Harvest of Dreams (The Gods' Dream Trilogy) (25 page)

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The next day, escorted by Priestess Wenda, Sadie approached the inner sanctum of the temple, located near where she’d stepped through the window from Seagem yesterday. After Sadie and Cheta had eaten breakfast, Wenda had appeared, bringing her the summons to Guinheld’s presence.

The closer they drew to Guinheld’s area, the more nervousness roiled in Sadie’s stomach.

After all, it isn’t every day that you talk to a real, live Goddess.

They passed the open doors of a tranquil indoor garden. The fragrant scent of growing things beckoned her inside. Sadie made a mental note to return and explore when she had a chance.

As Sadie walked, she could feel the stiffness of her muscles from yesterday’s workout. Although she’d woken feeling refreshed from a deep sleep, she’d needed a hot bath to loosen her up. Even a soak hadn’t made the muscle pain go away. She definitely missed ibuprofen. Maybe this world had some equivalent.

She rolled her shoulder, enjoying the freedom of movement, and concentrated on her body rather than her anxious thoughts.
A sore body from a workout was different than pain from an injury.
And she was so very grateful to Withea for healing her injury. Not for the first time, Sadie mentally quoted one of her coaches.
Post-practice pain is good pain. Means you worked out hard.

Sadie started to wonder about the meaning of “training.” Would she really do sword drills in the temple? “Is Guinheld going to train me?” she asked the priestess.

Wenda gave a faint shrug. “I don’t know. Perhaps She’ll put you into an othersense dream?”

“What’s that?”

Wenda shook her head. “Forgive me, Sadie. I forget you don’t know these things. An othersense dream is sent by the God…Goddess to communicate with us, teach us something, or show us someone.” The smile she gave Sadie trembled. “Yadarius sent othersense dreams to my parents to help them find each other. He doesn’t usually pick our mates, but sometimes he intervenes. Those marriages are especially blessed.”

“The perfect match,” Sadie said in a wry tone.

Wenda wrinkled her nose. “No one’s perfect. Nor are God-ordained marriages perfect. But a couple who is brought together by the SeaGod is well content with their relationship, and their children have powerful othersense, often becoming priests and priestesses.”

“What’s an othersense dream like?”

“They are all different. All I can tell you is the experience will feel very real.” the priestess’s tone turned cryptic. “Perhaps some of them
are
real.”

As she moved through the arched double doorway, twice the height of the women, Sadie’s attention shifted to her surroundings. The room with the vaulted ceilings was smaller than she’d expected—chapel size—and smelled like citrus incense. A larger-than-life-size statue of the Goddess, standing in the place of an altar in a Christian church, dominated the room. Two cot-sized blocks of stone, like parallel altars, lined up in front of Her.

The glowing marble figure of Guinheld wore a floor-length robe with a hood covering Her hair, but unlike Withea, she didn’t wear a veil. Her oval face and classically beautiful features seemed stern, until the Goddess gazed down at them, and Sadie saw the compassion and understanding in Her marble eyes. Her expression seemed softer than Withea’s.

Wenda bowed, and Sadie followed suit. “I’ll leave you here,” the priestess said, pressing her hands together and giving Sadie a slight bow of farewell.

Sadie wanted to protest. But she held in the words.

The Goddess waved one tapering hand toward the block on Sadie’s left.
Rest, Sadie
, said a voice in her head—like Withea; except the mental tone vibrated softer than the desert Goddess’s mental speech.
You have work to do
.

Wondering at Guinheld’s juxtaposition of rest and work, Sadie obediently sat on the block. To her surprise, instead of a hard surface, the top gave like a cushion.

The sound of footsteps made her look toward the entrance. Archpriest Devore and Tharon, both wearing white robes, entered the room. Tharon’s face looked drawn, and his smile to her and Wenda seemed forced.

“Good morning, Tharon.” Sadie wished she knew what was on his mind. “Good morning, Devore.”

Devore greeted her. He waved Tharon toward the other stone cot.

“Are we doing this together?” Sadie asked the Archpriest.

“Yes. I don’t know if you’ll be together throughout the whole othersense dream, but you surely will for part of it.”

Sadie didn’t know whether Tharon’s presence made her feel more or less apprehensive.

Another prompt from the Goddess made her lie down.

Tharon followed suit, staring at the ceiling.

Before Sadie had time to think about what was going to happen, she drifted to sleep.

Sadie found herself holding the handle of her travel case and standing at a wooden door set in a familiar looking greenstone wall.
I’m in Seagem,
she marveled, wondering why the Goddess had sent her here.

The door opened and Tharon appeared, but a Tharon she’d never seen before—young, perhaps even younger than she, auburn-haired and vibrant. He grinned at her, his golden eyes alight with pleasure, and gestured with the sword he held in his right hand for her to come in.

Shocked at his appearance, Sadie rooted her feet to the ground.

Tharon glanced behind him.

She saw his profile.
He looks like a face on a coin—with his auburn hair, he’s a shiny copper penny.
“How….how?” she stuttered.

Tharon reached out and grabbed her hand, towing her into the room. The wheels of the travel case rattled on the floor. “Ask not the ways of Deities,” he said.

The two-story room was filled with sunshine from large clerestory windows set high on one side, which reflected light off mirrored walls. Opposite the windows, a balcony for spectators ran the length of the room. Even sanding and polishing hadn’t erased the scuffs and dings in the wooden floor. Some of the windows were open, sending a fresh briny breeze through the area.

At a far corner, a little girl with long blond braids attacked pells with a miniature wooden sword. In the middle of the salle a grizzled old warrior fought with a young man about Tharon’s age.

Tharon slid his hand down her arm and entwined his fingers with Sadie’s, startling her and sending a thrill of energy shooting through her body. Connected, they watched the two men battle.

