To the High Redoubt (28 page)

She reached over and found his hand. “Arkady-immai, try to understand: my blindness shames me.”

“Yes, I know that,” he said. “I wish I knew a way to convince you that you have no reason to feel that way.”

Her smile was slight and sad. “And I wish I could convince
you
that you have no reason to be shamed by what you and I do when we are joined. You have no reason to be shamed, but you are.”

Arkady nodded slowly. “Right.”

She lifted his hand and kissed it. “If the ghosts do not bother you, we can go spying tonight, if you are not too tired.”

He patted her hand, holding it between both of his. “If I fall asleep, then I'm too tired. If I don't, then I'm not.”

This time Surata was able to laugh more openly. “Let's wait, then. Once we've eaten, we'll decide.”

“At least we don't have to stay awake until everyone else in the inn is asleep.” He got to his feet, releasing her hand reluctantly. “There's work to do.”

She made a sign of agreement, then said, “The ghosts will help, Arkady-immai, whether you believe they are there or not. They'll confuse the Bundhi, and we need that. But don't be alarmed by them. Truly, they can't hurt you.”

Arkady indicated that he had heard, then did his best to put the whole thing out of his mind. All that he considered was that once again they would be lovers, and that no matter how sinful and damnable their actions, they would be joined in delicious frenzy before the night was gone.

“I think they were mad,” Surata said some time later as they rolled into their blankets.

“Who?” Arkady asked, not paying too much attention.

“The ghosts. They feel as if they were. It's more than the terrible way they died, it's a feel of…madness.” She slid close to him.

“Surata, don't joke about such things,” he warned her, more worried than he cared to admit. “If…if there are ghosts here, then they are sent to bedevil us, and it would take a priest to exorcise them.” He crossed himself, just in case.

“I'm not joking, Arkady-champion,” she said, her lips against his shoulder. “It is a good thing for us that they are there and that they are what they are.” With the tip of her tongue she found her way along his collarbone and up his neck, over his beard to his mouth. “I have wanted this.”

“Oh, yes,” he groaned as he wrapped her in his arms, holding her as if he could absorb her through his skin. There was a distant echo of condemnation in his thoughts, the voice of a priest far away thundering about the evils of the flesh, but Arkady shut the priest away, delving into the mystery that was Surata, exploring her with his body and his senses.

Surata licked his Sixty-Four Petaled Center, murmuring, “You are not as afraid as you once were, Arkady-champion.”

It was an effort to speak, so he gave a laugh low in his throat instead. He shivered as she kissed him, then reached for her, impatient for her. His desire—more intense than any lust he had felt—coursed through him, relentless as a river in flood. He wanted to touch, to taste, to
know
her as if they lived in the same body.

“This is good,” Surata whispered as his hands slipped between her legs. Her back arched as he moved over her, and she opened to him as he went deeply into her, sighing her name
so that the echos of “Surata” made the colors around him change, becoming more luminous and brilliant from his love
.

“We will have to take care,” his chain mail reminded him. “The Bundhi has been waiting for us to try something. It must be that he anticipates some action from us.”

“Then we must be more prepared,” Arkady observed quietly
.

Surata did not speak for a moment. “Do you want to try to reach his redoubt again?”

“Not if I have to go through more chasms,” Arkady answered, faintly amused. “It might be entertaining for a sorcerer, but for a soldier, it is simply hard work.”

His chain mail jingled in a feeling that was part sympathy, part laughter. “Arkady my champion, you are proud of your ability to endure these things. You would be disappointed if you were given a clear path and an easy assault.”

He did not reply to that accusation at once, but finally he smiled. “True.”

“And the redoubt? What do you want to do?” Surata persisted. “We can go there directly, we can approach it many different ways, but how you wish to go is up to you.”

“If the Bundhi can sense when we approach, then there must be some way that he would not notice, or would not anticipate,” Arkady said, thinking aloud
.

“But what, Arkady my champion?” she asked patiently
.

He thought a bit longer, then chuckled. “It's too bad we can't fly. A man in such a fortress is watching the ground, not the sky. And small wonder,” he added in a more critical tone
.

“Why can't we fly?” Surata said. “Do you think it isn't possible?”

“I haven't got wings,” he reminded her, holding his arms to the side
.

“But I can become wings for you. I can be any weapon you need, and if that means wings, so be it.” The chain mail slithered and slid over him, gathering at his back and clumping there. It chimed softly, then changed, stretching out, expanding, until two huge expanses of silver feathers framed him and towered over him. “It will take this much to lift you, if you wish to remain as you are.”

He was caught up in the wonder of this transformation and so took a little time before he said, “I wish I could do the things that you can do. To be able to alter so much…”

“It takes many years of study, Arkady my champion. As much as I would wish it, I cannot learn to be a fighter in a week or a year. To have your skill, I would have had to begin as a child, as you did.” Her voice in the wings was breathless, softer than the clarion chain mail
.

“I suppose you have the….” He shrugged and felt the wings ride on his shoulders with the movement. “How far is it to this redoubt?”

“How far is anything in this other place?” she asked. “It is where it is. We will fly there and find it as quickly as we can. The more closely joined we are, the faster we will go.”

She had never before made reference to the duality of their existence when they were in this other place, and it took him aback to hear her mention it now. “Surata, what we are doing…”

“We are united, Arkady my champion. Our Subtle Bodies are linked as our flesh is linked. We are still in the daily world, and our fulfillment in each other is the riding of the wave that brings us here.” The huge wings expanded and cupped the air, beating slowly at first and then faster. “As long as we are united, then this, the Divine Child of the Jiva, can be freed in this other place. The way we are here is the offspring of how we are in the daily world. If we should end our lovemaking, or if there should be discord between us in our joined bodies, then we could not be able to function in this other place. That is why the Bundhi wishes to disrupt us and cause…frictions between us that will interrupt our joining.” They were into the air now, soaring through a sky that was as many-hued as a rainbow
.

