No Other Love (19 page)

He knew they might not be able to return to
their own time. They might both die here in Tathan when the
inevitable Cetan attack came. If necessary, he would give his life
to protect her. Whatever finally happened to them, he would always
be grateful to her for the happiness and the new peace she had
brought him. And nothing would ever make him stop loving her.

“We are to meet Saray at midmorning,” Dulan
told Merin and Herne when they gathered to eat the first meal of
the day. Tula, who was to go to Saray’s house with them, arrived
soon after. He brought their transportation with him, a wooden cart
painted bright blue and yellow, drawn by a pair of black Denebian
ixak.

“So this is where you get your leather.”
Herne appraised the prancing beasts with a knowing eye.

“Ours is not so fine as true Denebian
leather,” Tula said, “but it is adequate for our needs.”

“How many ixak did you bring to the planet
with you?” Herne asked, adding to Merin, “It’s no wonder Denebian
leather is so expensive. The Denebians have a near monopoly on it
because ixak are notoriously difficult to transport. When I was a
boy there were only a dozen ixak on all of Sibirna.”

“We lost fifty out of eighty animals during
our travels,” Dulan informed them. “Fortunately, most of the
survivors were female, so we were able to mate them to the
remaining males as soon as we arrived, and the herd has grown
steadily. They provide meat for those of us who choose to eat
animal products, their hides are tanned into leather, as Herne has
noted, and their sharp-edged horns make excellent cutting tools. We
turn their hooves into glue and grind their bones into a powder
that is used to make both pottery and mortar. There is little in
the ixak that is not valuable to us.”

“Best of all,” said Tula, holding the reins
tightly to keep the animals under control, “is their willingness to
pull heavy loads over long distances.”

Dulan and Tula climbed into the front seat of
the cart, with Tula driving. Merin and Herne sat in the back seat.
They were comfortable enough while moving slowly along the paved
streets of Tathan, but once they left the town and were heading
northward across a treeless plain, Tula urged the ixak into a
faster pace. It was a bumpy ride over a rutted country road. Merin
held tight to the side of the cart to keep herself from being
thrown about, and Herne did the same on his side. The two
telepaths, accustomed to this form of transportation, did not seem
to mind the lack of springs or of padding for the wooden seats.

“There is the River Tath on our left,” said
Dulan, waving a hand in that direction. “North of the city the land
begins to rise as we approach the cliffs. Half a day’s journey
beyond Saray’s house is the quarry where all of our building stone
is cut. The stone is floated down the Tath to the city on
barges.”

It took about an hour to reach Saray’s house,
which was built on a slight rise overlooking the river. A servant
was waiting at the entrance to show them to Saray.

The rooms through which they passed were
decorated in white, pale green, and silver. All were open and airy,
sheltered from sun and wind by the surrounding garden, which was
planted with trees and white flowers. They came out of the house
onto a sun-dappled terrace, where a small fountain played. In the
pool beneath the splashing water, blue and black fish darted,
searching for food. White stone benches were set about the terrace.
On one of them sat a black and white cat, and a woman with long
black hair. The woman rose as her visitors approached.

“I am honored that my old teacher comes to me
for help,” she said, looking at Dulan. “What is it you wish of
me?”

“I think you know,” said Dulan.

“Good day to you, Tula.” Saray smiled at him.
”Who are these strangers?”

“Merin and Herne.” Tula sounded annoyed, as
if he thought Saray was playing with him. “Thanks to you, they
landed in Tathan unwillingly, out of time, out of place. It is your
duty to return them at once, after which we expect you to cease
these outrageous experiments.”

“Gently, Tula.” Dulan put out a restraining
hand. “Saray is not one to be forced into anything.”

“Dear Dulan,” said Saray. “Always patient,
always slow to change.”

“Some changes are best not made,” said
Dulan.

