FEVER!

A Second Generation Story of Uhr by
David Bruce Bozarth

Fever! is the 12th novel in Bozarth's World of Transits, an original series set on a distant planet of multi-hued humans whose cultures are crossing over from an Industrial Age technology into High Tech—and the associated growth pains thereof. Life on Uhr has always been complicated, but was never more complicated than when the interaction—and sometimes interference—of Earther Transits is involved. Fever! relates events in the life of Princess Rachelle, a daughter of the Earther King. This novel stands on its own. You need not read the prior 11 novels to experience the culture, crisis, grief, love, and hope of these very interesting characters! An adventure romance tale of a different kind! Edited (and condensed) by the author expressly for publication on the Internet.

1.

Thirteen years ago I came to live in this big house with my sister and Tasien, her Chosen. Through the years Elispeth and I planted most of the colorful and fragrant gardens about the main building. We spent many happy hours there, especially Spring and Summer, or when she was pregnant, like now. But this, her fifth pregnancy, was shadowed by uneasiness, for there was a terror on the land which touched even us, here on the quiet, distant Heights above Gizen.

The sweet fragrance of gernica blossoms competed with the stench of fear and uncertainty. The Fever raged everywhere on Uhr. Doctors Beran and Carol ku Greytok called it Transit Influenza, a mysterious disease bringing death and despair to hundreds of thousands world wide. But there were those, like my older sister Elispeth, who could find joy even in the most desperate of times.

Elispeth was glad to be out of bed and into the garden and sunshine. Our walks grew shorter as she neared her term, but, except for inclement weather, we never neglected them. However, I came to enjoy them less; since I, like millions of others on Uhr, dreaded any possible contact with the insidious disease brought to our world by Earther Transits; those multi-hued people arriving from nothingness for uncounted centuries.

There is no explanation why certain Earthers make Transit, or why so many of them are mentally incapacitated; biologically functional but unable to learn more than the most simple of tasks. Some historians claim their vigorous blood line may have preserved our race in prehistoric times, preventing our extinction, but other scholars consider this speculative. Who can say? Even I, a daughter of the most famous of all Earther Transits, have no opinion in this matter.

Not all Transits are mentally deficient. My father says this may be due to an individual's ability to accept an impossible rebirth on an alien world populated by humans with bluish skin. He survived the unknown cosmic mechanism that transports Earthers about to die violent and undesired deaths; though he admits to no memory of the Transit itself. In any event, some Transits are Sane, like my dovenja, Simon Jules Ward, King of Zea, Dovenja of Uhrian Invention, Protector of Freedoms, Arenka'il ku Uhr.

Elispeth and I, and our brothers John and Tresal, have a dual heritage, Zeain and American. We speak two languages, the single common Uhrian tongue and English, one of the many Earther tongues transplanted to Uhr. Our skin is lighter than most for our father is white, with straight brown hair, wiry build and, in this daughter's opinion, very handsome.

Elispeth got her beauty from dovenja and rovenja. Our real mother is a dusky woman of slim perfection, with skin of a deep indigo that shines with an inner light. Elispeth is darker than I and there are times I have envied her smooth coloration. I am pale in comparison, a light violet-hue with green eyes (none of the others in my family have eyes of that color though father says his rovenja's eyes were green), dark-brown hair which shows reddish highlights under bright illumination, small-breasted, too thin, and clumsy.

Elispeth is tall and supple-limbed, and she inherited our Pleasure Trained rovenja's grace where I received none. Even when Elispeth is bloated with child she moves with a fluidity that takes your breath away. Her lips are sweetly formed and presented to best advantage when she smiles, which is frequently because she loves to laugh. Like John and Tresal, our older brothers and the three of them born at a triple birth, Elispeth has dark, lustrous hair, blue eyes and an uncommon elegance. Unlike John and Tresal, however, Elispeth is less adventurous, having accomplished her smaller ambitions early in life. Elispeth's family is all my kyangan'le desires, and I am part of it.

Elispeth Chose her mate long before John and Tresal, moving from the palace when Tasien located a large mansion on the Heights to house his growing business as master instrument maker and craftsman of wood. Tasien, too, is a part of the royal family, though not by blood.

