WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) Page 37

  He was glad to have gotten Jani some company, too. The proud old woman would never have allowed his help. He was grateful to have found that Sister Tabatha had been pursuing a doctorate involving those living on the fringe. After an introduction, Jani became a source of fascination for Sister Tabatha. After a few anxious days of persuasion filled with surly grunts, few words and much uncertainty, the two women had hit it off. Jani decided to help Tabatha by allowing her to live with her while gathering information.

  He smiled, recalling when Lindha and he had taken their leave. Jani had nodded and said, “This Tabatha will do. This old shell don’t look much, but Jana knows what’s inside. Shame to let all I know go to ground with these old bones.” She had looked at Lindha then with eyes narrowed and said, “Best you look after this stupid man-child, girl. It’s a wonder he’s got this far on his own.” Straight-faced, she had nodded and turned away. Ash had noticed the similarity then, between Jani and the Prefect. They both hid emotion behind composed and controlled exteriors.

  Sideso’s mouth frothed. The elderly mare crunched contentedly and the tangy smell of sour apple saturated the warm summer air. He leaned over and stroked the little mare. She was happy to let him pat her, as long as he gave her apples. Ash was more or less content caring for the Temple horses. Things were far from perfect, however. He was no longer able to mind-touch people and would probably never recover that ability. The river of his mind was blocked. Nightmares made him irritable, and he alternated between absurd fits of guilt, despair and rage. Ash worked hard to overcome his passions. He was well aware that he could be dangerously irrational at times.

  According to the Testimonials, “The Dark Sankomin, unresolved, will cause madness and despair.” Ash needed healing mind-touch, and as he was the last Delian alive he was clearly out of luck. How much time did he have before he went mad? Would he be aware of his insanity or would it happen gradually like it had for Prime Minister Batalov the thrice damned? Ash didn’t delude himself. Without mind-touch, it would eventually come to that. He had been close to losing all reason a number of times already. If he hadn’t been able to mind-touch the animals over the last five years he suspected he would have gone utterly insane already.

  Thankfully, his mental block was only on humans. Mind-touch with animals — honest, uncluttered minds, with pure and simple spirits — soothed him. Mind-touch with people had mostly brought him guilt and despair. Ash shrugged. Perhaps losing the ability to mind-touch people was for the best

  Despite the tranquil atmosphere of the Temple, Ash knew that it was only a momentary break in the storm of his uncertain life. Forseth was still alive. It was up to him to track him down and put an end to him.

  There was another problem and that was the mystery of how to repay the Sisters of Jana. The Lady Lindha had never relinquished the duty of caring for him. She was the most important person in the Temple, but she still personally ensured his well-being and slept in an adjoining room. She slept in an adjoining room. Ash sighed, reflecting on this new brand of suffering and pain. Such a trial to sleep every night, knowing she was close. It caused indecision and hours of restless sleep not to open that door, to go to her. Yet it also caused him stomach-tightening happiness to know she was near.

  He had observed as Lindha shouldered the responsibility of Temple Prefect with a practiced ease, appearing tranquil no matter the circumstance. She was respected by all and spoke with natural command. There were so many unexpected facets to her personality. Kind and feminine, Ash found her surprisingly formidable in the defensive arts, attacking with swift ruthlessness. Always, after resoundingly defeating her opponent, she would then teach her victim the techniques employed in her triumph.

  Sideso had finished her apple, and was reaching her head through the fence to discover if Ash had anything else in his pockets. Chuckling at her greed, he patted her and moved back from the railing. He was the “Trueborn,” but what that meant to the Sisters and their beliefs, he had no idea. As far as he knew there was some reason that he was being honored, but everyone was close-mouthed about it. Many were afraid of him and others watched him as if they expected something; but what?

  He had been offered sexual liaison by lighthearted students and grave-faced Sisters alike; sometimes through subtle hints and sometimes through more direct suggestion. Some were his age, many quite a bit older. For some reason, perhaps because he was a stranger, everyone was incredibly friendly. They wanted to talk to him and to be with him, and initially he had reveled in the company. There was no impediment to accepting their advances, none at all. He had been polite, he had spent time with students and Sisters alike, but had refused sexual liaison. Word must have gotten around because the offers had stopped coming. He could kick himself, but there was only one person he wanted to bed: he had become obsessed with the Lady Lindha.

