Spectrum of a Forgotten Sun

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."

The boy sat in the lower room, his face peaked, his lips blue as he hunched before a smoking fire. A devoted attendant who had spent the night in the raft, entering the hotel only at dawn.

"I saw the ship land, Earl," he said. "The raft is ready if you want to use it."

"I won't."

"But-" His eyes moved towards the stairs. "I thought that you and the Lady Dephine would be traveling back to the House."

"Before you go anywhere you need to eat." Dumarest went in search of the owner and gave him instructions. To Navalok he said, "I've ordered food to be served. When Dephine comes down have her eat breakfast. Have a good meal now."

He left the boy hugging a steaming mug of tisane, stepping outside and feeling the chill drive of rain. The ship rested on the field, a twin to the one which had brought him to Emijar. The port was open and the ramp was down but there were no signs of anyone loading. The rain could have delayed the discharge of any cargo the ship may have carried and it was too early for workers to be at the warehouses.

"Earl!" Dephine called from the door of the hotel. "Earl, wait for me!"

Dumarest slowed and waited until she joined him. The rain dusted her hair with glittering gems. Together they walked to the trading post where the agent, more than anyone, would have information on the vessel. Early though it was he had risen and was hard at work. A sheaf of papers rested before him on the counter and a man wearing a captain's uniform sat drinking coffee at his side.

"Earl! A moment." Yamamaten finished checking the list. "This seems to be in order, Captain. I've a small consignment of hides, some selected grain and a variety of woven material for you. Little profit, I'm afraid, but it should cover your expenses." His eyes flickered towards Dumarest. "And a passenger if the price is right."

The captain grunted, "Stop your haggling, Telk. You know my price."

"I know what you ask, Captain, but that isn't always what you get. Earl, meet Captain Ying. Captain, your passenger if we can settle a price."

Dumarest met the cold stare of a man who had the eyes of a snake. The face matched, thin, wedge-shaped, the lips little more than a gash. A hard man plying a hard trade.

"So you want to ride with me," he said. "Is Telk holding your money?"

"Yes."

"Then we can settle a price. Be at the field at sunset."

"Sunset!" Dumarest turned as he heard the exclamation. Dephine lifted a hand to her lips and forced a smile. "So soon?"

"Why wait?" Ying gave a frosty smile. "There's no profit in hugging dirt." He added, thinking he knew the reason for her concern, "If it's too soon there's another ship heading this way. It would have been here before me if its generator hadn't broken down. It had to put in at Orteja for repairs. Maybe you could get a passage on that."

"No," said Dumarest. "I'll ride with you, Captain. I'll be at the field at sunset."

A good looking woman, thought the captain as they left the trading post. Any man would be reluctant to leave a woman like that though the reluctance had been on her side, not his. And they had the entire day to do what they wanted though, from the look of her, there was little they had left undone.

He said so and the agent smiled and settled down to discussing the price knowing that agreement was certain but enjoying the opportunity to haggle.

As they left the building Dephine said, "So you meant it, Earl. You're going."

"Yes."

"And if I wanted to come with you?"

He said, "You have until sunset to arrange it. I can't pay for your passage. I haven't any money."

"Then how-" She broke off. "Of course, Galbrene's personal jewelry. I should have known." Halting she turned to look at him, tilting back her head, the gesture revealing the long column of her throat. The rising sun caught her hair and turned it into lambent copper; a halo graced with dying rainbows from the droplets of rain still clinging to the strands. "Earl!"

She was lovely and she knew it. A superbly built woman with a face matching her nature. One who would be at the side of the man of her choice no matter where he might choose to go.

Dumarest said, flatly, "Dephine, I have to go."

"To search for your world," she said, fiercely. "To risk your life a thousand times in order to chase a legend. All right, Earl, Earth exists, I won't argue, but even if you find it will you have found more than you're throwing away at this moment?"

"I don't know."

"But you must look." Smiling she shook her head, a mother gently chiding a child, a wife, the eccentricities of her man. "I'm not good at saying goodbye, Earl. Even now I can't quite believe that you are going to leave me. It doesn't seem possible that we shall never see each other again. But one thing before you go. Please."

He could afford to be patient. "What?"

"Let us have a picnic. One in the place I spoke to you about where there is a lake and a house and the land is kind. It will be like living my dream. A few hours of happiness, Earl. Something for me to remember when you are gone."

Navalok handled the raft, sending it high into the clear air. The rain had ceased shortly after dawn and the sun now blazed with a comforting warmth. The breakfast had been good and his passengers seemed to be in harmony. Food and wine had been packed in a hamper and it promised to be an excellent day.

Looking at the youth Dephine said, "Return in a few years, Earl, and maybe you'll see a boy you'll recognize. One who will look like you and whom I will teach never to be afraid."

"Are you telling me you're pregnant?"

"Would you believe me if I did?" She smiled at him, her eyes enigmatic. "And could you ever be sure that I wasn't telling the truth?" Then, before he could answer, she leaned forward and said, "To the right, Navalok, through that pass and then to the left. The house is in a hollow about a mile beyond."

It sat like a gem in an emerald surrounding, a place of faceted stone and a gabled roof with upswept eaves and windows which looked like smiling eyes. The lake was a mirror edged with reeds, bright with floating blooms. Birds flashed among them like streaks of painted wind and, in the limpid depths, fish sported with an agile grace.

A haven. A place to rest and relax as the sun rose in the sky and the heat increased to still the air and cast a brooding stillness over the area.

Dumarest refused to swim, watching as Dephine dived and swum and climbed from the water to shed droplets in glinting showers as she shook the mane of her hair. Dressed, she sat beside him as Navalok ran with youthful energy beyond the house to inspect the garden of shrubs and scented plants.