When Simon Jules Ward ascended the Zeain throne at the close of the Great War, many demands were made upon him to protect the war-shattered nation from outside aggression, to rebuild the economy, and provide justice in a land which suffered long under a harsh and brutal regime. I was not yet born and my siblings were only infants. Our mother, Vella, was hard put to care for them and Queen Marsei's child Don. At that time she was, and still remains, a slave in Simon Jules Ward's household.

To ease Vella's burden, and to provide his children with the cultural heritage of his adopted people, father took in three war orphans: Rampart, Joysan and Tasien. They lived in the palace with all the privileges of his own children, playing with them, caring for them, teaching traditions by example, totally unaware of the service they provided. They were given the same love and advantages and in time each brought honor to the House of Ward.

By the time I was born Rampart, Joysan and Tasien were very much a part of the family. I was more than seven years old before I learned the three were not my blood-kin. That changed nothing about my feelings towards them. I loved them, Tasien most of all. I rarely revealed my emotions, though—for I am not like the others, being rather plain and ungifted in most respects and crippled.

I suppose my bitterness with life stems from the deformity which has been mine since birth. My right leg was twisted and useless and by the time I was sixteen I'd silently suffered through twelve operations meant to correct the defect. I could now walk, true, but my leg was a mass of hideous scars kept hidden beneath the long dresses I habitually wore. The leg was bowed out, making it two inches shorter than the other and I walked with a queer rolling gait that made me uncomfortable under the eyes of strangers.

When Elispeth begged me to come stay with her during the birth of her first child, I welcomed the opportunity to leave the palace with its bustle of officials and servants, visitors and delegations. My mothers—Marsei legitimized all of Vella's children at birth, claiming them as her own and was as much our mother as Vella—thought the stay with Elispeth would do me good. They were happy for me and glad Elispeth would not be alone in that big house on the Heights. They never expected I would never return, nor was Joysan happy with my going.

"You're committing emotional suicide," Joysan, my nearest and dearest friend told me thirteen years ago on the night I packed to leave the palace. "You still love Tasien and he can never be yours, Rachelle. Why torture yourself living in the same house with him?"

Only Joysan knew of my inner pain and frustrations regarding my silent affection for Tasien. It always embarrassed me when she reminded me of Elispeth's Choosing and Tasien's Acceptance.

"Elispeth needs me, Joysan."

"But you'll be making yourself miserable!"

"I never would have Petitioned him," I said, continuing to pack.

"Because you're crippled?" Joysan almost laughed as she lifted her skirt to remind me that she had only one leg. The other was lost during the final months of the Great War. She was nine then, soon to be brought into our house as a companion for my older siblings. She, more than John, Tresal, Elispeth, Rampart or Tasien, understood how I felt about my deformity. We were much closer than the others because we shared something in common.

Or did we? Joysan Chose Rampart when she was of age and they left the palace to start a family of their own. Elispeth Chose Tasien, and John and Tresal were hardly around, seeking adventures in school or later in the military and I—I remained home. Most of that time I was bed ridden, recovering from operations to correct major defects in my leg bones, but I missed them all, Tasien above all others.

"What are you thinking about, Rachelle? There's such a dark pout on your face!" Elispeth's arm tightened on mine.

Caught daydreaming, I was embarrassed. "Nothing—you know me. I worry about everything."

"The Fever again?" She gently chided me, using that lovely contralto of hers.

"What else?" I offered a determined smile. "I spoke with Hance Sadis on the phone this morning. He says the travel restrictions between cities and on foreign trade seem to have no effect slowing the spread of Fever. He was worried about us."

"He worries about all of us like he was our own dovenja, Rachelle. You should know that by now. Hance sees shadows in everything, that's why he's head of the National Security Service. Do you mind if we sit down for a little while?"

"Of course, teela," I joined her on the bench Tasien hand-carved for the garden years ago. "Are you getting tired?"

"I am," she admitted, "though you'd think I'd be used to this by now." She laughed with pride and affection as she looked to her hands clasped possessively over her swollen abdomen. She giggled like a little girl. "My fifth child—Herza has well blessed this house!"

"It is a blessing," I agreed, "but to come at such a time—"

Elispeth touched my cheek, her faint smile so reassuring. "We're too far away for the Fever to reach us here, Rachelle. We'll be just fine."

"I'd like to believe that, Elispeth, I truly would, but Hance thinks there's a real danger."