  Ash had made no direct approach nor had he professed his regard in any way, but by his manner she had to be aware of how he felt. He was working up the courage to ask her. He shook his head and grinned to himself in wry bemusement. He had never thought himself a coward, but he would rather face animal combat in the pit than to suffer the pain of her rejection. He recalled Lady Jeeha’s words in class, “It is a ruling of our order that the Prefect remains chaste for her tenure. This happens because of a sacred vow. A seer from the past has laid this burden upon us, and faithful to it we must remain.”

  Ash had to know, could Lindha break her pledge of chastity? Perhaps step down as Prefect? Was it possible that she might come to love him as he loved her?

  Ash breathed in deeply, trying to slow his heart rate, which started speeding up whenever he thought of confronting Lindha. He would leave that question for now. But next time he saw her he would at least get some answers. He needed to understand what the Sisters of Jana wanted and what the foretelling about the “Trueborn” was. She could at least tell him that.

  Ash heard soft, light steps and smelled a womanly, floral fragrance. He knew who had come.

  “Greetings, Trueborn,” a soft voice said from behind.

  He turned and smiled at the gentle, enchanting Lady Carrah. She had fine-boned features, a scattering of freckles, and a tentative smile that could not hide her grief. There was a tragic, compelling beauty about her that brought some masculine instinct of his to the fore. He wanted to protect her and somehow make her happy. Ash had no idea how to do that. Carrah had lost her brother, and seemed so sad. Ash had asked about the man who had been his substitute in death. Lady Lindha, unwillingly, had told him everything about Carrah’s brother Dwanne.

  “Hello, Lady Carrah,” he replied, and then hesitated, searching for the right words. “Lady, I’ve been hoping to speak with you. I wanted to thank you for what you …” He hesitated. “… what you and your brother did for me.”

  Carrah’s face whitened.

  Ash touched her arm. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I thought it would bring fresh pain.”

  “No, it’s nothing.” She smiled bravely. “Please, call me Carrah.”

  “Only if you call me Ash,” he said.

  “Of course,” she said. “Dwanne was fond of the animals, as you are. He would have been pleased to have been able to help you.” Her mouth curved, but her smile, as usual, seemed forced.

  Ash said, “I have heard nothing but good of your brother, Carrah. In my heart I feel I have known him. Many speak of Dwanne and there are numerous signs of his work throughout the stables, with a number of personally carved or created fittings and innovations. He was an organized man, your brother, and took honest care with the horses. I’m sure we would have been friends.”

  Carrah looked down at her hands, which she had tightly clasped in front of her.

  Ash took her hands in his own, holding them. They were cold. “Do you want to talk about it, Carrah?” he asked softly.

  Carrah looked up at him, and then pulled her hands away. “Please excuse me, Trueborn … ah, Ash. Your kind words about my brother give me such ple
asure, and yet to know that he is gone …” her voice broke. She tried again. “I am so glad … ” She paused and cleared her throat, and gave a faint smile. “Dwanne loved animals. I would like to talk to you about him, but perhaps not just yet. Um … it is too soon, you see.”

  Ash gave her arm a little squeeze, physically communicating that he understood how. “When you are ready, Lady, we shall walk all through the stables, you and I, and I will show you the countless efforts of your brother.” His voice took on a mischievous tone. He looked at her with a knowing smile and a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Then together we will admire his creations and laugh at his many and varied obsessive compulsions — because Dwanne was an exacting young man and he has left his stamp. I see signs of him wherever I go.”

  This dialog made Carrah giggle, easing the tension. “Yes, my loveable but irritating brother. You do sound as though you knew him, Ash. Dwanne’s heart was always in the details. He was precise. Every feature, every aspect, had to be perfect. ‘A place for everything and everything in its place’ was a favorite maxim. Another was, ‘A tool for every purpose and a purpose for every tool.’ Yes, Trueborn, when I am ready. I should like that.”

