when he first came to us he expected a catch to all his good fortune. I believe you went a long way toward restoring his faith in humanity. He was so grateful to receive Icom.”

  Ash smiled, recalling how powerfully driven the intense young boy had been. “I can well imagine.”

  “But this ring on your neck, Ash?” She touched the cold metal. “How did you acquire this?

  Ash frowned. “That …” His throat tightened and he found he was quite unable to answer. The room darkened as he fell into the memory. For more than three months he had been alone and in despair. Unable to mind-touch, he had been tormented by his fears, doubts and guilt. The pain of that solitude was still as raw and unhealed as his open wound. The indignities suffered with the curious hill people, the terror of a brutal death in the pit — these recollections closed in on him and made him silent.

  The Ladies waited for his reply, and thankfully didn’t press him. Did they have any idea of the raw nerve they had touched? Ash sighed and said in a low voice, “I can tell you that there are some ignorant people who live in the hills of your world. They imprisoned me with neck and leg chains to do their work in a mine. I was lucky to escape.”

  “Well. It is a good thing you did,” Lady Lindha said firmly. She flashed him a kind smile. “We welcome you here.”

  Ash’s heart seemed to stop when Lindha smiled. He felt like he had been punched. He actually forgot to breathe for an instant, and for the life of him he couldn’t think of a single thing to say. After a few moments his mind cleared and he said, “Thank you, Sister, for sanctuary. You do know there are people searching for me? I don’t wish to endanger you.”

  “All is safe. We are honored to serve you.” Lindha gave him a small bow.

  “Drink more, please, Ash,” the Lady Jeeha said. “Then we must get started.”

  Ash complied, although it made his blood rush. Pleased to serve you … honored to serve you, he thought. He felt like the King that he had been meant to be, and for the first time it was comfortable and right. Soon the spirits began to take full effect. Everything seemed so amusing. Thank you, Jana. He gave a little giggle. Truly Taro the Deceiver had had his way with him. He was about to die: desperate, hopeless, no chance of escape. And now he was surrounded and cared for by kind and caring women who wanted to “serve” him?

  Ash pushed himself up suddenly. Chinters. Am I dreaming?

  “What is it, Ash?” Lindha gently pressed him back to the infirmary table. “You’re all right. Everything is going well.”

  His quiet chuckle turned into a laugh. “It’s nothing,” he said. “For a moment I was worried I was dreaming and about to wake up. Being here is just too good to be true.”

  “Well, you are here, Ash.” Lindha assured him. “And you’re safe.”

  When Lady Jeeha began to syringe the wound, Ash didn’t even flinch. He saw her nod of satisfaction as it was obvious that the potent alcohol had numbed his system.

  “You’re so lovely,” Ash said, focusing on Lindha. Without the strong drink he would never have said such a thing.

  “You … you’re too kind,” she stammered, as color once more rushed to her face. “I dare say you are feeling those spirits now. Though why you remain conscious I’m sure I don’t know.”

  Ash continued to study her. It was as if she hadn’t spoken. “You have beautiful blue eyes, like my mother.”

  “Thank you,” she said and changed the subject. “Does that hurt?”

  Jeeha hummed a soft, tuneless little melody while she worked. She bent over, intent, as she moved deeper and deeper into Ash’s wound. There was still a lot of debris being rinsed out, draining into the bowl as she continued syringing clean warm water and antiseptic.

  Ash was barely aware of Jeeha or what she was doing. His attention was fixed on Lindha. He ignored her question and said, “Blue, like … Delian Damithst.” Ash stared at her in a hazy, happy state. Ash felt he knew Lindha. He had dreamed of her so many times, whimsically, erotically and sometimes just because. Her presence had always been there in the back of his mind. There was something about her, something comfortable and right. He wanted to stay with her, be near her. With her golden hair pulled severely back it accentuated the fine-boned features of her face. It could be the effect of the spirits or it could be the influence she was having on him, but for whatever reason Ash was having two extremely different reactions to her presence.

  One was calming. The other … wasn’t.

  Jeeha continued to irrigate his wound, but the syringe kept tapping into something solid. Ash winced each time she touched it. Clearly there was a foreign body up there, embedded at the upper reaches of the injury. She located the long-handled forceps in order to remove it. Sliding the instrument up into the wound and delicately probing, she inadvertently caused fresh blood to flow.

  “Ahh,” Ash voiced through clenched teeth. When Jeeha continued probing, he groaned but remained perfectly still. Lindha sponged the beads of perspiration that he felt forming on his forehead.

  “What do we have here?” Jeeha said with surprised triumph, scrutinizing the object she had removed. “It’s a piece of bone … but not yours. It was well up into the wound. Most unusual.”

  “Probably from the pig-dogs,” Ash slurred. The combination of fresh pain and additional spirits made him light headed and confused.

  “The pig-dogs?” Lindha queried.