The wings were silent, beating steadily, carrying him with a sureness that heartened him. Below them there were shapes in the bright patterns that might be land, but it was impossible to tell with any certainty, for this other place was so malleable that nothing here was immutable
.

“There's something up ahead,” Arkady said after a passage of time—whether it was long or short, he had no way of knowing. “Do you think it's the redoubt?”

“It may be,” Surata whispered in the rush of the wings
.

“It looks like the fortress we saw before,” he said, not quite as certain as he had been
.

“Yes, but that means little here.” The wings spread, holding him in a slow, steady turn over the steep-rising mountains below. “This may be a sham, a false image established to turn our attention away from the real stronghold.”

“Then how can we ever know if we are actually battling the Bundhi and are not simply wasting our strength on illusions?” he asked, feeling the cold touch of despair within him
.

“We will know,” she said grimly. “Do not give way, Arkady my champion, or…”

(“Surata,” he breathed, her hair moist against his brow. “I don't think…God, I can't hold back…” Her mouth was warm and open under his.

(“Slowly,” she murmured when she could speak at all. “Go very slowly, Arkady-champion. Slowly.” She moved so that he could penetrate her more fully and moaned with the pleasure of him.)

“Surata!” He felt dizzy, disoriented in the shifting lights
.

The wings flapped listlessly, then opened, holding him in a steady coasting while he strove to regain his equilibrium once more. He was giddy with fear and exhilaration, and was not certain which was greater. The mountains beneath them wavered, shrank and rose again, as the space around them turned blue and clear at last
.

“Hold on, Arkady my champion,” Surata called in the beating of his wings. “Hold on.”

He could not answer but did not have to. He all but willed himself to ascend, rushing higher than he would have dared to go before
.

Far below them, the redoubt of bamboo staves loomed over the crags. It was livid as a bruise and filled with menace
.

“What do you think? Is it the Bundhi?” Arkady asked as they swung over the peaks
.

“It may be,” she said again. “I hope it is.”

“Why hope?” he said
.

“Because it would mean he does not know we have come so close once more. If the Bundhi knew we were near, he would seek to show us illusions and other distortions. This may be just that, and a very persuasive one, but I doubt it.” She carried them in a long arc that brought them directly over the redoubt. “It does not look as if it is an illusion, unless the Bundhi is aware that he must attend to his citadel from above as well as below.”

“You don't believe it, do you?” he asked. “You're afraid that he does know we're here and is seeking to divert us from our goal.” He could feel her lack of conviction in the movement of his wings, but how it could be, he had no idea
.

“Yes,” she said finally, and they dropped a little in the air. “Yes, I am afraid that the Bundhi has anticipated us and has already made up this ruse to…”

When she did not finish, Arkady said for her, “To keep us from his real stronghold. That is what worries you the most, isn't it?”

“It is.” The wings beat steadily, but there was no more from her but the force of their flying
.

“And if this is the redoubt, what then?” he asked her when they had circled the fortress for the third time
.

“Then we must find a way to destroy it, and to end the protection it gives the Bundhi, both here in this other place and in the daily world.” She sounded hopelessly determined and it touched his heart to hear her
.

“Surata, don't. You have courage and dedication and—”

“You had those things and you were cast out of your own ranks for them,” she reminded him
.

“Listen to yourself,” he said when he could think of no reasonable argument. “You warned me that the Bundhi could sap your strength with doubt, and you are the one who is questioning everything here. I have no way of knowing what is and is not right in this other place; you do. If you can't be certain of what is here, how can I?” He was not angry, and there was nothing in his voice but his concern. “Surata?”

She did not answer him, but his wings carried him more quickly, and that gave him hope
.

(He felt his release start to build, from the base of his spine to his throat; his body strained against its demand.)

The redoubt shuddered, the bamboo staves quivering as if they could sense the two far overhead. A soundless wail drifted up to them, as eerie and frightening as the cry of wolves in a winter's night
.

“They sense us,” Surata cautioned
.

“This is the Bundhi's redoubt, then?” Arkady asked, feeling terribly vulnerable
.

“Yes. And they will be hunting us if—” She had no chance to complete her warning; he trembled in the embrace of the wings
.

“Su
rata,” he cried as his body succumbed to its need, and she pressed tightly to him, shaking and laughing with him as the air around them snapped and quivered with the turmoil of the disturbed, unhappy ghosts.

Chapter 15

For the next three days, they went even faster, driving their animals and themselves to the limits of their strengths. Only when the larger mule went lame did they stop their flight, knowing that to do anything else was folly.

“We could abandon the mule,” Arkady suggested without enthusiasm.

“And half our supplies,” Surata added. “It wouldn't matter. The Bundhi's agents would find it, and they would know too much.”

“It takes more than the threat of a spy to frighten me.” His bravado fooled neither of them. “Besides, with your insistence on baths every other day, and making me darken my hair and beard, who would know me?”

“The Bundhi follows other trails,” she sighed. “Arkady-immai, I know you want to cheer me; I wish I could be cheered.”

Arkady patted the rump of the lame mule. “All right: I admit I'm worried. But I won't be dispirited. That's doing the Bundhi's work for him.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “We're not far from a village. it won't take us long to walk there, and they must have a farrier and a smithy. I can get another shoe for the mule and see if he can go on.”