Romilly knew the main army was approaching, not from what she heard - though, when she listened quietly, where she lay inside the tent she shared with Domna Maura, she could hear a soft distant sound in the very earth which she knew to be the noise of the great column of men on the march. But what really told her of Carolin's approach was a growing awareness within her mind, a sense of oneness, an approaching that she knew....
Sunstar. Her mind was within and surrounded by the black stallion, it seemed that it was not on his but her back that the king rode, surrounded by his men, and for a moment her mind strayed to touch his too, to see Orain for a moment through his eyes, with love and warmth. Once she had seen them together, unguarded, wishing somehow that she had such a friend. Now she shared, for a moment, the quick unconscious touch between the king and his sworn man, something not sexual but deeper than that, a closeness which went back through their lives, mind and heart and somehow encompassed even a picture of their first meeting as young children, not yet in their fourth year ... all three dimensions of time as somehow she was aware of Sunstar as a colt running hi the hills of his native country....
She jerked herself away from the extended contact and back into her own body, shocked and startled. She did not know what was happening, but she supposed it was some new dimension of her laran, opening of itself - what did she need, after all, of a Tower?
But the first person who came to her, when she was working around the birds, picking up little tags and fringes of the sight-awareness she had known yesterday when she flew them, was Jandria. After the two Swordswomen had greeted one another with a hug, Jandria said, "We had your message through the birds; it was Himself who told me." Romilly remembered that this was always how she spoke of King Carolin when he was not actually present. "You are doing well, Romy. And I have permission from the Swordswomen here for you to go on sharing Lady Maura's tent, if you will. I will go and speak to her; we were girls together."
Romilly held her peace - she had long known that Jandria was of higher rank than she had ever realized, though she had left it behind her when she took the oath of the Sisterhood. She turned her attention to the birds, though she could hear, with a tiny pang she recognized as jealousy, the two women talking behind her somewhere.
And 1 have no friend, no lover, 1 am alone, done as any monk in his solitary cell in the ice caves of Nevarsin ... and wondered what she was thinking about, for even now her mind was filled with the awareness of the great stallion racing in the sun, and Carolin with him, riding....
She made her reverence before she ever looked up at the king's face and then was not really sure whether she had bowed to Carolin or to Sunstar, his black mane disordered with the hill-country wind. Carolin slid from his back and greeted her graciously.
"Swordswoman Romilly, I came myself to bring you my thanks for your message; you and your companions with the sentry-birds. We are to march tomorrow on Rakhal's armies and you and the laranzu must do this, for I have pledged to my kinswoman Maura that she need not take part in any battle against her kinsman." He smiled at her. "Come, child, you were not so tongue-tied when you rode with me to Nevarsin. You called me 'Uncle' then."
Romilly blurted, "I did it in ignorance, sir. I meant no disrespect, I thought you were only Carlo of Blue Lake."
"And so I am," said Carolin gently, "Carlo was my childhood nickname, as my little cousin is called Caryl. And my mother gave me the country estate called Blue Lake when I was a boy of fifteen. And if I was not what you thought me, why, neither were you, for I thought you a stable boy, some MacAran's bastard, and not a leronis, and now I find you."
She remembered that he had seen her in boy's clothes, and she sensed that he had known her a girl quite soon, and for his own reasons had kept silent. That silence had allowed Orain to befriend her, and for that she was grateful. She said, "Your Majesty-"
He waved that aside. "I stand on no ceremony with friends, Romilly, and I have not forgotten that if it had not been for you, I would have been the banshee's breakfast. So; you will fly the sentry-birds to keep my advisers ahead of Rakhal's - or Lyondri's - movements into battle?"
She said, "I shall be honored, sir."
"Good. Now I must speak with my kinswoman and relieve her fears," he said. "Dame Jandria, too, I think, still has enough love for Lyondri."
"For what he was," said Jandria quietly, standing in the door of Maura's tent, "not for what he is, Carlo. It goes against me to raise my own hand to him, but I will not lift a single hand to hold back his fate. If I had laran enough, I would be among your leroni today, to hold back what he has become. If he still holds enough of what he was to know what he is now, he would pray for clean death."
