No Other Love (17 page)

“Yes,” she gasped, lifting her hips to offer
herself to him. “Please, touch me there.”

He moved forward, pushing into her, and she
lifted herself again, pushing back as hard as she could, searching
for what she so desired. Unexpected joy welled up in her as she
felt him begin to stretch her body. Half delirious though she was,
she could discern in his face the pleasure her eager response was
giving him. It was his openly expressed delight, and the joy that
continued to soar and flame in her, that gave her the courage to
endure a long, rending pain when Herne continued to push himself
into her with a slow and steady determination. She screamed, biting
his shoulder in a confused frenzy of longing and discomfort. It was
against all her training to accept this kind of pain, but she had
no desire to avoid it. Then the pain was gone and Herne was
completely inside her, on her, crushing her with his weight and she
was dissolving into him. He was making her part of himself and she
knew in her deepest heart that she would never be separate from him
again. She trusted him, so she let him do whatever he wanted to
her, while she gave herself to him freely, reacting with feverish
intensity to his every hard thrust, crying out with ever-increasing
need, over and over again, until at last she found her trust
rewarded with pleasure so vibrant and shattering that she thought
she would die of it.

* * * * *

The long, intense tremors that had shaken her
body were stilled at last. Her face was wet with tears, though she
could not recall having shed them. Herne lay sprawled over her, one
arm across her breasts.

“All my life I’ve been angry,” he murmured,
his warm breath against her shoulder, stirring her curling hair.
“I’ve always been ready for a quarrel with words or a physical
battle on the slightest provocation. Sometimes I have fought with
no provocation at all, just to relieve the rage piled up inside me.
But from the moment I took you into my arms, my anger was gone. For
the first time I’m at peace. It feels wonderful.”

“What have we done?” Merin’s voice quavered
and broke. She swallowed a sob before trying again. “Herne, what
was it that just happened between us?”

“It’s called love.” He sounded amused. He
moved his arm to hug her more closely. When he spoke again his
voice held an awed solemnity. “It’s true; it was love we were
making. That’s why I’m not angry any more. It’s because of you, and
the love you gave me. Merin, my dearest, sweetest love.” He lifted
himself to bend over her. She knew he intended to kiss her.

“No, I cannot. It’s not allowed.” When she
pushed against his chest he moved aside so she could sit up. She
could tell he was puzzled by her behavior, but not frightened, as
he should have been. But then, she should not have expected him to
be frightened. He did not understand, he did not know the laws of
Oressia. She did. She got off the bed and ran into the bathing
room. The place between her legs, where he had pushed so hard and
hurt her, ached now when she moved. She looked down and saw a smear
of red on her inner thigh. She sank to her knees beside the bench,
groping for her coif.

“Merin, what’s wrong?” Herne was there,
kneeling beside her, his beautiful naked body now an affront to her
eyes. She was so frightened that when he pulled her against his
chest she cried out in abject terror. Despite her panic-stricken
struggles, he would not let her go. He held her close until she
gained some control over her emotions.

“My dearest, I know I hurt you,” he told her.
“But I know you enjoyed it, too, and I promise it won’t hurt the
next time, nor ever again. From now on, it will just get
better.”

“What am I to do?” she cried, seeming not to
hear his attempt to comfort her. “There is no Tribunal of Elders
here, so how can I be punished? And you, Herne, how can I save
you?”

“If it’s impossible for you to be punished
for what we’ve done, I don’t think I have much to worry about.”
Herne didn’t know whether to be amused or concerned by her fears.
Never having made love to a virgin before, he was not certain if
her distress was only the natural result of the major change that
had just occurred in her life, or if she actually did think she
ought to be punished. When she pulled away from him, he let her go,
until she picked up her coif and shook it out. Moving swiftly, he
tore the cloth out of her fingers and tossed it aside. “Don’t cover
your hair. It’s too beautiful to hide. Now, what is this about
punishment? Come on, Merin, don’t hide your face from me, either.
After what we’ve just enjoyed together, I deserve an
explanation.”

