Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Science Fiction, #Usernet, #C429, #Kat, #Extratorrents
Cholayna looked at her with interest. She said, “That is a point of view often debated at Head Center. I had not expected to hear it in this House - “
“From a native midwife, or would you call me a witch doctor or sorceress?” asked Marisela, and they smiled at each other in the friendliest way.
But Jaelle was restless as the conversation went far afield into complicated matters of ethics, and was relieved when Cholayna rose to go. Cholayna said, “You may stay as long as you wish, Jaelle, you are certainly entitled to a holiday,” but she went for her cloak, telling the older women that she had some work to do. She could surely find some work in Monty’s office, since he, and Aleki, had left so much undone when they went to the fire lines.
But, restless and alone that night in the Quarters which seemed so much too big for her, with Peter away, she could not rest. The Guild House now seemed as unfriendly as the Terran Zone. And her main reason in going there had failed; she had wanted to see Magda, and Magda had been away on the fire lines, and Marisela and Mother Lauria, friendly as they were, were not really involved in her problems. There was no reason they should be.
She had wanted, no, needed to see Magda and make friends again with her. Would it be better to pretend that nothing had happened, or to insist that they talk frankly about it? Perhaps it meant nothing. After all, Magda had had a tremendous load on mind and spirit; all the pressures of the housebound time, hostility because of the fight and the indemnity, the fear of being dismissed from the Guild House, the pressures of the training sessions and the endless nightmares… was it any wonder Magda had no extra strength to deal with Jaelle’s troubles?
Yet it was more than that. Jaelle searched in her mind and found only a confused image of herself picking Kyril’s hand off her arm as if it were a crawling bug; intrusive, unplesantly suggestive of an unwanted intimacy. Yes, and before supper when she had hugged and kissed Magda, the other woman had drawn away uneasily.
Everyone already thinks I am your lover
. We should talk about that; between oath-sisters there should be no such barrier.
It was taken for granted in the Guild House, but after the usual adolescent experiments, she had never thought about it. For a time when she had first set up the business with Rafaella - they had been lovers, for a time, but it had seemed no more than a way of cementing deep friendship, and Rafaella was at heart far more interested in men; after a few weeks it had simmered down into affection, had in fact never been much more. She had taken it for granted as part of their bonding; had, she now realized, felt that she and Magda should have shared this gesture of trust, of love and openness to one another. But if it was not the custom among Magda’s people, as it certainly was not among, for instance, the
cristoforos
, why did she feel so rejected? Was she afraid Magda would come to despise her, and if she could lose Magda’s friendship over a thing as simple as that, was her friendship worth having?
She held endless conversations inside her own mind, but once or twice when it seemed she could almost see Magda’s face…
I shall be reaching her with
laran
if I do not take care
… she tried, in a panic, to slam her mind shut. Now she regretted she had never accepted Rohana’s offer, no, her plea, that she should go, even briefly, to a Tower to have her
laran
trained. Now it was too late. Was it too late? And then she would find herself crying again.
She had completely ceased to use the corticator tapes; but she realized that the Language department did not know it, they were complimenting her daily about her growing command of the language.
One evening, when she came into her rooms, she found Peter there, stripping off mud-crusted shirt and trousers.
“No, don’t kiss me yet, sweetheart, for God’s sake wait until I get out of these things and shower; to put it bluntly, I stink,” he said. She sniffed. He certainly did. She supposed her senses had been sharpened by constant access to the level of sanitation in the Terran Zone, where the slightest stain was instantly scrubbed away and disposable clothing was the norm. He thrust his toward the disposal, then wrinkled his nose, bagged them and shoved them into a closet.
“I guess I’d better take them down to be cleaned; they’re field clothes and a little grime will make them more authentic,” he said, with a wry grin. “How’s junior?” He patted her still-flat tummy as he headed for the shower, and she heard his voice trailing off, mostly something about how good it was to be back where he could get hot water and civilization.
The Empire people think civilization and plumbing are the same thing. They are neurotic about smells and dirt, she thought. He should have kissed me, at least! She lay down on the bed, feeling bruised. He hadn’t asked about her, only the baby. She felt angry at herself for feeling that way; he was tired, just off the trail, and she was certainly being too sensitive, but like Rohana, once she was pregnant she was not herself, only a sort of walking nest for the damned baby! She buried her face in the pillow. Not an honest feather in it, some damned synthetic stuff. She took a long breath and she smelled again the aseptic, the
Terran
smell of it. It was only the smell. She would not cry. She
would
not.
She could go now, she didn’t have to stay here. In half an hour’s walk she could be in the Guild House. But she was sworn; she was legitimately employed to fill Magda’s place in the Terran HQ. Magda had not violated her pledge to the Guild House, under stresses far worse than this; she must at least match Magda’s courage.
Would they even
want
her in the Guild House, swelling daily with a Terran’s baby like any drab from the spaceport bars? She could tell herself it was different as much as she wished, but she had wanted Peter, she had wanted to lie with him and now there was a child coming, a child who would never be at home in either world. She was crying now, she did not hear Peter come out of the shower, and when he tried to embrace her she fought and cried hysterically until in the end he had to call a Medic. She spent the rest of the night down on the Hospital floor, drugged into unconscious sleep. There was nowhere else to go.