Maura's eyes were wet with tears. She said, "Carlo, I swore I would never raise hand or laran against my Hastur kin. I am Elhalyn, and they are blood of my blood. But like Jandria, I will not hinder you from what you must do, either." She went to the perch where Temperance sat and bent her head before the bird, and Romilly knew it was because she was crying.
This war that sets brother against sister and father against son . . . what matters it which rogue sits on the throne or which greater rogue seeks to wrest it from him . . . ? she was not sure whether it was Ruyven's thought she heard, or whether her father spoke in her memory, for it seemed that time had no more existence....
Carolin said, looking at them sadly, "Still, I swore to protect my people, even if I must protect them from the Hastur kin who are unmindful of that oath. I wish you could know how little I want Rakhal's throne, or how gladly would I cede it to him if only he would treat my people as a king must, respecting them and protecting them. . . ." But at seemed he spoke to himself, and afterward Romilly was not sure whether he had spoken aloud or if she had imagined it all. Her laran, it seemed, was playing strange tricks on her, it seemed as if her mind was too small to enclose everything that wanted to crowd into it, and she felt somehow stretched, violated, crammed with strangenesses, as if her head were bursting with it. She said to Carolin, "May I greet my good friend, your horse, my lord?"
"Indeed, I think he is missing you," Carolin said, and she went to Sunstar, where Carolin had flung his reins around a rail when he dismounted, and flung her arms around the horse.
You are a king's mount but still are you mine, she said, not in words, and felt Sunstar in her mind, reaching out, mine, love, together, sunlight/sunstar/always together in the world. ...
She discovered that she was clinging to the rail alone; Sunstar was gone and Ruyven was touching her hesitantly. "What ails you, Romy? Are you sick?"
She said brusquely, "No," and went to the birds. Again, somehow, it seemed, she had lost track of time. Could this be some new property of her laran that she did not understand? Maybe she should ask Maura about it. She was a leronis and would certainly be willing to help. But she could hear Maura in her mind now, weeping for Rakhal who had once sought her hand, so that afterward Maura had become leronis and a pledged virgin . . . mourned for Rakhal as Jandria mourned for Lyondri . . . and she for Orain's old comradeship . . . no, that was gone, what was wrong with her mind these days?
There was no need of the sentry-birds this day, and Romilly, still weak and confused after yesterday's fierce efforts and the evil dreams of the night, was glad of it. Yet as she rode, in the favored place near Carolin and his advisers, she was not really conscious of herself or of her own horse, so much was she riding with Sunstar at the head of the troops. Orain was riding near them, and she heard him talking easily and as equals with Lady Maura and Lord Ranald.
"You have the Serrais laran, Ranald, it would be no trouble to you, I dare say, to learn to handle the birds; it is near enough the MacAran Gift, which I saw in Mistress Romilly all those weeks when we travelled together." From her distance Romilly could sense the memory of how Orain had watched her, with tenderness not unmixed with something else, something akin to love. She knew now why Orain avoided her, because he could not see Romilly now without me painful memory of the boy Rumal who he had thought he knew, and he felt like a fool, layers of awareness overlapping and blurring.
Ranald said, "I am willing to try. And perhaps Mistress Romilly would be willing to school me. Though like all she is arrogant and harsh of tongue-" and Maura's merry laughter, saying that he was not used to women who did not regard him, a Ridenow lord, as a special creation for their delight.
"Oh, come, Maura, I am not all that much of a womanizer, but if women were made by the Goddess Evanda for the delight of men, why should I refuse the Lady of Light her due by failing to worship Her in her creation, the loveliness of women?" he laughed. "No doubt She will punish you, one day, Orain, that you deny her due." And Orain's good-natured laughter, and Romilly knew that she was listening to a conversation not meant for her ears. She tried to shove it away but she did not know how, except by turning her attention elsewhere, and then she was riding again with Sunstar and too aware of Carolin. It was not a comfortable day, and when that evening Ranald came and asked if he could assist her to dismount, and said that he wished to learn the ways of the birds, so that he could fly one while Lady Maura was oath-bound not to do so, she was short with him.
"It is not so simple as all that. But you may try to approach them; however, do not complain to me if you should lose a fingernail or even an eye!"