"Here in the Heights? I think not. Father's stopped all the traffic between cities until the Greytoks can find a cure."

"That's the other thing Hance told me. According to him the good doctors are no closer to a solution than they were five months ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Elispeth sighed. "The radio is so depressing. We hear nothing good, just the growing number of persons ill or dead. Do you know what I heard at lunch? Morgan's Empire actually fired upon a Tascarian freighter bringing food and medical supplies to them! I can't imagine such pain and fear!"

"You weren't brought up with fear, darling. Neither was I—"

No, dear Elispeth, you know nothing of fear, or even pain...

I can't remember a single day of my life I have not endured pain. Pain is my trusted and constant companion. I learned pain of the body early in life, but there were other pains, pains of the heart which cause me the greatest suffering.

I experienced little of the close relationship between John, Tresal, and Elispeth with Rampart, Joysan and Tasien. I was kept to bed under the constant attention of doctors who tried not to promise too much and, because of my condition, my brothers and sisters were urged to be decorous around me when all I wanted was to run and tumble with them. As they grew older and discovered other interests they moved on and I saw little of them.

Joysan, though, was with me from the first. She was kind-hearted and wise beyond her years (only eleven more than mine) and, like my father, allowed me my independence unless I asked for help. I fondly remember playing with her as a young child. Joysan would impishly remove her artificial leg and we'd be "equals" in our little contests and games—daring each other to greater efforts.

But as Joysan matured she discovered love, and she loved Rampart. I was fourteen when I stood as her witness at the Rites of Choosing. That was a special day in my memory for Doctor Beran ku Greytok had developed a new prosthesis that fit Joysan very well and I was able stand on my own two legs for the first time without crutches. Not long after Joysan and Rampart signed the Great Book in the Gizen Temple of Komos and Herza they moved from the palace to the Heights. Joysan, however, remained a constant visitor to me and the depth of our friendship became truly evident when she named her daughter "Rachelle" in my honor.

Joysan knew my deepest secrets and knew them because she never revealed them to anyone, not even Rampart. Since we were so close, it wasn't difficult for her to discover my love for Tasien. She also sympathized with my heartbreak when Elispeth Petitioned Tasien and he Accepted.

"Rachelle?" I felt Elispeth tugging at my sleeve. "Is something the matter? You look so strange."

I cleared my thoughts of the unalterable past and smiled warmly at Elispeth. "I was just thinking about the first time I came here. You were pregnant with Densil and now we have Olexa, Vaughn, Teri, and this little one," I placed my hand over hers which were still resting over the unborn child.

Elispeth smiled and drew me to her breast. "I don't know what Tasien and I would have done without you."

I felt a flush creeping over my features and smiled with embarrassment. "You would have done quite well, Elispeth. You're a very loving and wonderful mother to the children."

"And so are you, teela," Elispeth kissed me. "Have I told you I love you?"

"You have—" I laughed, basking in her generous warmth "—and have I told you we should be getting back to the house? You know how Teri squalls if his dinner is late."

"When Tasien gets back," she said positively, "I'll have him talk to that child..." The words brought a frown to my sister's lovely face. She clutched at my hand, showing the fear she so bravely hid from the children. "I hope he's well, Rachelle. The Fever is so much worse overseas. They say all shipping has ceased from Secoundous to Fomos. How will Tasien get home?"

"Hance is making every effort to locate him," I tried to reassure her. "He and Chesar Brondle are organizing overseas transportation for Zeain citizens during this emergency. You trust Hance, don't you? I do—He said Tasien will be home before we could start worrying."

"It's a little late for that," Elispeth surprised herself with the joke.

I helped her to her feet. Then, supporting her with an arm about her waist, we took the well-tended path with care, climbing a gentle slope to reach the mansion's entrance.

I made sure Elispeth was comfortably in bed before going downstairs to the kitchen. Densil was besieged by his two younger brothers. Their sister, Olexa, looked on with tight-lipped disgust as Densil defended the pantry from Vaughn's predatory ambitions. I came to his aid by picking the five year old up—giving the child a hard stare then a long hug. I told Densil they could have one yellow fruit apiece and that was all until dinner.

"Yes, karovenja Rachelle." Densil glared at Vaughn, who was laughing with his triumph, holding out his hand for the succulent fruit.

