The Wraeththu Chronicles (119 page)

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Authors: Storm Constantine,Paul Cashman

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: The Wraeththu Chronicles
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He ignored this. "You don't have to go back to Cora's house tonight."

 

"I don't have to do anything, do I!" I replied awkwardly. He left it at that. The meal was excellent, the company sparkling. Across the table, Panthera watched me blandly, constantly. The robe he wore left his shoulders bare, where he made the bones glide and slide beneath his pale skin Sultry in the lamplight he was, lovely as a white lily wreathed in vines. The most beautiful thing in the room, and so unattainable. The Hafeners flattered him. Only Jubilee had the sense to realize his barriers were

 

unassailable, which was presumably why he decided to have a go at me. Hara in these rural communities must get so bored being cut off nearly all winter We left the house late, singing in the snow as we tramped back to Cora's Panthera walked beside me.

 

"Well," he said, "now we have fine new horses to ride back to Jael on What did you get?"

 

I was surprised. "Nothing," I said. "Who gave you the horses?" "Gasteau," he replied with a charmingly wicked grin. "You think I'm such a prig, don't you. I think I should be insulted that you're shocked." "I'm not shocked. What did you have to do to get them?" "Don't be coarse, Calanthe! All I had to do was smile." He laughed, "You do things the wrong way, obviously."

 

"And left Jubilee Hafener's side empty-handed. Clearly you are right my pantherine!"

 

On the last night in Lemarath, I stood in my bedroom window and stared into the snow, in the direction of Heartstone.

 

Kruin came into the room. He said, "Oh, for God's sake, why don't yon go over, Cal? We're leaving tomorrow. More days of comfortless travel! Why don't you go?"

 

We had discussed the Hafener heir's interest in me. I had a bottle of strong wine on the table. That was enough. "What's the point, Kruin?" I asked. "Why settle for something less than I want?"

 

"I don't know what you mean," he said angrily.

 

He didn't. I couldn't really explain myself. I sat at the table and drank the wine. Tomorrow we leave. Another long, dull, painfully cold journey. Panthera came and put his head around my door.

 

"Can you possibly remain sober tonight?" he requested wearily. "We want to make an early start tomorrow."

 

"Panthera," I said, "don't judge me!"

 

He twisted his mouth a little and raised one eyebrow. "I don't judge you, Cal. How can I? I don't know anything about you. You wanted your privacy. Do you want me to beg for confidences?"

 

I could not answer. This conversation was not going in the direction I'd intended. "Wait until we get to Jael," Panthera said, in a softer tone.

 

I looked up at him then, unsure of what I wanted to see in his face. 'Why?" I asked sharply.

 

He leaned against the door and folded his arms. He smiled, and the room lit up. "It is a safe place," he said. "You will be able to rest properly."

 

I laughed grimly and reached for the wine bottle.

 

"You've changed so much," Panthera observed pensively. "Do you have to do this to yourself, Cal? I get the feeling you're falling apart inside. Whatever's bothering you, don't let it beat you like this."

 

"You have such clear sight, my pantherine," I said.

 

He shook his head. "Alright, I know what you're thinking. I'm much younger than you; I know that, but I'm not completely ignorant. You are in trouble, obviously, and I can see that you are making things worse for yourself. Don't say anything, Cal; I know I'm right." He turned away, began to close the door behind him. "Please think about what I've said," he told me.

 

I stared at the door after he'd gone. Panthera can be such a pompous little beast at times.

CHAPTER
 
THIRTEEN

 

The House of Jael

 

". . . (the) richly glowing

Gold of frames and opulent wells of mingling

Dim colors gathered in darkened mirrors"

—Martin Armstrong, In Lamplight

 

 

We left Lemarath early in the morning, as Panthera had desired. We had three new horses from the Tirtha, plus a mule for carriage, which would speed things up a little. Cora and her family bid us farewell, exacting promises from us that one day, in the summer, we would return. I would really like to. My promise at least, was heartfelt. New furs, new supplies, new horses. We began at a fast pace, our animals clad in fleeces because the Gimrah keep their best stock shorn of winter coats. We traveled across the country much quicker than we'd expected. The roads were not as bad as we'd feared. Each settlement we visited was hospitable and friendly, but none as welcoming as Lemarath. Every estemble has a governing harish family, although several families may be under their control. Every estemble has a Tirtha, who in turn is just one delegate of the Gimrah council of estembles. This council meets six times a year to discuss the problems andpolicies of the tribe as a whole, and to show off their prize stock, of course, In fact, these meetings are generally nothing other than glorified horse-fairs.