She did not like the way he looked at her. It reminded her all too much of Dom Garris, or even Rory, as if he had physically fingered her young breasts with rude hands; she was painfully aware of his look - I have never felt this way before - and of the open desire in it. But he had done nothing, said nothing, how could she make any objection to it? She drew her cloak about her as if she was cold, and gestured him toward the birds.
He lowered his eyes and she knew he had picked up some sense of her unease. He said quietly, "Forgive me, mestra, I meant no offense." No more than Carolin could he seek to force any attentions on a woman unwilling, since he would share the victim's shock and distress, her sense of violation even at a rude look. But he was not used to women who were not of his own Hastur-kind who would be aware of this sensitivity.
Yet a woman who has not laran - it is like coupling with a dumb beast, hardly alive . . . she saw the scalding crimson on his turned-away neck and wished she knew how to tell him that it was all right. He approached the birds; she sensed the way in which he reached out to them, trying to echo the sense of harmlessness; to extend his senses toward the birds with nothing but the friendliest feelings. For a moment Romilly waited . . . then Temperance lowered her head and rubbed it against the scratching-stick in the Ridenow lord's hand.
So he will be flying them, and he will be one with us, as Maura was . . . she did not know why the thought troubled her.
Maura must be still with the army, Romilly thought, they could not have left her behind, with the country alive with War; but Romilly had not seen her that day. When they rode out ahead with the birds, it was Lord Ranald who came with them, Temperance on his saddle; Romilly had yielded her own favorite, Prudence, to Ruyven, so that she could take Diligence, who was the most difficult of the birds to handle, on her own saddle. Diligence fussed and shrilled restlessly, but quieted when Romilly touched her mind.
Yes, you're a beauty too, Romilly told the bird, and saw nothing incongruous in so addressing the huge, ugly creature.
But there was no call for their services that day, and Romilly was glad, for it would give Lord Ranald extra time to be completely familiar with the bird, to create close rapport with her. After an hour or so, when Romilly felt sure there would be no trouble and no need for her service, Romilly let her mind drift again into close contact with Sunstar, where he rode with Carolin at the head of the army.
Now it seemed that the countryside was deserted, with great open tracts of deserted lands, and now and again a quiet farmstead lying empty, wells broken, houses burnt or fallen away with time. Romilly, riding with Sunstar, was really not aware that she was eavesdropping on Carolin and Orain, riding together with Lady Maura close to them. Maura was wrapped in her cloak and spoke little, but Carolin said, looking at the deserted country, "When I was a child I rode through here and this was all settled land with farmers and crops. Now it is a wasteland."
"The war?" Maura asked.
"War in my father's time, before I was old enough to hold a sword - still I remember how green and fertile was this country. And now the settled lands are nearer to the edge of the hills; in the aftermath of war there are always bandits, men made homeless by war and conscienceless by the horrors they have seen; they ravaged this country, what the war had left of it, until the folk settled nearer to the protection of the forts and soldiers near Neskaya."
But Romilly, her mind submerged in Sunstar, thought only, how green and fertile were the fields, how lovely the pastures. They camped that night by a watercourse, a narrow brook which rolled and tumbled down a cascade of old piled rocks, then flowed smooth and lovely across a fertile meadow starred with little blue and golden flowers.
"It will be a perfect night in High Summer," said Carolin lazily, "Before the night is past, three of the moons will appear in the sky, and two of them near the full."
"What a pity we will not have Midsummer-Festival here," Maura laughed, and Carolin said, suddenly sober, "I vow to you, Maura - and to you, bredu," he added, turning to Orain with a smile of deep warmth, "that we shall hold our Midsummer-Festival within the walls of Hali, at home. What say you to that, cousins?"
"Evanda grant it," Maura said seriously, "I am homesick."
"What, none of the young men in that faraway tower beyond the mountains-" lightly, Carolin punned on the name of Tramontana - "have shaken your resolve to remain maiden for the Sight, Maura?"
Maura laughed, though the sound was strained.
"On the day when you invite me to be queen at your side, Carolin, I shall not send you away disappointed."
Sunstar jigged sidewise, restlessly, as Carolin leaned from his saddle to touch Maura's cheek lightly with his lips. He said, "If the Council will have it so, Maura, so be it. I had feared your heart was dead when Rakhal turned away from you."