"Vaughn—" I said. When the child looked in my direction I arched my eyebrow, wagging my finger. "It's your turn to help with the dishes tonight." When Densil chuckled, I gave him the same warning. "You want to help, too?"

"No, milady!" Densil's face became sober. "Come Vaughn—Teri—Let's eat outside and not make a mess..."

I held my smile until all three were out of view. Densil could be so good with the younger ones when he wanted, but at times he was so pompous.

Olexa stood leaning with her back to the counter, arms crossed beneath her budding breasts. She is barely a year younger than Densil, who was twelve this summer, but one could never tell that by her face. She had the expression of a old, perpetually-bitter woman. It was no small wonder, considering the oft-times callous treatment she received from Tasien.

In spite of the feelings I have for Tasien, there are certain traits of his character which puzzled or angered me. His harsh demands on Olexa, whose only fault it seems was being born a girl instead of a boy, concerned me. I once tried to talk with her father, but was told in no uncertain terms that it was none of my affair. So I made every effort to avoid disagreements with Tasien while aiding my niece when I could.

"What's the matter, Olexa? You look as if the giva just ate your best friend."

"He might as well have," she sniffed back an angry tear.

I went to the pantry and began gathering the items I intended to prepare for dinner. "Come give me a hand and tell me all about it."

"I can't," she said, helping me without argument, thus I knew she wouldn't speak about it, whatever "it" was. "I'm not very hungry, karovenja. Don't fix much for me."

"You're hungry, Olexa, you just don't know it." We stood at the sink washing zuri tubers. I looked out the window towards the rear of the ten acre grounds and caught a brief glimpse of the young boy whose family owned property on the other side of the hedge border. I sensed Olexa's ill-humor was caused by her desire to be with the boy, but she was afraid to disobey her father's strict rules concerning young men.

"I think it would be nice if we had gernica blossoms on the table this evening, Olexa. Would you pick some for me?"

"I suppose so," she replied without enthusiasm.

"I think the ones down by the hedge behind the workshop are the prettiest. Don't be gone more than thirty minutes..."

Olexa's head jerked up, her eyes on mine. I saw her trying to read my expression which I carefully kept non-committal. "Dovenja doesn't like for me to go there," she stated.

"He shouldn't mind since you're picking flowers for me. And besides," I added the obvious, "he's not here. Just don't be gone too long."

I finally had to reach out with a damp hand and touch the side of her wary face before she responded to my smile. "I was your age once—" I told her.

Olexa grinned hugely, embracing me gratefully then running from the kitchen. I watched her thin, boyish figure racing across the tall grass, arms flying, hair streaming back from her head. I imagined laughter on her lips as she turned the corner of the workshop and disappeared from view.

Olexa was a good girl, starved for the affection her father denied her and Elispeth was unable to give at this time. What Tasien didn't know wouldn't hurt her. With a nod of smug satisfaction, I finished peeling the zuri and put it on to boil.

The utsma was already in the oven, filling the kitchen with a delightful aroma. When Teri waddled in, face and hands covered with sticky fruit pulp, I wished my ruined leg would allow me to kneel easily. Children are less troublesome when they're standing on their own two feet where, if they slip from your grasp, they don't have too far to fall. I had to lift Teri to the counter to wash his face and hands.

"You make such a mess of things, Teri," I scolded the squirming child with a tender laugh. "When are you going to learn to be more careful?"

"Taste good!" the three year old announced as if that were all the explanation needed to justify the juice stains and fruit pulp on his tunic. I cleaned a large enough spot on his left cheek to take my kiss. He put his arms about my neck and kissed me back. "Play gitar after dinner? Please?"

"I'll see, you little imp." I put him to the floor and bent low to kiss his forehead. "Try to stay clean for dinner."

"If you play gitar I won't get dirty."

His promise was delivered with such sincerity that I nodded, knowing full well he'd be just as mussed when the plates were set. I watched him climb into a chair at the large dining table, but when I next looked for him the chair, as I expected, was empty. I was of half a mind to refuse his request, just to teach Teri a lesson, but knew I didn't have the heart to deny him.

I enjoyed playing the six-stringed Earther instrument for the children. I loved my music and I suppose it was the only love I could truly call my own. When I was a little girl, unable to run and play with my brothers and sister, father asked Tasien to make me a gitar. He was still a student of Master Lin Donalson at the time, learning how to craft both Uhrian and Earther musical instruments. Tasien took dovenja's commission with all seriousness, carefully taking measurements and testing woods then finally delivering a beautifully made little gitar.