 

Now we are in Ferike, although the country has been changing for quite some time; more hilly, more forests. I've not written anything down for a long time, mainly because I haven't felt the need to quite so much. My sleep has been mercifully free of dreams. Perhaps I am being allowed to "recover." Maybe they knew they were driving me too far. I do feel slightly better; less harried. Looking back over all that has happened recently, I find myself wondering if Zack is really still alive. Of course, I had once thought Pell was dead, and I'd seen him die with my own eyes, so anything in this world is possible. I should be prepared for anything.

 

At the moment, we are staying at an inn in the town of Clereness, which is about twenty miles north west of Jael. Tomorrow, there is no foreseeable reason why Panthera will not see his home once more. Kruin, in his head, has already started spending his reward money. His plans are becoming rather tiresome. Me, I have no idea what I'm going to do with the money. Perhaps I could return to Lemarath. Ah, thereby hangs the tail. I have asked myself a hundred times; why didn't I? It would not have been beyond me to wheedle myself into Jubilee Hafener's affections to the extent that he would have taken me as his consort. I'm an old hand at that sort of thing, as Terzian's family will be able to tell you. Why didn't I? It would have effectively ruined whatever plans the Gelaming have in mind, wouldn't it! I don't know what I want; I can't even think about it properly. Places to go, to run to, to hide in; just excuses really. If I don't go to Lemarath, I could go back to Megalithica perhaps. Forever's the nearest I've ever had to a home, after all. But then, Terzian's son is now the consort of Seel Griselming, and Seel, I know, would prefer never to set eyes on me again. He has seen me kill. This is sad, because Forever is very close to my heart.

 

Sitting here now, I am thinking, if it is winter in Galhea now all the long gardens of the house will be covered in snow, the lake frozen, the summer-house dark within because of snow on the windows. I can see Cobweb, walking through the white gardens, wearing a long, flowing coat, his hair loose around him like smoke. There will be dogs bounding in front of him, probably harlings behind . . . harlings. Yes. Have I forgotten that so completely? I feel uncomfortable thinking about it, because I know it is just another example of my skill at betrayal. Forever holds more than just the

 

secrets of my past. It holds a secret that flowered within myself; not thought, but flesh. My son. Terzian's son. His name is Tyson, and he would have become an adult a long, long time ago. I did not abandon him because I did not care (which I still do when I remember to), but because of what I am. I do not want my badness to taint him more than is necessary. One day, perhaps. . . . Oh, useless sentiment, but I would like to go back there. If I thought that Seel could find it within his heart to forget all that has happened, I would go tomorrow. Terzian went back there too, at the end. Oh God, I must get off this downward, melancholy spiral! Panthera is right: I must start fighting. If I concentrate hard enough, I can draw my scattered strength back into myself. The past is done. I spend too much time wallowing about in it. I have a future, even if it is destined only to be a short one.

 

I must seek my destiny. What pompous crap! I sound like Pell. It seems more than likely I shall spend my reward money seeking the answer to thosc riddles that have been set me. Trying to see beneath the mountains of Jaddayoth.

 

Ferike is an exhausting place; so many steep hills. Your neck is forever craned backwards, trying to see over trees. There are long avenues of pines, where the roads are in darkness, for no sunlight could ever reach them. There are many tiny villages, many abandoned, larger towns, almost unrecognizable under their winter, white blankets. Wild dogs haunt the ruins of Mankind's dwellings, but they are cowardly and would never attack unless

 

they came upon someone alone and unawares. Some of the villages are built deep into the rock face. Clereness itself stands on the edge of a vast, still lake. Across it, rising directly from the water, are gaunt, gray cliffs, which Panthera tells me are named Fortress Shield. Birds have built their nests there. In the morning, I can throw open the window and see them swooping down, to glide above the surface of the lake. I don't want to be unhappy here, for, even in the depth of the season, I can smell the promise of spring. The Ferike are a contained people, quite unlike the gregarious folk of Hadassah and Gimrah, but they are not uncivil. This is a land of peace and healing. There is quiet here. I am no longer afraid of visitations, hallucinations and nightmares. A respite; probably brief, but I must enjoy it while it lasts.

