The Wraeththu Chronicles (33 page)

"What did you think of the show last night?" he asked me. I felt about fifteen again and prayed it did not show, mumbling my way through some embarrassing fatuousness, trying to remind myself, "You are not an idiot, you are a king, remember?"

Rue showed me a scar on his arm. "The spoils of inception," he said, "where's yours?" I rolled up my sleeve to show him, then remembered I no longer had a scar. If I did, it was in a place that could not be seen. He looked at me suspiciously.

"You don't have one." I shook my head.

"Not any more."

"Why?"

"It's a secret."

He rested his head on one hand. "You're different aren't you."

"Everybody's different."

"Not like you." He ran his fingers lightly over my arm. "You won't be here for long, will you?"

"No, not for long."

"Where are you going?"

"Immanion."

"I should have known." He took my hand and idly traced the lines on the palm. "Such destiny." He was only guessing.

Outside, the sky was pink and the air cooler. It was hot and noisy where we were sitting. The others had turned their backs on us.

"I'm going back to the inn now," I said. "Do you want to come?" My voice barely faltered. Rue just smiled and stood up.

We walked along the harbor and I could not think of anything to say. Rue threw stones into the sea; it was high tide. Ferelithia; the concubine of Wraeththu cities. Its ambience was that of lazy sensuality and its inhabitants were a reflection of that trait.

We came to a seat under a flowering orange tree. Rue sat down. I leaned on the sea wall and gazed at the horizon. For some reason, I felt nervous. Presently Rue joined me and our arms touched where they rested on the stone. "Kate told me some things about you," he said. "Did she?" I must have sounded displeased.

"Yes. I lost somebody once, I know how it is. Don't feel obliged to do anything you don't want to ...

"Kate had no right to say anything!" I grumbled irritably. Rue sighed and I looked at his profile staring at the sea. "Rue, if I seem wary, it's not because of that, it's because . . . it's been a long time."

He tilted his head to look at me and I took him in my arms. His hair smelled of musk and smoke. It felt unbelievably good to hold him, something I'd forgotten. Warmth and friendship. I frantically implored heaven thai. Vaysh would not be still in my room when we got back. Hara walked past us; their voices muted. It was a place, a time, for closeness, and I did not want our simple embrace to end. But we started to get cold and Rue slopped back first. His eyes were saying, "I know you are different and I will give you my best. I want to keep part of you here in Ferelithia."

How thoroughly I took advantage of that.

Something about the atmosphere in my room, as if it held its breath, whispered, "What shall happen here will be almost holy." As before, the windows were held open to the night and heavy scents lingered in the air. We had taken a jug of hot coffee up with us from the bar. There was no sign of Vaysh; not even the faintest chill of his presence. We sat and smoked and drank the coffee. I ended up telling Rue all about Cal, right up until before, what I now termed, the "first death." Nothing more than that. In return, Rue told me something about himself. He had come down from the north about two years ago; Ferelithia seemed to be the goal of most Wraeththu in this country. More accessible than Immanion and very affluent. Its main trades, as in the Eastern cities of legend, were cloth-making and spice-growing. To the west of the city, a metal-work quarter was beginning to thrive. Work and money appeared to be in plentiful supply; there were no beggars on the streets of Ferelithia. In response to my query concerning the relationship between humans and hara in the town, Rue explained that it had mainly been women drawn to Ferelithia. The hedonistic easygoing Ferelith had no quarrel with anyone who was not openly hostile to them and their first reluctant tolerance of humans gradually softened to acceptance. Times had been hard in the surrounding country for women, where many human settlements, divided by civil strife and suddenly deprived of the over-civilization they were accustomed to, had regressed in temperament and life-style to something like out of the Dark Ages. What equality females had once enjoyed had been taken from them by brute force. I could sympathize deeply with those who resented the reversal of function to mere baby-machines and male pleasure-fodder. It was not surprising many had preferred to take their chances with the Wraeththu. Not that the women I'd seen in Ferelithia were soft or frightened creatures, far from it.

Rue confessed he did not like to work, not in the laboring sense, but as he was blessed

with a good voice made an adequate living out of singing for the band. I asked about the

name, where did it come from?