Father chuckled when Tasien presented the instrument to me on my eighth Naming Day. I remember his crinkle-eyed grin as he rested his hand on Tasien's shoulder. "Now teach her how to play..."

"Me?" Tasien's eyes grew round. "I'm not very good, sir. Let Rampart teach her. He's Master Donalson's best student..."

So it was that my first lessons on the instrument were from Tasien. I wanted to thank my father, not just for the gitar, but for making it possible to spend time with the boy I loved. I couldn't say that, of course because Tasien wasn't interested in me that way and it was too embarrassing to admit my feelings. However, when I was sixteen and Elispeth eighteen, she Chose Tasien and—

"You're not concentrating on dinner, Rachelle," I admonished myself, putting aside old pains and regrets. "You're about to burn the utsma!"

I was thankful of one thing: today was the workers' day off. We usually fixed a mid-day meal for them and had a light repast at the dinner hour since some of them lived quite far from the shop where they copied Tasien's designs or worked under his direct supervision. Though it was Rest Day I seemed to have as little time for cooking as I did under those circumstances. I decided I was too strained, too nervous about the baby and Elispeth—and the Fever that struck the old, the infirm, the very young, and pregnant women.

I needed help...

Three years ago, when Teri was just an infant and Elispeth remained abed for a longer time than usual, I went to Joysan and begged her assistance.

"What makes you think I can help, Rachelle?" Joysan shook her head. "The only way I can help you is to come pack your bags and get you out of that house."

"I don't want that kind of help, Joysan," I was very angry with her. Though at that time I had lived with Elispeth and Tasien for ten years she still thought I was foolish to stay. "If you can't be objective then we have nothing to discuss."

"You're the one who came to my house seeking help, Rachelle, not the other way around. If you want to talk, I'll listen—I always have, teela."

Joysan did listen to me and I loved her for that. Whenever I visited her house, however, my dearest friend never failed to mention something about my leaving Elispeth and Tasien.

How could I tell her I couldn't? Even if I didn't still love Tasien I could never leave because of the children. My sister may have borne them but every child was as much mine as hers and the children felt as strongly for me as they did for their rovenja.

Knowing this made me realize the great love between my parents, all three of them. I never doubted the love my mother has for her master and his Chosen, nor Marsei's love for Vella. One reason my real mother remains a slave is because Marsei and Simon refuse to give her up. As a slave she is publicly accepted in the household, but living as a free woman with them would be scandalous.

Vella was a native Zeain, of course, but she was also a Pleasure Trained slave. For centuries, long before my father became king and abolished slavery in Zea, many thousands of women were trained by calculating and clever slavers who used mind-altering drugs, psychological manipulation and fear of pain to remove emotional inhibitions and destroy personal initiatives—except for those traits which made a slave desirable. The slavers' training made it impossible for a slave to ever be disobedient and only the most physically attractive slaves were given Pleasure Training, that highest of all levels. My mother is a Pleasure Slave.

After the great war a tremendous effort by King Ward's new government began to de-train the poor slaves kept in the Pleasure Gardens in nearly every major city of Zea; however, some slaves failed to respond successfully to the treatment. Thus, by my father's command and his direct patronage, these unfortunate slaves continued in their trained functions under his protection, for if they were not permitted to perform they suffered anxiety, many becoming suicidal or self-destructive. They were carried as "imperial properties" and were well cared for. After their eventual deaths of old age there would be no more Pleasure Slaves in Zea.

When I was very young, I was embittered to learn Vella was a Pleasure slave. Even though Vella was greatly loved by Marsei and Simon it galled me to dream that if Vella had been free when she met dovenja, she would be queen instead of the beautiful Lavecan princess I could not help loving. I thought it was terrible that Vella failed to respond to de-training—all attempts at which occurred before I was born. But as I grew older, I saw the genuine happiness shared between my three parents and came to accept it as natural that I had two wonderful mothers and one loving father.