"You like it Earl?"

"Yes."

"It could be yours. All of it."

He said, dryly, "And the price?"

"To love me, Earl. Simply that. To love me enough to want to stay."

A temptation, and she had been right, what more could he hope to find than what was here? But the choice was not that easy.

And then, casually, she said, "To love me as much as you once loved Kalin."

Frowning he said, "Kalin? I don't understand."

"No?" She turned to face him, her eyes pools of secret amusement. "I think that you do, Earl, Kalin was very close to you, wasn't she? A woman who loved you so much that she-well, does it matter now? But I know about her, Earl. I know!"

The nightmare in the Vorden when he had lain sick. The delirium. Dumarest remembered that mind-aching time, the face he had seen haloed with light, red hair which had woken a fragment of the past.

She had probed as he had guessed, driven by nothing more perhaps than a woman's curiosity, but from his answers she had learned.

How much?

"You are a man with a past, Earl," she continued smoothly. "Kan Lofoten hinted as much when I asked him how he could trust you. He mentioned information he held about a certain organization who would pay highly to get you into their hands. Very highly, Earl."

"And you are greedy, Dephine. Well, what animal is not?"

He saw the look in her eyes, the recoil as if he had slapped her in the face.

"You're a clever actress," he said, bitterly, "but you followed a trade which taught you how to manipulate men. All the protestations of love, the passion, the promises, the bribes. Even to the extent of hinting that you carry my child in your womb. All for what, Dephine? To make sure that I would remain in one place? That I would be available when the Cyclan came to collect me?"

"You knew! You bastard, you knew!"

"No." He looked at a face which had grown ugly. "I only suspected. Your concern and sudden need of me. To be your champion, you said, but why come to Emijar at all? You hate the place and were far from popular when you left. So why risk your prize? Why else but to make sure I would be at a predetermined place?"

From behind the house Navalok called, his voice high, his words indistinguishable.

"A clever plan, Dephine. You learned of my value to the Cyclan when I was ill. Did you contact them while I was under treatment on Shallah? Did they tell you exactly what to do or did you promise they would find me in your keeping here on Emijar? The latter, I think. You would want to retain control. A mistake. I thank you for it."

"You-"

"I saw your face when the Captain told us of the damaged vessel," said Dumarest. "The one which had to put in for repair. It would have been here yesterday aside from that. Does it carry a cyber? More than one? Your reward? How much did they promise you, Dephine? No matter how much it wasn't enough."

He saw the flicker of her eyes, the change of expression which told him all he needed to know. Even in delirium he had retained the secret of the affinity twin. She didn't know the arrangement of the sequence chain-if she had he would have been left with no choice.

Rising he shouted to the boy. "Navalok-take me back to town."

Dephine said only one word. "Lekhard!"

He came from the interior of the house, smiling, a gun leveled in his hand. A man who glowed with the desire to kill, to wipe out imagined insults in a bath of blood.

He said, tautly, "You took my gun away from me once- now try to do it again."

"Lekhard! No! He must be kept alive!" Dephine rose to approach the man, to stand beside him, one hand caressing his arm. "He means a fortune to us, darling. And nothing you could do to him would be worse than what is waiting. If he tries to move shoot at his legs. Smash his knees and leave him to scream his throat raw with pain, but don't kill him."

"I want to kill him. He has touched you. Looked at you as if you were his own."

"I suffered it for your sake, my dearest. So that we could both be rich. If you can imagine how I felt after such filth had touched me you would wonder how I could do such a thing. And when he spoke of marriage! I, a daughter of the Keturah, married to a thing like that! Later, my dear, we shall laugh about it."

Dumarest didn't look at the woman and paid no attention to what she was saying. All his concentration was on the man. Lekhard was like a bomb balanced on a razor-edge-a word, a look, and he would explode in a burst of insane destruction. Even to warn the woman about his state was to invite a burst of missiles. Bullets which, at this range and with his experience, could not miss.

And then Navalok, answering his summons, came running from the back of the house.

The woman saw him, the man, both turning as he skidded to a halt. A fraction of time in which their attention was taken from Dumarest. A split second in which he acted.

His knee rose to meet the questing hand, the knife lifting as his foot fell, the hand lifting to swing forward with the full power of arm, back and shoulder. A move which Lekhard spotted from the corner of his eye. One which spun him back to face Dumarest his hand lifting, the finger tightening on the trigger. To fall back as the knife slammed into his throat to send blood gushing from his mouth in a crimson stream.

Dying he fired.

The blade had severed his larynx, thrust into the neck to reach the spine, to kill as surely as a bullet in the brain. But his finger had been closing, the muscles tense, the death-convulsion enough to complete the action. The gun roared, flame stabbing from the muzzle, the bullet riding a blast of expanding gases to catch Dephine in the chest to bury itself in her lungs, the heavy ball creating havoc among the delicate tissues.

"Earl!"

Dumarest caught her as she fell, blood running from her mouth, one hand clawing at her waist to fall empty from her holster.

"Earl, I-" She coughed and sprayed his face with blood. "You win, you bastard," she whispered. "You win. You lucky-"

Luck which had ruined the generator of the Cyclan vessel and delayed it long enough for him to escape. Which had led him to say just enough while in delirium for the woman to have seared her flesh in a desperate effort to save his life. Which had caused Navalok to create the distraction which had given him the opportunity to kill.

Now he watched, wide-eyed, as Dumarest gently laid the dead woman on the ground.

"She was beautiful," he said softly. "And she loved you."

Dumarest closed the staring, now empty green eyes.

"Earl?"

"Take me to town, boy. Just take me to town."

To the ship which was waiting. To the suns and stars of the galaxy. To the worlds which teemed in the empty spaces, where it was possible to forget.