"It's an allegory," Rue explained mysteriously. "It means many things; choose your own

meaning."

I like to think he guessed more about me than I told him. He knew I would go to Immanion as more than just a visitor. Half of me wanted to tell him everything, but I thought it would be unwise. Rue looked wistful when I skirted his questions. He wanted me to trust him, which I did, even on such short acquaintance, but trust was not enough.

The time came when our conversation came to an end. In the comfortable silence, Rue looked at me. We were sitting at the table.

"I was lucky to meet you," he said and stood up, lifting the white vest over his head.

I told him he was beautiful and he held out his arms for me. We were about the same height. Sharing breath had never been so easy on the neck. I think it frightened him, what he tasted within me, for he tried to pull away at first, but I would not let him. It was too pleasant for me, soaking in his warmth, his misty, sighing waves. He tasted lazy and I wanted us to meld; see him from the inside out. When he broke away from me, he kept saying my name, half in fear, half in desire. When we had scrambled out of our clothes, I said to him, "This body is virgin for you." He smiled, thinking I was a romantic fool, but it was the truth. He was soume for me; selfless compliance, and it was like coming to drink at a cool, dark pool after endless torment in a searing desert. I wanted to experience every second to the full; my body had truly come alive again. I thought, "After this, I will never be able to look at Vaysh seriously again." Perhaps he had known that; known that by experiencing something he never could, I would disregard the hold he had over me. His words could wound me no longer.

At some point, I realized my purpose, the purpose, for what had happened here in Ferelithia, and it did not matter that it was probably. Thiede's design. Rue tensed against me. He could tell something was happening but he didn't know what. "Pell!" he said, "Pell! What . . .?"

I put my hand on his face. "Hush," I said, "relax." I hope I did not cause him pain. Mostly, I think, he just found it strange, discovering parts of himself invaded that he did not know he had. I broke through the seal and his face flinched for a moment, but after that... Reality disappeared. With that unity we could have exploded the world. A microcosm flared in Rue's body, and I was the god that moved it.

Journey's end and the shining city

1 often ask myself what made me, what exactly made me, run away so quickly. I like to think I had noble reasons, but if I had, I can't remember them. It was just an instinctive reaction. I did not want this complication; I shunned commitment of this nature. There were greater things waiting for me, after all. I said to myself, "It is Thiede's design that I should leave." I have no doubt that he deserved the blame for many things that happened to me, and would happen to me, but not everything. Thiede had become my personal (and often convenient) incarnation of Fate. All events were accountable to him. I could behave as I wished and declaim, "Oh, but it was not me; it was him!" and point the righteous, accusing finger. I can still do that now, if I wish. People will always believe me, liking as they do to believe the worst of Thiede. That is his fault. He has never exactly struggled to make himself either popular or trusted.

That morning, I woke to look at Rue's hair spread out over the white pillows; tangled and still damp at his neck, and knew instantly that I wanted to leave Ferelithia that morning; now, away from Rue. It was not, us Vaysh had predicted, because of regret; I regretted nothing. I just felt that I had fulfilled a particular path of my destiny and that was an end to it. Rue did not wake as I dressed, nor as I furtively emptied drawers of my belongings. We had had little sleep. Vaysh had left our bags under the bed. I hastily shoved all my things into them and pushed them back out of sight. I hardly dared look at Rue; I was afraid to wake him because I did not trust myself. I could not ignore the hundred screaming harpies in my head crying, "Flee!" but Rue had surrendered himself to me for that one night of bliss; he had made me happy. I don't think he knew what I had done to him. Afterwards, he had only laughed and praised my prowess, although his eyes had been shadowed with vague doubt. He would think more about that today. As I stood there, looking down on his wild beauty, I said to myself, "Rue, I will not forget you." That would be no compensation, I know, but it was the simple truth. I could so easily have reached for him again, but something stayed my hand. It was not meant to be. Perhaps he would come to hate me, or perhaps he would be glad and remember me with warmth. He did not know yet, but the fruits of our passion would linger here in Ferelithia long after I had gone. Rue had got what he wanted, but in a way he could not have imagined. He hosted the pearl that would become my son.