  Ash smiled back. He gave her arm another squeeze, pleased that her turmoil had settled for the time being.

  There was a movement from the Temple. Lindha walked toward them, dressed for warm weather in a short red summer dress and sandals. Her hair was down and the dress clung. A subtle scent drifted toward him, and Ash’s belly tightened. Lindha was wearing perfume. She didn’t wear it often, but she didn’t need it, either. She always smelled fantastic to him. He took in a deep breath and studied her in her dress. She looked fantastic, too.

  “Lady Lindha,” Ash nodded.

  “Hello, Prefect,” Carrah said.

  She nodded. “Good afternoon, Carrah, Ash.”

  Ash felt his stomach muscles tighten further. The sensation was not at all unpleasant. His pulse elevated as he surreptitiously studied Lindha’s face. He loved to hear the sound of his name on her tongue. What was it that attracted him so to her? Her face? Her figure? That smile? She was beautiful, that much was true — but there were plenty of stunning women to be found at Jana’s Temple. She had come here now. Was it to be near him? Or was he just imagining that Lindha sought him out more than others, that she honestly enjoyed his company? She always seemed so impartial and yet …

  All three turned and leaned, arms against the railing. Sideso, aware that there were no more treats, had left in disgust. Bethan was in the distance, happily rolling in the dust. Ash remembered hearing the phrase “achingly beautiful” to describe someone. He had never understood it until now. Lindha made him ache with actual physical pain. He burned with desire. Except this pain was not just physical; he felt it too deeply. He needed her like he needed to drink cool clear water; like he needed to breathe. He wanted Lindha more than he had ever wanted anything before.

  Was it just that she was out of reach as Prefect, due to her pledge of chastity? No, he decided. It was more than that. And unless he was imagining it, she was attracted to him, too. Like now. He could swear that she was actually jealous of the Lady Carrah’s attentions. Ash fervently hoped that his observations were correct. He wondered again, for the thousandth time, could she break her vows for him? And if she could, would she?

  “Tell me, Ash,” Lindha said, “has anyone else been able to mount Tarplan?”

  Ash shook his head regretfully. “No, I’m sorry, Lady. He asserts he’s a one-man horse.”

  She snorted and turned an accusing eye toward him. “You sound as though you have talked with Tarplan.”

  He turned toward her, one hand resting on the railing. “Of course. We all talk to animals. I’ve overheard you talking to Bethan myself.”

  “Yes, but they do not talk back to me.” She stressed the last word and then said, “Do they talk to you?”

  He shrugged. “Perhaps, Lady,” he replied evasively. Ash’s eyes narrowed as they caught hers. “Would you be surprised if I told you that they do?”

  Lindha looked away from his gaze. “No, not really.”

  The conversation stalled. Carrah excused herself and then the two of them were alone.

  “Lady Lindha,” Ash began, “I feel that it’s time I had some answers. Would you be willing to provide them?”

  “Of course.”

  He pointed toward a sloping trail that wound its way along the hills and up toward the mountain heights. “Perhaps we could walk?

  “As you wish.” She smiled and they moved off together, walking along the uphill path, spending some time in companionable silence. Without the wind the warm summer’s day was almost hot. A cloud covered the sun for a moment, putting them in shade, and Ash felt an instant temperature drop. The sky was a light emerald green, the trees soft violet and variegated blue, their foliage becoming darker, rich with the smell of healthy growing things as they passed under the cool canopies of shade.

  Lindha tripped on a protruding branch. Ash stepped toward her in his graceful, unhurried way; his hand flashed out and caught her. He held her arm, steadying her for a moment, enjoying the heat that flowed through him from the feel of her skin. Just as quickly he let her go.

  The trail narrowed and Lindha went first, Ash following closely behind. He enjoyed watching her easy, poised walk. He had been surprised when she tripped. Lindha was never clumsy. She had her attention on something. On him, perhaps? He certainly hoped so. Ash could still feel where her skin had touched his hand; it was as if he had been branded. That warmth seemed to flow, moving throughout his whole body.

