Reclamation(17)

Blast him! Blast him headfirst into the Lif marshes and wash him into the Dead Sea! Nameless Powers preserve me! I thought I had him! I thought … Arla’s arms dropped and her eyelids fluttered. I thought he was going to make a stupid mistake and leave me free to wander, just because he’s a Noble facing a Notouch.

She began to laugh. The low, hoarse noise spilled out of her until her shoulders shook and tears trickled out of the corners of her eyes.

“Arla Born of the Black Wall, you are an idiot Notouch! Even the stones will not change that. Give yourself this. Whatever you think of the Teacher he was, Eric Born is not stupid!” She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

But, what is he?

Arla stood up and staggered, catching herself against the wall.

Go to sleep, Arla.

She dragged her poncho off and laid it on the bed. Not trusting her balance anymore, she sat on the bed to undo the laces around her leggings. The leggings themselves peeled off in long strips of cloth that she folded on top of her sandals.

She unbelted her overtunic and dragged it over her shoulders. The scent of herself came off with it.

I hope he has a bath in this place. I reek. She stripped off the knife sheaths and tossed them on the pile of clothing.

One hand strayed to her waist and pressed against the thick, leather belt beneath her undertunic. It chafed. It had been put on her when she first came to her cycles. As much as the hand marks, it said she was old enough to leave the clan as a woman in need of protection and reminding. For a searing instant her skin felt Nail in the Beam’s heavy touch and missed it.

Well, get used to that, she told herself roughly. He’ll surely have divorced you by the time you get back home.

Arla considered taking the time to remove the belt, but a formless notion told her to leave it be. Part of her had been far too relieved to see Eric Born and that part might need reminding, or protection.

She rolled her clothes into her poncho and dropped the bundle beside the bed. She stretched out beneath the blanket and reached up until her hand found the lamp-light square. The room went black. Her mind quickly followed its example.

Behind his cabin door, Eric shucked his clothing and stepped into the cleaner. The sonics shook the dried sweat off his skin, but did nothing to shake the apprehension inside him.

War. Eric’s heart thudded. Over the Skymen. Has it reached the First City? Who’s backing Narroways?

I don’t care, Eric reminded himself fiercely. I DON’T CARE.

Clean, but not relaxed, he pulled on his spare tunic and trousers and sat in front of the cabin’s auxiliary comm terminal. He switched the input setting from keyboard to audio. The screen lit up to show a blank, grey background.

“Ready for input,” said a neuter voice from the speaker.

Eric licked his lips. This was going to be a risk. So far, there hadn’t been any sign of Vitae pursuit, but that didn’t mean they weren’t looking for him. Any transmission was a chance to be spotted and tracked. But running blind, as he was now, was even more dangerous than running scared.

“Wanderer,” he said in the language of the Realm. “This is Teacher Hand. Tell Dorias I need him.”

He settled back to wait. May 16 was light-years away, and getting farther by the second. Eric folded his arms and drummed his fingers against his forearm, trying not to think too much. Dorias had tried to get a warning to him. That meant he knew at least something about what was going on. Anything was better than operating in total ignorance.

At long last, the terminal let out a single, low chime. “Connection made.”

Eric pulled himself up straight. “Dorias?”

The blank screen did not shift, but the terminal’s voice deepened into an approximation of a male baritone. “Eric! What took you so long? Are you on your way here?”

“Dorias, wait a minute, will you?” said Eric. “I’m not on my own and the Vitae have all gone insane. I only got part of your message on Haron Station. What’s going on?”

There was a long stretch of silence. “Eric, where are you?”

“On the U-Kenai,” said Eric with more than a touch of exasperation. “In flight.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” said Dorias seriously. “What contact have you had with the Vitae?”

“They tried to incarcerate me.” Memory added heat to his tone.

“Do they still have the woman?”

Eric stared at the terminal for a moment without answering. “How did you know about her?”

Dorias sighed. “It’s a very long story, Eric. I need to know, do they still have her?”

“No,” said Eric. “She’s with me.”

“Good,” said Dorias in the same serious tone. “We need you both here. She was being taken to May 16 when the Vitae waylaid the ship.”