“I am forbidden to tell you. Herne, please,
please, don’t try to make me reveal what I must not. You have taken
– no, I will be honest about this.
I have given
you
something I should not give to anyone, given it willingly and
joyfully. What we have done together, I will do again if you ask
me. Having begun as we did, I know I could not refuse you. But I
implore you, do not pry into Oressian affairs. If you do, it will
destroy what is between us. Let me bear the burden of blame. It is
my responsibility.”

“All right,” he said, wanting to reassure
her. “For the moment, because we are in strange and unusual
circumstances, I will ask no more questions. But I make no promises
for the future. There will come a time when I will want some honest
answers.”

Tula was a plump little man with an honest,
open face, a shaved head, and twinkling blue eyes. He wore a long
blue robe similar to Dulan’s, with the hood thrown back.

“The news of your arrival has spread through
all of Tathan,” Tula said when Dulan introduced Herne and Merin to
him. “No doubt by now even the quarry workers have heard the tale.
Everyone is asking the questions I now put to you. Where is your
home? How did you come here? I need not inquire if you mean us
harm, for I can sense that you are merely confused and curious, as
well as a bit frightened.”

“Tula’s special talent is the ability to
perceive the emotions of others without the deliberate use of his
telepathic powers,” Dulan explained.

“We have been friends since we were young.”
Tula placed a hand on Dulan’s shoulder. “It often happens that
telepaths just leaving babyhood form a close and unbreakable bond.
They need not be of the same gender, and it matters not at all whom
they marry, for nothing can destroy their telepathic
closeness.”

“It was Tula who cared for me after I was
released from a Jurisdiction prison,” Dulan added quietly,
indicating that they should all be seated in the chairs arranged by
the fireplace. “For that kindness, I owe him my life. I believe he
can be trusted with any secret.”

“So do I,” said Merin. She remained a little
unsure about Dulan’s character, because of the hood covering the
mystery of a scarred and disfigured face and her uncertainty as to
whether Dulan was man or woman, but she had liked Tula on sight.
She believed there was no guile in the man and no violence, either.
She thought Herne was still undecided about either telepath. She
noticed him regarding Tula with hard, disbelieving eyes.

“You are doubtful,” said Tula to Herne. “Will
you tell me what troubles you?”

“I’m still not certain that you and Dulan, or
any of Tathan for that matter, really exist,” Herne responded.

“Do you believe we may be an elaborate
illusion?” Tula asked. “What an interesting concept. Have you any
idea how much telepathic power would be necessary to create and
maintain such a complicated image? Dulan and I would have no energy
left to use while conversing with you.”

“You would if you were part of the illusion,”
Herne stated. “Or if you had planted the fantasy in our minds
instead of using a physical construction.”

“An even more delightful idea.” Tula laughed.
“I wish it were possible. Like so many in the Jurisdiction, you
seem to have an exaggerated notion of the capabilities of
telepaths. I doubt if even Saray allied with the entity Ananka
could do what you suggest.”

“What about Ananka alone?” Herne asked.
“Could she do it?”

“I do not know,” said Tula, meeting Herne’s
gaze with obvious honesty. Herne held that gaze for a while.

“All right,” Herne said, making up his mind
to trust Tula. “Until something happens to convince me otherwise, I
will accept your claim that Tathan and everyone in it are real. I
would like to meet this Saray.”

“Dulan, I think we ought to arrange it.” Tula
turned toward his friend. “Perhaps, tomorrow morning? She will not
refuse a request from her old teacher.”

“If, as I suspect, she is responsible for the
presence of Merin and Herne in Tathan, she will not dare to
refuse,” Dulan agreed.

“You think this is another of her
experiments?” Tula shook his head. “Oh, dear, this matter of Saray
and Ananka grows more difficult by the day. Merin, Herne, I must
insist that you answer my original questions.”

“Tell him how we came to be here, Herne,”
urged Merin, “or I will.”