My real mother, Vella, had the singular distinction of being the last legal slave in Zea. Father couldn't free her without causing embarrassment to himself, Vella and Marsei, or the people of Zea. As long as she was a slave she could warm his bed and give him more children if Herza so blessed them, and Marsei heartily approved. (She often asked Vella to join their bed and never seemed jealous if she wasn't invited, though she usually was. I wasn't supposed to know this, but little girls have their ways of learning what they want to know.) Yes, my family was happy. Why couldn't I be happy as well? I had my children. I had Elispeth.

You don't have Tasien!

I never seriously compared that special relationship between my parents with my relationship with Elispeth and Tasien. There were similarities, of course, but only superficially. The only part that was genuine in all respects was the affection Elispeth and I had for the children of our house. Elispeth is a devoted mother, none could fault her care or love, but she also had obligations in Tasien's business. She helped with sales and orders, entertainment of prospective buyers; even in the designing of custom furniture which was included among Tasien's many woodworking talents.

Elispeth did the weekly marketing and took the children to school. I rarely drove because of my deformity. Some people thought it odd that I, a king's daughter, cheerfully performed labor that, until twenty-three years ago, was done by slaves. Of course there were plenty of people eager to work for a wage, but I enjoyed keeping house for my sister. And, truth be known, Tasien was, in many ways, a frugal man. Perhaps that was why his work commanded such high value: he compromised on nothing, not even his own daughter's happiness.

I found it difficult to understand Tasien's coolness towards Olexa. Her quiet rebellion in response to his unyielding manner was prompted by her desperate need to please her father. She bravely endured frustration in the face of constant rebuffs of her affection. It was difficult for me to understand Tasien's attitude toward Olexa since I never had to work too hard pleasing my father. Simon Jules Ward had my love and respect from the moment I opened my eyes on the world.

My dovenja is king of the greatest, most scientifically advanced, most powerful nation on Uhr. He commands the mightiest military force for peace and is loved by 300,000,000 Zeains. He is respected world wide by millions more, but he is, and always will be, my father. He urged me to do for myself, offering his help only when I asked. He treated me no differently than the rest of his children—my backside felt the force of his strong hand as often as John or Tresal or Don. Elispeth never seemed to need that kind of discipline but the one thing I knew about my father was that he loved me as much as he loved the others.

As a child there were times I fell when walking the palace garden with my father after dinner but he never offered assistance unless I asked. My dovenja taught me well: "If you fall down, girl, you better be prepared to pick yourself up."

I learned my few strengths from my father. My mothers, both real and foster, taught me love. Their hearts embraced us all—their natural children, the adopted, and the war orphans brought into the home. Marsei couldn't have any more children after Don, but she had all the children she could love and her heart seemed to have no limit to affection. She doted on Rampart and Joysan's little Rachelle as much as she did with any of Elispeth's brood. Simon and Vella often accused her of spoiling us terribly, though they were just as guilty in that respect. I suppose that was why I found it so easy to allow Olexa to have her little time away from the house—

I put the salad on the table and started making a tray for Elispeth. This late in her term we usually dined together in her room while Tasien or Densil monitored the table downstairs. I wanted to shake the dark mood of my thoughts, but there was no one to talk with, no one to share my inner despair. I almost heaved a sigh of relief when the phone rang.

Densil was talking into the handset when I entered the hallway. "It's ahdovenja," he said, handing me the phone. Teri, tugging on my dress, wanted to talk to his grandfather but Densil spared me the necessity of saying 'no' by the simple expedient of tucking his brother under his arm and carrying him to the kitchen. As he went down the hall Densil shouted for Vaughn to hurry up and come to the table.

I concealed my smile by turning to the wall and saying hello to father. "How did you know I needed to talk to you?" I asked.

"I'd be damn surprised if you didn't," he teased. "How's my prettiest girl?"

"You always were such a lovable liar, dovenja. How's the family?"

"Your mothers are giving me hell, as usual. Got a letter from Don this morning. Seems he's doing well as our ambassador to Cert. Sends his love. Vella doesn't like the idea of him and Yanis being so far away but that's the way of diplomacy. At least he's keeping up with his electronics studies. He asked for the next series of assignments."

"You think he still wants to come to work for you instead of grooming for the throne?"

"I don't know, teela. Vella doesn't like the idea of him working with such dangerous machines," he chuckled. "Marsei sees no value in the next king's knowledge of electronics and physics."

"What do you think?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what I told Don before I sent him and his new Chosen to Cert: this king-shipping is a pretty chancy thing. It's good to have a second trade. Just in case."