 

Last night, I sat in Panthera's room, here at the inn, and watched him comb out his hair. We were feeling tranquil and relaxed. Panthera laughed and said that Kruin's hair was still full of the moss and leaves of Natawni; he would never get a brush through it. "But then, I suppose you know that," he added in rather a sharp tone.

 

"Thea, you were not excluded at any time; you know that."

 

He put his comb down quickly on the table, staring at his hands. "Cal, do you really think I can bear to let anyone touch me now?" I gave a non-committal shrug. "In Jasminia, I paid the huyana to let me off the penance," he continued. His face was flushed. He was ashamed of admitting that, even to me, whom he looked upon as a friend.

 

"In time, you might come to feel. . . differently," I said, which I knew was not much help.

 

"No feybraiha garlands for me," Panthera said wistfully, looking at himself in the mirror, as if trying to see the virgin thing he had once been. "No, you are not the only one with problems, Cal."

 

I sat on his bed, knowing that once I would have tried desperately hard to seduce him; I would have relished this ideal opportunity. Perhaps he was hoping I would. But I could only watch him and remember that. Panthera gave himself a shake, sniffed, and picked up the brush once more, raking his hair vigorously. He looked at me in the mirror."You are tired, Cal," he said. "You are always tired. It shows. Once we get to Jael, you must rest properly. Stay with us until the spring."

 

I smiled at him, unwilling to commit myself. I didn't want to appear ungrateful, but I was nervous of the Jaels being unwittingly drawn into something they might not want. I

 

was not so stupid as to believe it was all over; this was just a lull, a freeze, like the season. Come spring, I felt sure the whips would be out, attempting to drive me in the direction of Imnianion once more.

 

As if reading my mind, Panthera said, "Are they watching you now?"

 

The evening light was red when we started upon the upward road that led to Jael; a road that hugs the side of a tree-covered hill. Jael is at the top. It is a beautiful place, and very old. Panthera started to get nervous as soon as we could see the turrets of the castle above the trees.

 

"Cal, shall I have to tell them everything?" he asked me, and his voice was very young. The child who had grown up here was not far away, I thought.

 

"What do you think their reaction will be?"

 

He shrugged. "I'm not... I'm not sure." He did not want to put his fears into words, those fears that this parents would be ashamed of him, angry, would wish him dead rather than an ex-kanene.

 

Kruin had to say his piece. "They will naturally be surprised and pleased to have you home again," he said. "I should save any explicit details until you are settled."

 

"I'm not sure I'll be able to hide it," Panthera said dismally. "I feel as if it's written all over me." "It's not," I said.

 

The castle has a thick outer wall, with a drawbridge over a dry moat. Panthera said that the bridge is never raised. We rode over it and Panthera pulled the bell-chain attached to the huge, wooden gates. I could almost smell his fear. After only a moment, the gates were opened and a servant came out to ask our business.

 

"Tell the Castlethane that his son is here," Panthera said with a shade of the old, familiar arrogance.

 

The servant looked at us all suspiciously and then told us to wait. Panthera explained that this was a har he'd never seen before, obviously someone employed since his disappearance. "Time waits for no-one," he said. "I wonder how many other new faces there'll be inside?" His hands were shaking, his face white.

 

I reached out to touch his arm, but then we could hear a great commotion beyond the gates. Panthera's father had obviously lost no time in answering this summons. Dogs came barking under the stone arch and the gates were thrown wide. We all looked within, at the tall har striding toward us, several yards in front of those that followed him. We all looked into the face of a har who dared not believe that his wildest hope had become truth.

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