  When they topped the local hills and could barely view the Temple buildings below, Ash said, “Lady Lindha.”

  “Please, when we’re alone, just call me Lindha.”

  “Thank you. Lindha,” he began again, “I need to understand. Suppose I confided in you. Would you confide in me?”

  “Certainly, as long as it didn’t break any of the vows I hold and honor as Prefect.”

  They sat together in the sun in a warm grassy area. Ash told her then his true identity, how he came to Opan, how he was capable of mind-touch with animals, and how he had lost his ability to touch people. He also spoke of his fear of the Dark Sankomin and the rivers of his mind, his mental block and recurring nightmares. Lindha was sympathetic, asking questions, grieving at the loss of his people and family. They spoke for some time and, as they discussed his past, Lindha didn’t seem shocked at any point in his story, taking everything in stride.

  “So you see,” he explained, “I don’t know what I am to your people. I want to help them but I must know what you need from me as Trueborn.”

  Lindha said tranquilly, “Ash, whatever happens, it will be as Jana wills.”

  “But what am I supposed to do?” he demanded, feeling his anger build. “And how can I do it if I don’t know what it is? Everyone here expects something from me — including you. I’m part of your beliefs, somehow.”

  “Ash, I’m sorry, but I cannot tell you more.”

  “But what do you want?” His voice radiated a familiar growing frustration and fury.

  “I don’t know what your purpose is, Ash. No one does. It’s against my vows to tell you more.”

  It was then that Ash lost the fragile control he had over his temper. He stood up, grabbed Lindha by both upper arms and pulled her to her feet. Face to face, irritated beyond his limits, he gave her a little shake. “Damn, your vows,” he said with hard, angry eyes. “I need to know more. I must know. Tell me,” he commanded.

  She colored slightly. It took a moment before she spoke but she calmly replied, “Trueborn, I can tell you that as Prefect, I am to supply your every requirement. The Temple has credit, off-world ships, information — anything you could ask for. You only need ask. We expect nothing of you, Trueborn, I assure you. Nothing.” She was adamant. “Your purpose, what you want to do, Ash, this is for you to decide.”

  The angry fire inside died down. Ash dropped
his arms, and let Lindha go. It’s up to me, he thought. It felt as if a great weight that had been holding him down had suddenly lifted. Lindha’s words echoed in his mind. The Temple Sisters expected nothing. They had wealth and connection and would make all they had freely available to him. What he chose to do was his decision. He could leave now, return to Delian or he could find and kill Forseth. What did he want?

  He looked at Lindha and his whole body reminded him. He knew what he wanted right now. Having released her arms, he unexpectedly reached over and took her by the hands. “Forgive me,” he said. Ash found his courage. He would leap off that precipice and get an answer. And just as when he jumped into the pit with a maddened boar, now that he was finally going to ask, his fear left him. He fixed his eyes on her with burning attention. “Lindha, I want you. Could you break your pledge of chastity for me?”

  Lindha looked away from his intent gaze. “If that is your wish, yes,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “It is my duty to fill your every need.”

  Yes. She said yes. As powerful as his fury had been, it vanished like a puff of smoke in a gale force wind. An even more powerful feeling of elation replaced his anger completely. Ash gently touched her cheek. Then he held her face and neck with both hands, tilting her head up toward him. He wanted to kiss her.

  Her lips were slightly parted, her eyes heavy lidded.

  “Lindha,” Ash breathed. Their mouths came together. Lindha’s lips softened against his, her arms moved over his shoulders, her hands rose up to touch the nape of his neck. Ash pulled her close, her youthful form soft, pliant and feminine against him. Her silky hair caressed his skin.

  It felt divine.

  Ash’s lips, mouth and tongue moved against her. He knew her taste and her womanly scent. Lindha explored too, melting into his arms until they seemed to be one person. They absorbed one another through that kiss. With rising intensity, both knew the aching hollowness of longing and want. They fit together seamlessly, their skin warm, their bodies long and supple and smooth. The kiss was timeless; it seemed to go on forever yet it took no time at all. There was a world of possibilities in that kiss. Ash’s arms tightened, pulling her against him fiercely.