Vaysh was still asleep and took some time to respond to my knocking. He gave me a sleepy, contemptuous stare from around the half-open door.

"Get dressed, Vaysh, and get the horses ready to leave!" I ordered, and did not wait to watch his surprise.

Downstairs, the landlord was just preparing breakfast. None of the other guests had yet come down. I ordered coffee and bread rolls and asked for paper and a pen. Sitting by the window, looking out into the morning mist of a new day, I wrote:

Dear Kate,

I have no doubt that you will come here asking questions or looking for me. Do not be angry

that I did not wait to say goodbye, or condemn me for running out on Rue. It may puzzle you that I have said that, but in time you'll understand what I mean. I know that you've probably got plans for the future which may involve leaving Ferelithia, but I would like, if you can, for you to stay here for a few months and keep an eye on Rue. I know I've got a nerve asking you, but you remember once I said that you seemed to know more about Wraeththu than me? Well, this is something you won't have seen before and that's why I think you won't mind staying. Last night, Rue and I conceived new life. I'm afraid he doesn't know yet, and it's up to you when and if you want to tell him. I can't. I have to leave; I have no time. Finally, I want you to know that you'll always be welcome in my future home. Come to Immanion, Kate, and tell me how things went here after I'm gone. I shall leave money for you with the innkeeper, whom I hope can be trusted. I know all this sounds very high-handed and mysterious, but when we meet again, I shall explain. I believe you shall be able to find me in Immanion quite easily.

Your friend Pellaz.

I wrote it out about three times before I was satisfied. Sentiment or something like it made me keep the other copies. One of them is reproduced above. Whatever else I wrote for her I've forgotten.

Vaysh and I rode along the coast road away from Ferelithia. Yellow beaches alive with shrieking sea-birds led down to the sea on our right. To the left, grassy dunes hid the fields that lay beyond them. Would Immanion be as beautiful or as welcoming as this place we were leaving? My heart was heavy but I had learned long before not to look back and did not turn in my saddle for one last look at the sleepy, white town whose mantle of flowers blew a haunting fragrance to us on the morning breeze. Immanion was three hundred miles or so south-east of Ferelithia; a shorter jaunt than the one we had undertaken from Samway. Vaysh was impatient to cross over to the other-lanes. He was eager to conclude our journey, but I still wanted time to mull over recent events and could only do that on solid ground. He reluctantly agreed to give me half an hour's respite and rode on ahead of me to sulk. I felt as if I was already out of this world; euphoric, yet at the same time a little sad. Soon my journey would end. On the other side of our next other-lane dash, Immanion lay waiting, waiting for me. So long ago, an ignorant peasant boy (who thought an awful lot of himself), had set out upon an adventure into an unknown world. So much had happened since then. That boy was dead. I thought of the time when I had lain beside my brother agonising over that first fateful move toward a beautiful stranger whom I had thought of as just a man caught up in a glamorous, perhaps impermanent, craze. What would I be doing now if I had not braved reaching out to him? My life would have been ordered for a time, I'm sure of that, but eventually Wraeththu would have had to touch it. Perhaps a different face of Wraeththu to the one I had been incepted to. I had been offered the best. Some suffering had come my way, but the good things outweighed it.

Riding along that road, with the tang of the sea in my nostrils and the claws of the wind in my hair, my heart rejoiced. I thanked God for everything; for Saltrock, for Cal, for Rue. I would not have lived my life any other way. Perhaps we were not as different from Mankind as we liked to think we were. Many Wraeththu would travel the same path of selfishness and greed. Within myself, I could recognize vestiges of those inherent traits. It will always be a struggle to combat these things, but it is enough just for some of us to recognize that battle. I had work to do, for my race and for the world, and I was now prepared to take on that responsibility. Ah, is that a cynical eyebrow I see raised? You must think that I had just run away from responsibility, but as an excuse, and excuse it is, I can only say that 1 had no time to linger. Rue had been the right person, only the place had been inopportune. I followed the current of my destiny. It would lead to a vast ocean of infinite possibilities.