Faced with that choice, Herne gave Tula the
same story he had earlier told Dulan, letting them believe that he
and Merin had been the only explorers to visit the ruins of Tathan,
and that the
Kalina
was a small ship.

“I sense concealment,” Tula said, “which you
believe is for our benefit. Very well, I will accept as much as you
want to tell us, while hoping that when you know us better, you
will confide all. Your problem, as I perceive it, is to find a way
to return to your own time and place. The only telepath I know who
has power strong enough to help you is Saray.”

“Can’t we see her right away?” Herne
asked.

Tula shook his head. “Arrangements must be
made. Morning is soon enough. In the meantime, let us enjoy Dulan’s
hospitality, which is famous throughout Tathan.”

They ate at a well-scrubbed wooden table in
the kitchen, sitting upon wooden chairs with woven rush seats. The
dishes and cutlery were simple, handmade shapes. There was a
poached fish fresh from the sea, served with vegetables and
homemade bread. They drank more of the beer-like beverage, which
Dulan told them was called batreen.

“It is made by fermenting our excess grain
after we have stored all we need for the winter or for seed in the
following spring. Batreen is a means of preserving the leftover
harvest rather than wasting it,” Dulan said. “Those who drink too
much too quickly do become inebriated for a short time, but there
are no aftereffects and the brew itself is healthful.”

Merin wondered if the cups of batreen she had
drunk earlier in the day had helped to lower her inhibitions, thus
allowing her to accept Herne’s embraces. The place where he had
entered her body still ached, but it was not an entirely unpleasant
feeling. In fact, each time she looked at him she thought of what
he had done to her and she wanted him to do it again. She wanted to
rise from Dulan’s table, to take Herne’s hand and lead him back to
their room, there to lie naked on the bed with him while he kissed
and caressed her. She wanted to feel him moving deep inside her,
thrusting, thrusting…. She picked up her cup of batreen and drained
it.

It was not surprising that Oressian laws were
so strict if this was the result of lovemaking, this almost
uncontrollable desire to do it again and again. She saw Tula
looking at her and remembered that he could sense emotion. He would
know how much she wanted Herne. To protect her disgracefully
lascivious thoughts from discovery, she forcefully banished Herne
from her mind while pulling about herself the tattered barriers of
her Oressian training. When she saw Tula’s startled expression she
knew she had been successful. Thereafter she paid strict attention
to the conversation, refusing to allow her mind to wander
again.

Dulan and Tula talked about the founding of
Tathan, the building of the settlement they proudly called a city.
It was a peaceful place, they said, productive and self-sufficient,
as all isolated colonies must be.

“Peaceful except for the disruptions caused
by Saray,” Herne said, returning to the subject that most
interested him. “I gather you both believe her experiments could
permanently divide your people.”

“A problem with which we must deal soon,
before Saray becomes so powerful that no one can stop her,” said
Dulan. “Perhaps it is our good fortune that you have come to us at
this particular time. We can help each other. Tula and I will do
all we can to assist you in your efforts to leave Tathan, while in
return we ask you to add your voices to ours as we try to make
Saray understand that what she is doing is wrong, and that she is
causing serious conflicts among our citizens.”

“Those of us old enough to recall the terrors
inflicted upon telepaths by the Jurisdiction know that we must
always stand together,” Tula put in. “It is the younger folk, born
here in peace and safety, who now would join Saray’s experiments
against the advice of their elders. We old ones know how divisive,
and how dangerous to all of us, those experiments could be.”

“Saray is not a wicked woman, but she is
woefully misguided by Ananka,” Dulan added.

“Your plan sounds reasonable enough to me,”
Herne said.

“Saray must know we are here,” Merin
remarked. “Why hasn’t she come to see the results of her latest
experiment?”

“It is my belief that the experiments exhaust
her. She will need time to rest and recover her strength,” Dulan
replied.

“’Exhaust her,’” Merin repeated, thinking.
“If that is so, perhaps we can make her see that these experiments
could be physically dangerous for people who are not as
telepathically strong as she is. If she has any sense of
responsibility at all, she won’t want to lead others into harmful
practices.”