Under A Velvet Cloak (3 page)

“Your dream knew,” Kerena said, seeing the rational explanation. “It was unable to warn you until you slept.”

“I must get that letter back. I sent it only yesterday, and my messenger is not a swift traveler. I’ll send a faster one to intercept him.” He looked at Kerena. “Thank you, apprentice. Here is silver for your master’s fee.” He gave her a piece that would readily cover Morely’s normal charge.

She was exhilarated as she returned. She had done a professional dream interpretation and the client was satisfied. She was a success!

Another time a woman approached her in tears. “I was away too long and my hearth fire went out!” she wailed. “That means terrible bad luck. What can I do?”

“Go check her situation,” Morely told Kerena, because as usual he was tied up with another client.

She went to the woman’s house. There was no doubt: the fire was completely out, and incapable of being revived. If she had to light it again, the bad luck would be locked in, because it would no longer be the original fire.

Kerena wanted to help her, and not just for the fee. The woman was in great distress. But what could she do?

She looked around somewhat desperately. In the corner of the room was a small dim lamp. That gave her an idea. “That lamp-how did you light it?”

“Why, from the hearth, of course-a brand from it.”

Exactly. Fire was not that easy to make, so was spread about as convenient. “Then that’s a trace of the original fire. Use the lamp to restore it, and it will be as if it never expired.”

An expression of pleased wonder crossed the woman’s face. “Are you sure?”

This was the place for proper confidence. “Yes. The fire knows its origin. There will be no bad luck.”

Soon it was done, and the woman was overjoyed. Since luck was mainly in the mind of the person, as Morely had told her, this was a fair fix.

“You are doing very well,” Morely told her, pleased. “Many clients are asking for you instead of me, and not just the horny young men.”

“I am but a reflection of your genius.”

He shook his head. “It’s a shame to have such lovely false flattery wasted on a non-client.”

Kerena didn’t argue, but neither did she agree. It wasn’t false, and it wasn’t, she hoped, being wasted.Six months into her apprenticeship Kerena lay on the velvet cloak and stared up at the night sky. It was unusually clear, and the stars were bright in their myriads. Jolie knew the girl was ready to make her move. For one thing, she had the love goddess figurine in her channel. Her passion was mounting.

“Please, speak of the stars,” she said. “I am sure you know of them.”

She was not guessing; he had evinced fascination with the stars, and of course they were on his cloak.

“That is a subject larger than the world we know, and less believable,” he demurred.

“I am restless with curiosity. What is that one there?” She pointed.

“Describe it; I can not see which one you mean.”

“Come here so you can follow my gaze.”

Jolie had to admire the way the girl got him to come close. If he was not amenable to what she had in mind, he would avoid it.

Morely came and lay beside her on the cloak. He put his head next to hers. “Where?”

“There.” She pointed again, so he could sight along her arm. “That bright triangle to the north.”

“Ah. That is Cepheus.”

“Who?”

“By Greek legend, he was the king of Ethiopia. The triangle forms his loin, abutted by additional stars to fill out the rest of his figure. Beside him is his wife, the vain and heartless Queen Cassiopeia.”

“You were among the Greeks?”

“I have known some in my day.”

“What is their story?”

“She annoyed the powerful Nereids, or sea nymphs by boasting of the beauty of her daughter Andromeda as greater than theirs. They persuaded the god of the sea to send a sea monster to ravage the coast. The only way to stop it was to sacrifice Andromeda to it. So the queen did so, chaining her lovely daughter to a rock by the shore. Fortunately a hero came to rescue and marry her. Now they are all stars in the sky.”

“They are
represented
by stars in the sky.”

“True,” he agreed, pleased by the distinction she had made.

“Even as you rescued me from my pointless life,” she said, catching his hand.

“If you see it so,” he agreed tolerantly. He was well aware she was flirting with him, and pleased that she was doing it well.

“And will you also marry me?”

Hoo!
Jolie thought. That was too direct. But of course the girl lacked experience.

“The subject seems to have shifted.”