  “Never mind, Lady,” Jeeha said. “He’s speaking nonsense.”

  “No.” Ash knew he sounded like he was rambling, but he wanted to make them understand. “Was probably from the dogs. They went first, and then the boar, and then the other boar, twill … it was cruel. I was the last … but nothing else to throw in. Just an off-world slave.”

  Lindha’s brow furrowed, her expression puzzled.

  “I was so scared,” he confided, “but it was a good thing to go into the pit after all. I was able
to escape. It seems it is true, that old saying from the parables: ‘Oftentimes bad circumstance result in greatest good.’” He sighed and all the sadness of the world seemed to be held within that one expulsion of breath. “Else I’d be dead … rather die than go back in the mine. I don’t want to be alone.” In his mind he was there, trapped again, in the dark, lonely cave, the place where he lost his power.

  “Shhhhh, hush now, Ash,” Lindha said, comfortingly patting his arm. “We won’t leave you alone.”

  Ash looked up, astonishing her with momentary sensibility. “Thank you. You are as kind-hearted as you are beautiful.” Without warning he asked, “Are you promised?”

  Lindha shook her head.

  “Good,” Ash said and all his sadness instantly disappeared. He smiled.

  “But I am Prefect here,” Lady Lindha said, with alarm in her voice. “I have taken an oath of chastity.”

  The smile left Ash’s face. “Oh. I … see.”

  Ash didn’t flinch while Jeeha finished stitching his wound. The sharp, stabbing needle pains to his skin were nothing compared to the pain in his heart. The Lady Lindha had taken spiritual vows. She wouldn’t have him. But he knew her. He had never forgotten the soothing contact of her mental touch, the purity of her soul. As utterly irrational as it seemed, he had already given his heart to her. The Opan wolves chose once and mated for life. Unknown to Ash, that pattern had subtly imprinted itself on his psyche. With wolf-like logic, quite unconsciously, Ash knew he wanted only Lindha and no other.

  Lindha gave him more alcohol, which Ash took with gratitude. Befuddled, head already spinning, Ash drained the cup. The misery of thinking he would never be able to court Lindha made him want to drink himself into a stupor.

  There was a tap on the door. “Come,” Lindha said.

  It was Tjeeha. “Lady,” she said as she burst in. Observing that Ash was awake, she held her tongue.

  “Another pretty Lady!” Ash exclaimed in disbelief. “Oh, Chinters. Are you sure I’m not dead?”

  Lindha held his head and met him eye to eye, forcing him to pay attention. When she spoke there was the steel of command in her voice. “You are not dead. You are not dreaming. But you do need to be quiet. I need to speak to this Temple Sister.”

  Lindha’s face swam outlandishly, but Ash understood. Contrite, he nodded.

  The Lady Tjeeha stared uncertainly at Ash. “It’s all right, Tjeeha.” Lindha said firmly. “We have no secrets from the Trueborn,”

  Trueborn? Ash thought in confusion. How did she know that he was Trueborn? As far as he knew that was solely a Delian term. What would an off-worlder know of being Trueborn? He frowned, realizing that he must have said something earlier, but he couldn’t recall. He was Trueborn, but his love was stillborn. Ash caught himself. He was also lovesick and thinking in stupid rhymes. What’s more, it was becoming clear to him that he was very, very drunk.

  “Lady,” Tjeeha began. “There is a worldwide search occurring at this moment for the, ah, Trueborn.” She looked down fearfully at Ash. “It is said that the off-worlder killed many tame herd beasts in the mountains. He is considered to be out of his mind, as well as dangerous and cruel.”

  Ash began to giggle. “Oh, that’s funny. A faultless illustration of Jana’s parable, isn’t it? ‘One always accuses others of what they themselves are guilty of.’” Ash didn’t stop his silly giggling until the Lady Lindha silenced him with a hand on his shoulder and a stern look.

  “I see,” Lindha said to Tjeeha. Her expression hardened. “I was afraid of this. Quickly. Go and give a message to the Lady Carrah. Tell her that I request an audience immediately.”

  “But, Prefect, she’s in the chapel.”

  Lindha’s lips pressed together in disapproval, visibly displeased with having her orders questioned. “Thank you, Tjeeha. I am well aware of that fact. However, I need her here. Now.”

  “Yes, Prefect.” Red faced, fully cognizant of the rebuke, she left to carry out her orders.

  Ash was now hopelessly drunk and his attentions were all toward the Prefect. “Lindha, Lindha, Lindha,” he slurred in a little tuneless melody. “Lovely, lovely Lindha, with the lovely golden hair.”

  “Ash,” Lindha said testily, stopping his distracting song. “Drink,” she commanded. She offered him more spirits, which effectively prevented him from continuing to sing. Ash finished another cup. Then he shut his eyes and relaxed into a deep, deep sleep.