Here
was the expertise she’d missed in the Ocean’s Glory soldiers. The men fought with strength and skill beyond what she’d ever seen, even in the best of Renaissance fighters. One part of her watched in awe, enjoying the spectacle. The other part of her analyzed, trying to learn as much as she could about their style.

Sadie narrowed her eyes, quickly figuring out the two fought to a pattern. But unlike the chorography needed at Renaissance shows and fairs, these two pulled no blows, gave no quarter. The bout ended with a cross of swords. The two held the position for several seconds—probably a specific count, before lowering their blades.

The little girl glanced over, but, obedient to her training, didn’t stop whacking at the pells.

The men turned toward Sadie.

Tharon tugged her forward.

The young man eyed their joined hands and quirked a playful eyebrow.

Self-conscious, Sadie wiggled her fingers away from Tharon’s, wondering if she should set down her travel case. This time, she studied the men, not their bladework. Both wore padded tunics of faded green, which left their well-muscled shoulders and arms bare.

The younger man had laughing green eyes under dark brows, strong, handsome features, and long, blond hair tied back in a ponytail. He stood about the same height as Tharon. The older man wore his white-streaked bronze hair in a long plait, which matched his braided beard. Under bushy brows, sharp blue eyes assessed her, giving Sadie the feeling he could see every single one of her strengths and weaknesses. Perhaps in this magical world, he could, as well as access all her lessons, going back to the first one taken when she was five.

The young man swept her a bow. “I’m Indaran, and you’re obviously here to learn fighting from someone who knows how, rather than clumsy dolts who dance the patterns of Besolet.” His engaging grin made her smile back.

Besolet
. Sadie had to think for a few seconds before remembering the name of Ocean’s Glory’s displaced goddess.

Tharon stiffened. “Besolet’s patterns are quite effective, as I’ve proven to you time and time again.”

“Only when I’ve let you.” Indaran winked at Sadie.

The older man scowled and cleared his throat.

Tharon gave him a small bow of acknowledgment. “Sadie Issacson, I’d like you to meet Weaponsmaster Micfal, the greatest warrior in the land.”

The weaponsmaster nodded at her, then directed a pointed glance at the black travel case. “What do you have there?”

He’s probably never seen plastic before.
“I have my sabres inside.”

Micfal tugged on his beard. “Interesting way to carry them. Doesn’t look heavy.”

“It’s not.” Sadie twisted to tap the top of the case with her knuckles. “Although I doubt you have this material here.”

Tharon reached over to hook his fingers around the handle of her case. She released it to him. “You should see her with her sword, Weaponsmaster.” His tone turned droll. “Although I think the more appropriate word is stinger. The weapon’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. But, she needs to learn to defend herself from the reavers, using a proper blade.”

The weaponsmaster turned and whistled.

The little girl lowered her wooden sword. Carrying it, she trotted over to them.

Up close, Sadie judged her to be about five years old and could see her resemblance to Indaran, although his strong features were softened on the child’s cute face. With the contrast between her bright hair and dark brows and lashes, Sadie suspected the girl would grow up to be a beauty.

Tharon sketched the girl a bow. “My princess. I see you’ve vanquished those pells.”

She tilted up a determined chin. “I’m ready to fight you, Tharon.”

He laughed and reached out to tug one of her braids. “No doubt you will give me a good match. But first, I want you to meet Sadie Issacson. I’m sure you’ll have much to learn from each other.” He turned to Sadie. “Let me introduce you to Daria, Princess of Seagem, and the emerald in King Iceros’ crown.”

“Hey,” Indaran protested, pulling a mock frown. “You didn’t introduce me as one of father’s emeralds.”

Tharon rolled his eyes. “Indaran is the coal in the king’s crown.”

Sadie discretely stabbed Tharon with her elbow, but otherwise ignored him, directing her words to Indaran. “I take it that means you’re Daria’s brother?”

“Daria’s eldest brother,” he corrected.

A wave of sadness washed over Sadie. To hide her emotions, she touched the case. “You can examine this,” she told Micfal. “I need some air. Give me a few minutes.” She walked away from the group.
I’m probably breaking some kind of royal protocol,
but she couldn’t stand in front of them, bantering, seeing their obvious bonds, and not dwell on their future.

Sadie strove for a saunter, not a rush, toward the double glass doors at the end of the room and peered through them to see a balcony. She opened the door and went outside, closing them behind her. The rectangular area was small. They could have fit a round table, a few chairs, and two lounges in, but only a wooden bench lined one side. Sadie recalled seeing the palace when she first came to Seagem, how balconies dotted the walls.
They must have plenty of places to lounge and admire the view.

Sadie strode to the solid stone rail and looked over. She caught her breath. Below her, green walls circled a courtyard. Beyond the walls lay a grassy area; street upon street of buildings that looked like homes and shops marched to the turquoise sea. Across the city rose a hill crowned with the temple of Yadarius, and by squinting she could make out the people bustling about their business.

Sadness made a lump in her throat. Sadie leaned against the rail. She didn’t know enough about the timeline, just what Withea and Wenda had told her. Sometime in the future, when Daria became a woman, an evil man would bring ruin to this city. These people, engrossed in their daily lives, would be slain or captured. The handsome prince with the laughing green eyes would be dead. And so would Weaponsmaster Micfal.

Moisture stung Sadie’s eyes, but she couldn’t let the tears fall, for how could she explain her feelings when she went back inside? Every science-fiction story she’d ever read emphasized that you couldn’t go back in time and try to change the future. By doing so, other things could go terribly wrong. She might very well make things worse. But she was oh, so tempted.

What could be worse than what Thaddis does?

Sadie thought of Daria, trying to imagine her as a woman grown.
She survives. Finds love with a man from Earth. Would that happen if I interfere?