With the black and white cat trailing after
her, Saray approached Merin and Herne. She was a gracefully slender
woman, but older than Merin had first thought. Seen from a nearer
perspective, there were fine lines about her dark eyes, and a
softness to the outline of chin and throat that suggested
approaching middle age. But there was no grey in the straight black
hair that hung almost to her waist and her white gown was fastened
at her shoulders with round gold brooches, a style that made clear
how firm and smooth her upper arms still were. Her feet were bare.
She wore twin bracelets of gold strands twisted together to look
like rope and tied into a knot at each wrist.

Merin glanced at Herne and saw that he had
noticed, too. Saray’s jewelry was more finely made, but in style it
was identical to the twin bracelets of a High Priest that Osiyar
had worn when he first arrived at Tarik’s colony.

“Do you call yourself a High Priestess?”
Herne demanded.

“Others do.” Saray responded with a look of
astonishment at the abrupt question. “I do not. I am but a conduit
for the power of Ananka.”

“From what I’ve heard and experienced,” Herne
told her, “you have great power yourself.”

“Why do you ask if I am a High Priestess?”
Saray inquired.

“We count among our friends a telepath who
was a High Priest in a different settlement on this world. He wore
bracelets like yours.”

“I am pleased to hear you say this.” Saray
flashed a triumphant look in Dulan’s direction. “Will you believe
me now, old teacher, that my efforts will have meaning far beyond
your lifetime or mine?”

“What I believe or do not believe is not the
issue here,” Dulan replied. “Your thoughtless experiment has harmed
these good people by removing them from their friends and all they
know. What you and Ananka do that does not affect others is not our
concern. But now you have begun to harm the innocent and the
unwilling. That we cannot allow.”

“Do not threaten me, Dulan. My power is
greater than yours.”

“While you were my pupil,” Dulan told her, “I
tried to instill in you a sense of moral obligation as well as
telepathic strength. Talent such as yours carries with it the
responsibility to balance it against the temptations of unbridled
power.”

“You accuse me of immorality, of
irresponsibility?” Saray looked stunned. “I have merely followed
the dictates of my teacher, who advised me always to test the
boundaries of my skills.”

“To every skill there are limits beyond which
it is unwise to reach,” Tula said.

“I would expect that from you,” Saray
sneered. “You, who cannot control your own detection of the
emotions of others, who have but minimal telepathic talent.”

“Tula has talent enough to cause him to be
banished from the Jurisdiction along with your parents and the rest
of us,” Dulan snapped. “Saray, we are not here to quarrel, but to
find solutions to mutual problems. We ask your help for Merin and
Herne.”

“I am aware of no problems that we have in
common,” Saray said distainfully. “And what you call a request
sounded more like a demand to me.”

“Saray.” Seeing the flash of rising anger in
the woman’s dark eyes, Merin decided she ought to make her feelings
known instead of letting others speak for her. “Herne and I do not
belong in Tathan. We want to go home.”

“And you believe I can send you there? How
flattering.” Saray transferred her attention from Dulan and Tula to
Merin.

“You brought us here. Only you can see us
safely back again,” Merin insisted, boldly meeting Saray’s
gaze.

“I did not do it alone,” Saray admitted. “I
needed Ananka’s strength to carry out this most daring of all my
experiments.”

“Now that you have proven your ability to
overcome the barriers of time, it seems to me that the necessary
next step would be to reverse your experiment. You can have no
other use for Herne and me. Please, send us home.” Merin kept her
gaze on Saray’s and held her breath, hoping.

“An eminently sensible scientific proposal,”
Saray said. Then, looking at Herne, she asked, “Does Merin speak
for you? Do you wish to leave Ananka and the delights she has to
offer in order to accompany Merin?”

“I love Merin,” Herne replied without
hesitation, his prompt and sincere words ending a moment of anguish
for Merin, making clear his preference for her over the mysterious
attractions of Ananka. “Wherever Merin is, I will be at her
side.”

“I think Ananka will not be pleased.” The
corners of Saray’s mouth pulled downward. “Still, because Merin has
made a polite request of me instead of commanding me as these two
who claim to be my friends have done, I will confer with Ananka on
the matter.”

“When may we expect an answer from you?”
asked Tula with more than a little impatience.

