'Navalok-'
Told me. He had no choice. He is waiting below with the raft.'
'You shouldn't have come. Your reputation-'
'To hell with that!' Long legs carried her over the space between them. 'Do you suppose I care what others think? My life is with you, Earl. With you-not those worshipers of tradition. Couldn't you smell the dust in the House? Feel the cobwebs brush against your face in the passages and halls? The past dominates everything they do, but I live for the present. I long for the future. Our future, my darling. Ours!'
She moved a little and illusion transformed her, the robe she wore gleaming with the whiteness of a shroud, the mane of hair, bleached by the starlight, turning to silver, even the hollow contours of her cheeks taking on an elfin quality, a delicacy which collapsed time and space and made a fragment of the past suddenly real.
Derai!
But she was long gone, long dead, lost on a lonely world, dust now, all her beauty spent. As others were lost and with them their dreams of happiness. As Kalin was lost.
But, always, the search for Earth remained.
Dumarest looked at the knife in his hand. As he put it down Dephine said, flatly, 'You came here to wait for a ship. You want to leave. But why, Earl? Why?'
'This isn't my world, Dephine.'
'And not really mine, now. But we could be happy here. There is a place I know, one I used to visit as a child. There is a lake and a house and we could be alone. Alone and happy, Earl, that I promise you. I would be everything to you-give you all any man could ever need.'
A lamp stood on a low table against the wall. Dumarest lit it and watched as the flame crawled up the wick to fill the room with a warm and yellow light. One which banished the illusions as if there had been ghosts running before the newly risen sun. Auburn hair, not silver; an embroidered robe, not a shroud; a strongly determined face; not the childish weakness of the one he had known. Not Derai and, aside from the slight resemblance of the hair, not Kalin.
'I saved your life, Earl,' said Dephine softly. 'Have you forgotten that?'
'No.'
'And you owe me something. There are cultures in which once a man admits to this his life is no longer his. It belongs to the one who has saved it.'
'And there are others which holds that if a man saves the life of another he is responsible for whatever that man later does.' Dumarest shrugged. 'Take your pick, Dephine, which do you choose?'
'Neither-and don't make me feel so ashamed, Earl. Do you think it easy for me to plead? I am a Keturah and we have our pride. But I need you. I can't let you go. You just can't walk away and leave me.' Her voice grew a little ragged. 'You spoke of reputation-well, consider it. Don't shame me before my Family. They think we plan to get married. At least go through the ceremony and give me the respect they hold so important. What would it matter to you? A few days, a couple of weeks at the most Earl, would it be so hard?'
She stepped close before he could answer, her arms circling his neck, the warmth of her body a fever beneath her clothing.
'Please, darling.' Her voice was a seductive murmur, music to enhance the scent of her hair, the perfume of her flesh. 'You are too kind to be so cruel as to leave me so soon. Give me a little time and then, if you want, we can leave together. There will be money and we can travel in luxury. You and I as one, darling, together for as long as you want. For as long as you need me. And you do need me, Earl. You need me as I need you. My love! Oh, my love!'
Chapter Sixteen
Dawn broke with a light wind and gusting ram, chill drops which clung to the window and dressed the panes with pearls. Dumarest rose and looked down at the sleeping woman. Sprawled on the bed, her hair spread in an auburn cloud on the pillow, the long, lissom lines of her figure relaxed in satiation, she looked older than when awake and dressed. A maturity which had little to do with the passage of years. More than time had impressed the tiny mesh of lines at the corner of each eye, the slight pucker of flesh running from nose to mouth, the hardness of the jaw and brows.
Then her eyes opened and, suddenly, the face was no longer a bitter mask but that of a vibrant and lovely woman.
'Earl!' She stretched, arching her body, hands lifted, nails gleaming in the early morning light. 'I had such pleasant dreams. We were married and we had a child, a son who looked just like you. We'd gone on a picnic and an animal came towards us and we all rode on its back into a field full of tall grass and wonderful flowers. Do dreams mean anything, darling? I knew a woman once who swore they did. To her a bad dream meant a bad day and when she had one she'd write it all down on a piece of paper covered with inscribed charms and burn it. She'd do that before receiving-well, before starting her day.'
'And did it work?'
'Who knows? She was young and to the young all things are forgiven.' She stretched again and he could see the neat row of bone where her rib-cage showed beneath the taut skin. Ridges broken only by the mounds of her breasts. A lithe figure, one suited to hardship, but one he was sure which had been cosseted in youth. 'Did you dream, Earl?'
'A little.' A lie, he had lain wakeful through the night.
'Nice dreams?'
'Until they were broken. A ship landed an hour before dawn.'
'A ship?' For a moment she stared blankly at him and then, abruptly, surged upright. 'A ship? From where?'
'I don't know,' he said patiently. 'I haven't been out yet. All I know is that a ship landed and is now standing on the field. And what does it matter where it came from?'
'As long as it will take you away from Emijar?'
'Yes.'
'You say that!' Her eyes widened to show a rim of white around each his. 'After what we've been to each other! What you promised! Earl, I love you. You can't leave me now. You can't. Not after last night.'
A woman's illogic, they had been lovers since leaving Shallah-why should the present incident carry such importance?
He said, quietly, 'I'm not going to argue with you, Dephine. We both know what I promised. Anyway, why be upset? All I want to do is to take a look at the ship.'
'Is that why you're up and dressed? Earl! You can't leave me! I won't let you!'
He backed as she lunged towards him, feeling the touch and scrape of her metal nails on his face, the impact too light to have broken the skin. His own hand lifted, came down to slap her cheek.
'Keep those damned nails to yourself! I warned you what I'd do if you used them against me again!'
'Earl, I'm sorry!' Tears filled her eyes, falling as she turned to splash against her naked thighs. 'I couldn't help it. It's just that the very thought of losing you makes me desperate. Please try to understand. I'm in love with you. For God's sake, man, don't you realize what that means?'
Sweetness and pain, the ineffable joy of affection and the haunting fear of loss. The vulnerability of total surrender. The willing discarding of all defenses and the embracing of the unknown. How easy to hurt a creature who loves. A word, a sneer, a curt gesture, a momentary indifference. How easy to suffer anguish.
How quickly to lose the paradise of the mind and senses.
He said, thickly, 'Yes, Dephine, I know what it means.'
'Then you forgive me?'
'I forgive you. Get up and get dressed and join me below. If I'm not there wait for me.'
'You'll wait for me? You promise?'
'The ship won't be leaving yet,' he reminded her. 'And if Navalok's still waiting he'll be hungry.'
* * * * *