"Only my pride was wounded," she said quietly. "I loved him, yes, as cousin, as foster-brother; but his cruelty slew my heart. He thought he could come to me over the bodies of my kinfolk, and I would forgive him all when I saw the crown he offered, like a child forgetting a bruise when she is given a sweetnut. I would not have it said that I turned from Rakhal to you because I would have the one who could bring me the crown-" her voice faltered, and Sunstar tossed his head indignantly at the jerk on the reins which brought him to a halt so that Carolin could lean again toward Maura's saddle; but this time he felt it as his rider lifted the slight from of the leronis bodily from her saddle to his own, and held her there. There were no more words, but Sunstar, and Romilly with him, sensed an outflow, an outpouring of emotion that made him restless, made him prance until Carolin chided him with a tug on the reins, and in Romilly's mind were flooding images of sleek flanks and satiny bodies, of swift running in moonlight, which made her rub her head as if she were feverish, with unfamiliar sensations flooding her whole body, so that she retreated abruptly into herself, away from the great stallion's unfamiliar emotions and touch.
What has come aver me, that I am so filled with emotion, that I laugh and cry without a word spoken or a touch?
Carolin said in her mind, and she was not conscious that he was not at her elbow, We can leave the horses for tonight in this field; you are a leronis, can you keep them there without fencing, which we have no time to set up? And Romilly was about to answer when she heard Maura's voice as dear as if spoken aloud, I have not Romilly's gift, but if you will summon her to help me, I will do what I can.
Romilly tugged the reins a little and pulled her own horse to a stop. Ruyven turned startled eyes on her, but she said, "We are to stop here for the night and I am summoned to the king and the leronis."
It was Orain who brought her the word, riding through the mass of men and horses and equipment flowing along the road, calling out, "Where are you off to, Romilly? The vai dom has requested you to attend him!"
"I know," said Romilly, and went on toward the king, leaving Orain staring and surprised behind her.
Carolin extended his arm toward the broad field. He said, "We are to make camp here for the night. Can you help Maura to set pastures here for the horses so that they will not stray?"
"Certainly," she said, and the men set about making camp, turning the best horses into the field, Sunstar among them.
Maura said, when they were done, "Now we shall set a chasm across which they will see, though we cannot; horses are afraid of heights, so we need only make them see it."
Romilly linked minds with the young leronis, and together they wove an illusion; a great chasm between horses and men, surrounding the pasture . .. Romilly, still partly linked in mind with Sunstar and her senses extending to her own horse and to the others in the field . . . and aware with them of the great black stallion - saw it and physically flinched, great spaces down which she might fall, shrinking back....
"Romilly," said Maura seriously, breaking away from the link, "You are what we call a wild telepath, are you not?"
She turned, filled with a prickly awareness of the critical sound in Maura's voice. "I don't know what you mean," she said stiffly.
"I mean, you are one whose laran has been developed of itself, without the discipline of a Tower," Maura said. "Do you know that it can be dangerous? I wish you would let me monitor you, and make certain that you are under control. Laran is no simple thing."
She said, even more stiffly, "The people of MacAran have been animal trainers, working with birds and horses and dogs, since time unknown; and not all of them have been supervised by the Towers either." A trace of the mountain accent crept back in her speech, as if the echo of her father's voice, saying, "The Hairimyn would have it that a man's own mind must be ruled over by their leronyn and their Towers!"
Maura said placatingly, "I have no wish to rule over you, Romilly, but you look feverish, and you are still of an age where you might be subject to some of the dangers of laran improperly supervised and developed. If you cannot allow me to monitor you and see what has happened to you, your brother-"
Still less, Romilly thought, could she allow her stern and ascetic brother, so like a cristoforo monk, to read the thoughts she hardly dared acknowledge to herself. She twisted away impatiently, fumbling at a barrier against Maura. "It is generous of you, vai domna, but truly you need not concern yourself about me."
Maura frowned a little, and Romilly sensed that she was weighing the ethics of a Tower-trained telepath, never to intrude, against a very real concern for the girl. It annoyed Romilly - Maura was not so much older than she was herself, why did she think she was needed to straighten out Romilly's laran?