  24. New Life

  The choosing of a Temple Novice is simple. Deportment, countenance, and manner: these can be taught. Courage, dedication, integrity, and honor: these develop naturally through living with other Sisters of Jana. Beauty is easily fashioned and must never be ignored. Facial features, hair, teeth, skin: few Novices escape cosmetic adjustment. Physical perfection is paramount but unproblematic. So, from the thousands of candidates, how to discriminate? Take a female child, preferably six years or younger, and let them hold the Damithst. If the gem reacts the child will succeed as a Temple Sister.

  — Sister Fayha Cattell, Notes on the Novice

  Jeeha nodded toward Ash and said, “He’s out.”

  ‘Are you sure?” Lindha said hopefully, but she remained unconvinced. “By the Goddess, he’s been such a trial.”

  Jeeha nodded her agreement. “Very difficult,” she laughed, “for you.” She gave Linda a wry, teasing smile as she pulled a long stitch through Ash’s skin. “I don’t think the Trueborn was as taken with me as he was with you, Prefect.”

  Lindha rolled her eyes. “I noticed that, too.” She gave Ash’s arm a pinch, just to make sure, but it didn’t wake him. The Trueborn was asleep. Lindha grinned, pleased that he had fallen into unconsciousness. She looked up at Jeeha. When their eyes met they both laughed out loud.

  “Prefect,” Jeeha said, “May I ask why you told the Trueborn that you had taken vows of chastity?”

  Lindha shrugged. “Just to give myself time, I guess. He was so relentless and truthfully he made me uncomfortable with all that attention.” Her comment concerning chastity, while not a lie, had been intentionally misleading. The Seer’s prophecy was explicit. The Prefect was chaste by Temple order; but only until the Trueborn came or until the age of thirty. It was the duty of the Prefect to serve the Trueborn in whatever way required, including sexually if that was his desire. She met Jeeha’s eyes and snickered. “I doubt he will remember anything, we got him so drunk.”

  “Indeed.” Jeeha gave a soft chuckle. “I’m just glad he wasn’t sick.”

  Lindha hadn’t known how to deal with Ash or how to make him silent. As Prefect, no one had dared attempt to charm her before, or even called her beautiful. She was not naive, she had been trained in the sexual arts extensively, but the post of Prefect was inviolate, and she had always been treated with the utmost respect. The way Ash made constant romantic advances, well. She had no experience of such a thing. Awake he was a handful; asleep he looked peaceful and kind of sweet. As if he would be no trouble at all. She knew his sleeping appearance was deceiving. The man was going to be nothing but trouble.

  There was another tap at the door, and Lady Carrah entered. “Prefect?” Carrah queried, her face pale and drawn. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes, thank you, Carrah,” Lindha said. “Please, sit down.” Lindha studied the Lady Carrah for a moment. She was a slim woman. Her face was elvan, her hair tinged with flecks of orange and red, her skin transparent. Her eyes were light brown, and there was a sprinkling of freckles on her face. Carrah was on a list to have her freckles removed. Twice she had “forgotten” to attend the facial appointments. She had never voiced that she did not look approvingly upon the ordered physical alteration: she just had not turned up. Her manner of achieving goals was at one with her personality, subtle and unassuming

  Lindha hesitated, unsure of how to begin. It was cruel to make this request, but the timing had been provident. Dwanne and Carrah were orphaned young and forced to sign an Indentureship with a private enterprise, hand
harvesting fennel. Fennel was valuable for its properties, which yielded a unique form of absinthe. It was difficult to harvest without damaging the next crop. Lightweight children with small nimble fingers increased production and future yield. A Temple sister had seen Carrah and bought out her Indentureship. The child had sobbed, pleading that she would die without her brother. Thus Dwanne’s Indentureship had been purchased as well.

  Lindha said, “Tell me, Carrah, was your brother a believer?”

  “Yes, Prefect, surely.”

  “Carrah, this man is the Trueborn and, as in the Legend, he is an off-worlder.”

  Carrah drew in a sharp breath but said nothing.

  “However, he is in danger. Even now men are searching for him. I need your help.”

  “Of course, Prefect, anything. But how? What can I do?”

  “I need your brother’s body.”

  “No,” she said in a shocked sort of whisper.

  “Yes. I know he lies in state. Tell me, do you actually believe that empty shell holds your brother?”

  Carrah remained silent.

  “He is dead, and unless reborn, he is with Jana. Dwanne would be pleased to find that his cast-off shell was used to good purpose and we need it. The medical superintendent will attest to DNA and fingerprints. If his remains are found at the bottom of a cliff … if one of our sisters confirms that he had an off-world accent, then the Trueborn will be safe.” Lindha paused, ensuring Carrah understood. “If no corpse is found then the guards will continue their search, and our Temple, all of us, will be in danger.”

  “But will Dwanne not even have a grave?”

  “I cannot tell you where his earthly form will finally rest, Carrah. I am sorry, but it will not be here at the Temple, and it will not be under his own name. You will not be able to visit the place.”