“That is not an answer.”

“That is an avoidance,” he agreed, pleased again.

She rolled over, lifted her head over his, and kissed him. “I would like an answer.”

Still too direct. The girl was in danger of losing it.

“You are being presumptuous.”

“That is not an answer.”

“We are not two years along, or even one year.”

“Is that relevant?”

“You are not yet a woman.”

“Yes I am. I have come upon the Curse. That marks the shift.”

“You are not breasted.”

“Yes I am. They are small as yet, but growing.” She caught his hand and guided it.

Jolie marveled again. Boldness had its merits, but this was too much of a gamble. The love amulet was driving her.

Morely tried to withdraw his captive hand. “This is not appropriate.”

“You questioned my development. Now you must allow me to make my case.”

Her logic was impeccable. He allowed her to set his hand on one small breast, then the other. “You are a woman,” he agreed.

“So it can be at any time.”

“At any time. Not necessarily now.”

“Such a thing must be mutually voluntary,” she said. “I am advising you that I have volunteered. Would it help if I said I love you?”

Clever, girl! But a more subtle approach would have been more likely to catch him.

He laughed. “You are learning too well!” But he remained reluctant. She had made a point, not won a battle. He was not a man to be persuaded by mere availability and willingness. She appreciated that, because many of the villages had girls who expressed both, some of them quite fetching, yet he had courteously demurred. He was saving himself for her.

Back off, girl. You can’t push him farther.

“I must learn the other legends of the stars,” Kerena said. “But I question them.”

“There are variants. Mine can not be regarded as definitive.”

“I question
all
legends, as you have taught me. It does not seem reasonable that a man, or his wife, or their lovely daughter could sail up into the sky and become stars. Assuming there exists a mechanism, what is the point?”

“So that others will remember them.”

“Are they alive or dead?”

“As far as this mortal realm is concerned, I should think they are dead.”

“Then do they care about memories?”

“Perhaps not.”

“So it may be that the stars have some other origin.”

“It may be,” he agreed. He was waiting to see where she was going on this.

“As I walk past a tree, my perspective shifts. Near things change more than distant things. But the stars
do
not shift when I walk; they follow their own limited courses, completely indifferent to my motions.”

“True.”

“I must conclude that they are very far away. Since distance makes things look smaller, the stars must be larger than they appear. Could they be the size of the sun or moon, only more distant?”

Even Jolie was impressed. The girl was on the right track.

“If they are, how can they keep pace with the sun?” he asked. “Their perspective should shift with respect to it.”

“Perhaps it does, if we could but see them at the same time as the sun. But the sun itself is too far away to show any shift of perspective as I walk. I am wondering-this may be heretical-whether the sun does travel around us. Could we instead be traveling around it?”

“You have come across another notion of the ancients: that our Earth is not the center of the universe.” She could feel the radiation of his pleasure with her. She had demonstrated a new type of intelligent questioning.

“Does it need to be the center?”

“Not to my mind.”

Now was the time. Kerena reached down and removed the figurine from her body. “I love you.”

He saw it. “You vixen! You are courting me.”

You rogue! How can you pretend surprise?
But of course he couldn’t hear her any more than Kerena could.

“Take me now, while you are in the mood. You know I am.”

As if he hasn’t been in the mood throughout.

He laughed. “How prettily she springs the trap. First the body, then the mind.” He gazed into her eyes, his amusement phasing into desire. “You didn’t even try to conceal your use of the amulet, so I would know your state. I am unable to resist your blandishments.”

“If you take me now, you will love me too.”

“I already do, from the moment you first met my gaze and I felt your power. I remained clear of you at night so as not to be overwhelmed, but now you have done it anyway.”

“Take me,” she repeated hungrily.

“There is one more thing. You do not wish to conceive my baby.”

“I don’t?”

“Not at this time. A child is a lifelong commitment. You are not ready.”

She had to agree. “How do I prevent it?”

“There is a spell you must invoke every month. Now would seem to be an excellent time to learn it.”