“The answer will not come from me, but from
Ananka. When I have learned it, I will convey it to you,” Saray
responded. “May I offer you food and drink after your journey?”

The question was a rhetorical one, for
servants had already appeared bearing trays of fruit and delicate
pastries, pitchers of cool water, and the ever-present batreen.
Feeling desperately hungry in spite of having eaten a large morning
meal, Merin eagerly accepted several pieces of fruit, some pastry,
and a goblet of water. She noticed that Herne was eating heartily,
too.

“Will you attend the Gathering tonight?”
Saray sat down next to Merin.

“Dulan has offered to take us,” Merin
said.

“A gathering is always an important and
formal occasion,“ Saray noted. “Have you anything else to
wear?”

Merin suppressed an impolite urge to remind
Saray that, thanks to her efforts, both Merin and Herne had arrived
in Tathan with only the clothing they wore.

“Since I see by your coif that you are an
Oressian, you will want a head covering as well as a gown.” Saray
stood, holding out a hand. “We will find something more fitting to
the occasion than that uniform.”

“I see nothing wrong with my uniform.”
Stubbornly, Merin remained seated on the bench.

“If you intend a deliberate insult to all
those who will be present in their finest garments, then wear
it.”

Saray did not enter Merin’s mind. She felt
nothing like the prickling sensation that had accompanied Osiyar’s
joining with her thoughts. Still, she was aware of the compulsion
of a powerful will. It was irresistible. Without a backward glance
at her companions, Merin followed Saray into the house, to a
bedchamber of white and pale green like all the other rooms she had
seen, lit by silver lamps, with gauzy white curtains blowing across
wide-open windows.

The cat had prowled silently behind Saray.
Now it jumped into the middle of the spotless white bed, where it
sat upright, watching the women. Merin felt herself released from
the power that Saray had exerted over he movements.

“Why did you do that?” she asked Saray.
“There was no need to compel me.”

“You would have wasted time in a foolish
argument which I would have won in the end,” Saray said, “because,
if you think about it in a reasonable way, you will agree that I am
right about this. It would be inexcusably rude of you to greet all
of Tathan in that outfit.”

“I have no intention of greeting all of
Tathan,” Merin said. “I will stand quietly at one side of the hall
to watch what happens.”

“And vanish into the background? Is that how
you protect yourself? I wonder that Herne ever noticed you.” Saray
looked her over from head to foot with an expression that was not
at all unfriendly. “You aren’t bad looking. You just need a little
help. Now, let me see what I can find that you might wear
tonight.”

“Saray, I am not interested in this
frivolity. Herne and I have one concern only, to return to our ship
and to our own time.”

“I am not being frivolous. Love is the most
serious subject there is. Do you want to keep Herne interested in
you, or not?” Saray laughed. “I have just the thing, and it has a
matching headdress, so you cannot refuse to wear it.” With that,
she vanished into the next room.

Having made up her mind that she was
absolutely not going to wear clothing chosen for her by Saray,
Merin walked to the window, pulling back the curtain a little to
look out at the green and white garden and the river. She could
hear the sound of Herne’s voice coming from inside the house,
followed by Dulan’s low, scratchy tones.

A sound behind her made her leave the window,
thinking that Saray had returned. It was not Saray. The cat was
gone, and in its place on the bed sat a woman, her eyes fixed on
Merin. She was almost transparent, the edges of her shape wavering
a little.

It was like looking into a slightly clouded
mirror, or the surface of still water. The woman wore a flowing
white gown, a short gold cloak was draped across her shoulders, and
her face was Merin’s face. In three small details only did this
apparition differ from Merin. Her curling hair was a light golden
brown, she had no scar on her right cheek, and though Merin could
not clearly see the color of her eyes, she had the impression that
they were some other shade than her own.

There was the sound of something dropping in
the next room and a muttered exclamation from Saray. Merin looked
toward the door. Not seeing Saray, she looked back to the bed.

The woman was gone. Where she had been, the
black and white cat sat once more. Merin took a step toward the
bed. The cat arched its back, hissing at her, then leapt off the
bed and ran out of the room.