I was left on my own with it, and now when I need it no longer they are eager to offer help! I was not offered help when my father would have sold me to Dom Garris, and there was none to help me when I would have been raped by Rory, or when I made an idiot of myself forcing my way into Orain's bed. I have won these battles alone and unhelped, what makes them think I need their damned condescension now?
Maura still looked at her uneasily, but at last, to Romilly's relief, she sighed and turned away.
"Look," Carolin said, and pointed, "Are you sure that your illusion has worked?"
Romilly looked up, her breath almost stopping; Sunstar was rushing toward them, his head flung up, his legs seeming hardly to touch the ground as he bolted. Maura lifted her hand. "Wait," she said, and as Sunstar reached the corner of the meadow he stopped short, placing all four feet together as if truly on the edge of a cliff, his head lowered, foam dripping from his teeth as if in mortal terror. He shuddered with fear, then snorted, backed away, tossed his head and raced away in the other direction.
"The illusion will hold them tonight, at least," Maura said.
"But he is so frightened," Romilly protested; she was dripping with the stallion's sweat of fear.
"Neither memory nor imagination," said Maura quietly. "You have both, Romy, but look at him now." And, indeed, Sunstar was quietly cropping grass; he stopped, sniffed the wind and began to move closer to a group of mares silently grazing in the meadow.
"He will improve the quality of your royal stables," said Orain jocularly, "and any mare he covers tonight will have a foal worthy of those same stables, I doubt not."
Carolin chuckled. "He is welcome to his sport, old friend. We who are responsible for this war-" he touched Maura gently, only on the shoulder, but the look that passed between them made Romilly blush, "must wait for a while for our satisfactions; but they will be all the dearer for that, will they not, my love?"
She only smiled, but Romilly physically turned her eyes from the intensity of that smile.
That night Jandria came and asked Romilly if she wished to join the Swordswomen's mess again, now that she was not riding ahead of her special detachment with the birds. It was evident from Jandria's voice that she expected Romilly to be overjoyed at being allowed again to join her sisters, but Romilly was too weary and raw-edged for the chatter, the noise and giggling of the young women of the Sisterhood, eager to sleep away from their communal tent. She made the excuse that she was still needed among the birds.
"And you need not fear that I am improperly guarded," she said sourly, "for between the Lady Maura and my monkish brother, I might as well be a priestess of Avarra on her guarded isle where no man may come without the Dark Mother's death-curse!"
She could see that Jandria was still troubled, but the older woman only embraced her. She said, "Rest well, then, little sister. You look so weary; they have demanded much of you in very little time, and you are still young. Be sure to eat a good supper; I have known leroni before this, and to replenish their energies after their work, a fragile little girl will eat enough to satisfy three wood-cutters! And sleep long and soundly, my dear."
She went away; Romilly fed the birds, with Ruyven's help, and even Lord Ranald, she noted with satisfaction, did not shirk his share of the tending. But the smell of their carrion food which the army hunters had brought her, made her feel queasy again, and although Carolin had sent a good haunch of roast chervine from his own tables, with his compliments to his bird-handlers, she could hardly eat and only shoved the food around on her plate.
By the time the camp was completely settled for the night, it was well past sunset, but the night was lighted with three full moons, and the fourth was a half-filled crescent.
"Four moons," said Lord Ranald, laughing, "What madness shall we do? They say in Thendara, What is done under four moons need not be remembered or regretted...
Ruyven said with frozen courtesy, "Such nights are sacred, friend; I shall spend much of my night in sacred silence and meditation, if Carolin's soldiers-" he gestured to where, faintly and downwind, he could hear the sound of a rryl and loud, untuneful voices all shouting the chorus of a popular drinking song, "will allow me a little peace."
"The king's quartermasters have given the soldiers an extra ration of wine," Lord Ranald said, "but not enough to make them drunk; they will sit round their fires and sing in the moonlight, that is all." He offered Romilly his arm. "Shall we join them at their fires? There are three or four men in my old unit who have fine voices and sing together in taverns; they sing well enough to get all the beer they want, and more. And be assured they will offer a Swordswoman no discourtesy, but be pleased to know you have come to hear their music."
"They sound not like such fine voices," said Romilly, listening to the discordance of the faraway song, and Ranald laughed.