“Teach me.”

He taught her. It was merely an utterance, with the force of will behind it. As she spoke it she felt her body shifting in an obscure manner. She was now immune to getting with child, for this month.

“I am ready,” she said.

He did not protest further. “There may be some pain, this first time.”

“I know. It is a pain I want of you.”

Jolie found herself crying. She couldn’t help it. There was just something about conquest that got to her.

Morely kissed Kerena avidly. He had accepted her prior kiss without real response; now he had passion. He stroked her slight breasts, evoking special feeling in them. Then he mounted her and set himself, trying to penetrate her slowly so as to minimize the discomfort.

Vain hope.

“Forgive me,” he gasped. “I can’t wait!”

“Forgiven,” she breathed. Her heart was beating hard.

He drove into her. His member was thicker than the figurine, and not angled the careful way she had done. There was sharp pain, as of flesh tearing. Then she felt the balm of his substance coming into her, and forgot the pain in the joy of her accomplishment. She had won him! She had completed the definitive ordeal of womanhood.

Womanhood is a good deal more than that, girl. But this will do for now.

He subsided, and soon got off her and lay beside her on the velvet cloak. “You made me do it,” he said. “I tried so hard to wait.”

“I wanted your commitment.”

“You always had it.”

“Now I am sure of it.”

“Next time I will make sure you have pleasure too.”

He was as good as his word. Now they were lovers, and she discovered far more physical pleasure in the act than she had ever expected. She had supposed that the woman’s part was merely to hold and satisfy the man, her pleasure deriving mainly from accomplishing his pleasure.

Some men would have it so.

And her fear of darkness was forever abated. The starry night was her friend, enabling her to win her desire. Now she slept in Morely’s embrace, but she could have slept alone without fear.

She tried to return the love figurine to him, but he declined. “Now you know how it works; at some point you may have to recommend it to another woman.”

After that, Kerena got a dress that flared out when she twirled, and revealed curvature when she leaned forward. She danced, at first showing mostly her legs, but as her breasts filled out she showed them too. She had become the temptress, and business increased handsomely. She reveled in her apparent power over men, but she was interested in no man’s touch except Morely’s.

You’ll get over that,
Jolie thought sadly.

One morning they approached a fork in the trail. Morely took the left one, and Kerena accompanied him. He was the one who knew the way, as this was his familiar route.

Jolie came alert. Something was wrong!

In a moment she realized what it was. The realities were diverging. Her own track was no longer congruent with this track; there was a small but definite difference.

In Jolie’s realm, Morely and Kerena took the right fork. Both trails led to the next village, in a similar difference. Why should this matter? Jolie didn’t know, but knew that it had to be corrected. She had to keep the two tracks aligned.

She jumped back to the time just before the fork. She put a thought into Kerena’s mind, emulating her Seeing ability so as to conceal it’s true source.
Take the right fork.

Morely started left. “This way,” Kerena said.

“But I took that last time. I like to vary the route in inconsequential ways.”

“But it’s new to me,” Kerena said firmly. “Humor me.”

He shrugged and did so. After all, they were lovers, inclining him to cater to her whim. They took the right fork. The tracks converged. Jolie breathed a ghostly sign of relief.

In time, well supplied with money, they came to Morely’s private residence. Here he had something no one else was equipped to understand: a mounted tube with glass at either end. When Kerena looked in the small end, she saw the night sky in greater detail than was possible with the naked eye. This was Morely’s greatest secret: a way to look more thoroughly at the stars. She promised not to tell, for ignorant villagers were superstitious about what they did not understand, and might destroy it if they learned of it.

The man’s an early astronomer!

It was a discipline the girl eagerly embraced. Soon she was spending as much time looking at the stars as he was. This, too, pleased him. She was an apt match for him.

Kerena occasionally went to the village to purchase staples; this was part of her duty as apprentice and maidservant. The villagers were readily able to accept her presence, and surely assumed she was being sexually used. Why else would a man keep a pretty girl servant? That didn’t matter; she was as much user as used.