Part Three:
OUTGROWTH
CHAPTER ONE
Although Magda’s household time would not end till forty days after Midsummer, custom freed the Renunciate novices for the day itself, and Magda came down to breakfast to hear the women discussing their plans for the holiday. Keitha and Magda had been told they might go where they wished during day and the night following; but must be back within the House by dawn.
“What are your plans, Keitha?”
“A midwife cannot make many plans. But before Doria left for Neskaya, she asked me to go this day and see her birth-mother. The woman will not come and see her daughter here, but Rafi says she often asks if Doria is well and content.”
“That she does,” Rafaella said, sliding down her bowl for porridge. “I think she is afraid Doria will try and make Amazons of her other daughters, but I do not think any of Graciela’s other girls have sense enough to take the Oath. She has not seen Doria ten times in the five years before this, but the day Doria was fifteen she began plying her with gifts and offering to find her a husband. Nothing would please her more than to have Dori repudiate her fosterage here and marry the first oaf who offered for her. I do not think she will be glad to see either of us, but whether or no, we will take her Doria’s gifts and greetings. And I shall see my youngest son, whom I have not seen in half a year.”
Magda remembered that Doria’s mother had given her up when she was born, in return for Rafaella’s son.
“I too was promised I might see my son,” Felicia said, “but I do not know if I can bear it yet, or whether it might be cruel to him…”
“Rafi, you are wanted in the stable,” said Janetta, poking her head into the dining hall.
“Well, what is it?” said Rafaella impatiently, “Does one of the horses wish to give me Midsummer greetings?”
“A man who says it is business,” Janetta told her, and Rafaella grumbled, threw down her fork and, still munching on a piece of the excellent nut cake which had made its appearance on the table in lieu of ordinary bread and butter, went off toward the stable. Two minutes later Janetta came back and said, “Margali, Rafi wants you too.”
Magda had not finished her breakfast, but she was pleased enough at the disappearance of Rafaella’s hostility that she went at once; she had tried enough to reassure Rafaella that she would fill Jaelle’s place in their business as much as she could, and it was worth being disturbed even at the holiday breakfast. She said, “Save me a piece - ” she hesitated; she could hardly call it coffee cake, which would have been the Terran word, and no one had mentioned what they called it; she pointed and Keitha laughed. “I’ll guard it with my life!”
Rafaella was talking to a tall man shrouded in a thick cape; he was at the head of a string of horses, among them a few of the fine Armida-bred blacks. Several, too, were the shaggy ponies of the Hellers.
“Margali, I am sorry to ask you to work at Festival, but I did not expect these ponies for another tenday -
“I too am sorry to disturb you on holiday,
mestra
, but I was in the City now,” said the man, and Margali suddenly recognized his voice; he was the big fair-haired man who had carried her out of the fire lines,
Dom
Ann’dra.
The Terran
! But he was talking about the ponies in an accent better than her own.
“I could not find the ten you wanted, but I have seven here; they are strong and already immune to the hoof-rot, and all have been broken to halter and pack.”
Rafaella was going to one after another, examining teeth, patting soft muzzles. “They are good ones,” she said, “but why are you in the City so late in the season,
Dom
Ann’dra? Is your lady traveling with you? And the Lord Damon, will he be in the City for Council Season?”
“No, I am traveling all but alone this year; but since I was coming this way, I was able to escort Ferrika to you.” He held out his hand to help down a woman in a heavy traveling mantle who was seated on one of the horses. Over Rafaella’s shoulder, as he turned, he recognized Magda and said, “Oh, it is you - I was concerned about you,
mestra
, did your feet heal properly?”
“Oh, yes, quite well,” Magda said. “Only my boots were burnt beyond repair: my feet are fine.”
Rafaella and Ferrika hugged one another and Rafaella said, “I had hoped you could come earlier in the season, Ferrika - “
The small snub-nosed woman smiled and said, “I too wished to come; but there was need of my services at Armida.”
“More children on the estates? Or one of your ladies?”
Ferrika shook her head. She looked grieved. “The Lady Ellemir miscarried a child earlier this year; and her sister stayed to nurse her, - Lady Callista will not take her seat in Council this season - “
“I wonder, then, that you would leave your lady,” Rafaella said, but Ann’dra interrupted. “Ferrika is not servant to us, but friend; and Ellemir is well again. But none of us have any heart for merrymaking this year, and there is little to be accomplished at Midsummer, so I came to do what business I must and pay my respects to the Lords of the Council; then I shall be off home again, probably at dawn. I was sorry to disturb your festival, but I did not wish to stable the beasts in a public compound when they could be in their new home.”
“I am grateful to you,” Rafaella said. “It takes a tenday or so to quiet them after the long trip; they are far better here in their own stable. Ferrika,
breda
, don’t stand out here, go inside and greet your sisters, breakfast is on the table!”
“And holiday nut cake? Marvelous,” Ferrika said, and went into the house. Rafaella handed a pony’s lead to Magda and said, “Will you take this one into that box-stall down there?”
When she came back Rafaella was writing, propped against the wall. She handed the paper to
Dom
Ann’dra.
“Take this to my patron,
Dom
Ann’dra, and she will arrange to have you paid; the horses are for her, I understand. May the Goddess grant that Lady Ellemir is well again soon.”
“Amen to that. Shall I bring the other ponies when I come again?”
“Or sooner, if you have a messenger you can trust,” said Rafaella. “And I need a good saddle-horse for an oath-gift to my daughter at Neskaya Guild House; is one available?”