"They are but amusing themselves; it would not be worth the trouble of the Windsong Brothers - for so they call themselves, though they are not brothers but four cousins - to sing before all are assembled and calling for entertainment. We will be in plenty of time to hear them, and the soldiers like it if the gentry come to their fires to hear their amusements."
Put like that, Romilly could not refuse, though she felt dull and headachy and wished she could go quietly to bed. But with the camp filled with song and laughter she knew she would not sleep anyhow; perhaps Ruyven had the discipline for quiet meditation in such a racket, but she did not. She took his offered arm.
The moonlight made it almost as bright as day - well, perhaps a grey and rainy day; she did not think she could have read print, and the colors of Ranald's garish cloak and her own crimson tunic, were indistinct, but there was plenty of light to make out where they were going. A part of Romilly, unawares, was cropping grass in the meadow with Sunstar, and yet she was filled with a strange restlessness. As they neared the fires they could hear the soldiers roaring out a song whose words were far from decorous, about some scandalous goings-on among the nobility.
"O, my father was the Keeper of the Arilinn Tower, He seduced a chieri with a kireseth flower; From this union there were three; Two were emmasca and the other was me..."
"That song," said Ranald, "would have them torn to pieces if they sang it anywhere on the Plains of Arilinn. Here it is different, there is an old rivalry between Arilinn and Neskaya Towers ..."
"Curious goings-on for a Tower," said Romilly, whose picture of a Tower was still colored by what she had seen in Ruyven's disciplined and austere thoughts.
He chuckled. "I spent a few years in a Tower - just enough to learn control of my laran. You must know how it is. When it began, when I was thirteen, I sometimes could hardly tell myself from a crtdmac in rut, or from going into heat with every bitch on the farm! It was very upsetting to my governess - I was still in the schoolroom then. Of course, she was a frozen-faced old viper - I won't insult my favorite dog by calling the lady a bitch! I am sure she often wished she could have had me gelded like the pack chervines, so she could go with my lessons!"
Romilly giggled uneasily. He sensed her unease and said kindly, "I am sorry - I had forgotten you were a cristoforo and brought up to their ways. I had thought girls were different, but I had four sisters, and if I had ever entertained any feelings that girls were different and more delicate, I got over them soon enough - and I won't apologize, you are a woman from the mountains and I know from your work with the birds that you have been around animals enough to know what I mean."
Romilly blushed, but the feeling was not unpleasant, and she remembered the high summer in her own hills near Falconsward, the world flowing with life, cattle and horses mating, so that she too had unashamedly shared the flow of nature all round her, even though, with her child's body, it had been an undifferentiated awareness, sensual but never personal. She knew he was teasing her, but she did not really care.
Listen," said Ranald, "There are the singers." They were all in the uniform of common soldiers; four men, on tall and burly, another with shaggy, reddish-brown hair and an untrimmed patch of beard, one short and fat with a round, rosy face and a lopsided smile, and the fourth tall and gaunt, with a scrawny face and big red hands; but from his throat came the most exquisite tenor she had ever heard. They hummed a little together to find their pitch, then began to sing a popular drinking song which, Romilly knew was very old.
Aldones bless the human elbow.
May he bless it where it bends;
If it bent too short, we'd go dry, I fear,
If it bent too long, we'd be drinking in our ear..."
They finished the catch by up-ending their tankards with a flourish to show them empty, and the soldiers roared approval and poured them all brimming mugfulls, which they drank and then began another song.
Their songs were rowdy but not indelicate, mostly concerned with the pleasures of drink and women, and their voices were splendid; with the rest, Romilly cheered and sang along on the choruses till she was hoarse. It made her forget her own strange feelings, and she was grateful to Lord Ranald for suggesting this. At one point someone thrust a mug into her hand - it was the strong, fragrant lowlands beer, and she felt a little tipsy from it; her voice sounded good to herself - usually she had no singing voice to speak of - and she felt pleasantly dizzied and yet - not drunk enough to be off her guard. At last, it grew later and the men sought their beds, and the Windsong Brothers, full of wine and yet walking steadily, sang their last song to wild cheers and applause. Romilly had to lean on Ranald as she sought her tent.
He drew her close to him in the bright moonlight. He whispered, "Romy - what is done under the four moons need not be remembered or regretted."
Half-heartedly she shoved him away. "I am a Swordswoman. I do not want to disgrace my earring. You think me wanton, then, because I am a mountain girl? And Lady Maura shares my tent."
"Maura will not leave Carolin this night," Ranald said seriously, "They cannot marry, till the Council had agreed, and will not while she is needed as his leronis, but they will have what they can; do you think she would blame you? Or do you think me selfish enough to make you pregnant, while we are in the middle of this war and your skills are as valuable as mine?" He tried to pull her into his arms again, but she shook her head, wordless, and he let her go.
"I wish - but it would be no pleasure to me if it was none to you," he said, but he pressed a kiss into her palm. "Perhaps - never mind. Sleep well, then, Romilly." He bowed again, and left her; she felt empty and chill, and almost wished she had not sent him away....
I do not know what I want. I do not think it is that.
Even in her tent - and Ranald had been right, Lady Maura was not within, her blanketroll was tossed empty on the floor of the tent - she felt that the moonlight was flooding through her whole body. She crawled into her blankets, pulling off her clothes; usually she left on her undertunic at night, but tonight she felt so heated in the moonlight that she could hardly bear the touch of cloth on her feverish limbs. The music and the beer were still pounding in her head, but in the dark and silence, it seemed that she was outside in the moonlight, that she was somewhere pawing at the grass, a sweet, heady smell arising from the earth and somewhere a frantic restlessness everywhere within her.
Sunstar, too, seemed flooded with the restlessness of the four moons and their light . . . now she was linked deep in rapport with the stallion . . . this was not new to her, she had sensed this before, in bygone summers, but never with the full strength of her awakened laran, her suddenly wakeful body . . . the scent of the grass, the flooding of life through her veins till she was all one great aching tension . . . sweet scents with a tang of what seemed to her shared and doubled senses a tang of musk and summer flowers and something she did not even recognize, so deeply was it part of herself, profoundly sexual, sweeping away barriers of thought and understanding . . . at one and the same time she was one with the great stallion in rut, and she was Romilly, frightened, fighting to break out of the rapport which she had, before this, shared so unthinking, it was too much for her now, she could not contain it, she was bursting with the pressure of the raw, animal sexuality under the stimulating light of the moons. . . . She felt her own body twisting and turning as she fought to escape, hardly knowing what it was she dreaded, but if it should happen she was terrified, she would not bear it she would be drawn in forever and never get back never to her own body what body she had no idea it was too much unendurable ... PASSION, TERROR, RUT ...NO, NO...
Blue moonlight flooded the tent as the flap was drawn back . . . but she did not see it, she was beyond seeing, only the moonlight somehow reached her fighting body, tossing head. ...
She was held gently in gentle arms; a voice was calling her name softly. Gentle hands were touching her.
"Romilly, Romy . . . Romy, come back, come back . . . here, let me hold you like this, poor little one . . .come back to me, come back here . . ." and she saw Ranald's face, heard his voice softly calling her; she felt as if she was drowning in the flood of what she was not, came back gratefully to awareness of her own body, held close in Ranald's arms. His lips covered hers and she put up her arms and drew him down wildly to her, anything now, anything to keep her here safely within her own body, shut out the unendurable overload of emotion and physical sensation; Ranald's arms held her, Ranald caressed her, she was herself, she was Romilly again, and she hardly knew whether it was fear, or gratitude, or real desire, that locked her lips to his, flung her into his arms, thrusting away all the unwanted contact with the stallion, reminding her that she was human, human, she was real, and this, this was what she wanted. . . . She could read in his mind that he was startled and delighted, even if a little overcome, by her violent acceptance, and more startled yet to find her virgin, but it did not, in that shared violence of that moment, matter to either of them at all.
"I knew," he whispered afterward, "I knew it would be too much for you. I do not think it was to me you were calling, but I was here, and I knew...."
She kissed him thankfully, astonished and delighted. It had happened so naturally, it now seemed so sweet and right to her. A random thought, as she floated off into sleep, touched her mind at the edge of laughter.
It would never have been like this with Dom Garris! I was perfectly right not to marry him.