"Oh? And what's yours?"

"That's easy," he laughed. "I dig a mean ditch and have been known to put in some time as a fisherman. Sure would hate to lose this drafty old house, though. I like the elbow room."

"I sure hope you're just teasing and not preparing me for some bad news," I said, well aware there were few men on Uhr who were as intellectually complete as my father. He was, in fact, responsible for the current technological revolution sweeping through the industrialized countries. I know for a fact he authored more than seventy percent of the textbooks used in our national school system—because he tested them on his children first. Some of the texts got pretty tough. I never got as far as Tasien did in algebra and nowhere near to the calculus and tensor mechanics John, Tresal and Don seemed to absorb like sponges.

"Of course I'm teasing you, teela. I intend to be king long after Don's an old man. What's the matter, Sugar? You don't sound like yourself. Or do you like being a Gloomy Gus?"

"It's nothing," I lied, but still smiling at dovenja's love of Earther slang. "We're just worried about Tasien and I—well, I'm so afraid something might happen to Elispeth and the baby. We hear nothing but the Fever everywhere."

"You just do like the medical services advise and you'll be fine, Rachelle. You can't get the Fever unless you come in contact with someone who has it or has been around an infectious case."

"We're taking all the precautions we can, dovenja."

"I know you are. How's Elispeth?"

"Ready to burst and get it over with. I think she'd be a lot easier if we knew when Tasien was coming home."

"That's why I called. Hance just told me Tasien and his men have been located."

I felt a wave of relief flood through me that left me weak in the knees. I sat on the chair beside the phone station. "Elispeth will be glad to hear that. Where are they?"

"Stuck in Hosella, I'm afraid. You know how iffy our political relations are with Brandywine's government. Hosella has placed Tasien's ship under quarantine in Valo Bay. I understand they're being treated well, but the Hosella government has declined to release the ship or passengers from the harbor area. Chesar Brondle is contacting Brandywine's people to see about arranging their release. I suspect it might take a Tenday, but no more than that."

"You sure know how to make a girl happy!"

"If that's all it takes then I've been going about things the wrong way for too many years. I have to go, kitten," I liked it when he called me by Earther nicknames—he had so many of them. "I'll call you if I learn anything new. Or you can call me anytime you like just for the hell of it."

"Wait—do you want to talk to Elispeth?"

"You tell her hello for me, teela. I know how she gets when she's pregnant. She'll cry for happiness and I'm such a coward about those things. Love you. Bye."

I felt like singing when I replaced the handset in the cradle. Simon Jules Ward was a busy man but he never failed to find time for his children. That's one reason why I love him so much.

"Your dovenja has been located—" I entered the kitchen, then stopped short. Densil nursed a small scratch on his arm and Vaughn had tears in his eyes. The table was silent. Teri stared wide-eyed at his older brothers. Olexa quietly filled plates with steaming utsma. There was an amused smile on her lips and she seemed determined to ignore whatever disagreement there was between Vaughn and Densil. I decided to follow her lead, especially when I saw the happy shine in her eyes.

"Are you two through?" I asked, looking at the two older boys. When they nodded, I said "Good. Your dovenja is in Hosella. Chesar Brondle should have him home in a week. No more fighting tonight, your rovenja is tired."

I picked up Elispeth's tray and smiled approvingly, for Olexa had not only placed flowers on the table she'd put a wonderfully fragrant toca blossom on her mother's tray. "They're lovely, Olexa. Make sure Vaughn eats all of his salad before he has a fral cake for dessert."

Vaughn started to protest but I silenced him with a single stern glance. He squirmed uncomfortably, then lowered his eyes to the table. "Yes, karovenja."

Elispeth looked pale propped against her pillows, something quite unusual for one with skin as dark and lovely as hers. She didn't have much appetite, even after I told her the good news. She nibbled the utsma, tasted the salad and sniffed the zuri.

"It's not your cooking, dear," she assured me when I asked. "I think I'm having the baby—now."

"What?" I removed the tray from the bed. I placed it on the dresser and came back. "Why didn't you tell me? When did the contractions start?"

"When we were in the garden. I wanted to make sure. You know how many false alarms we've had the last two weeks..."

Suddenly there wasn't any doubt the child was coming, Elispeth's water burst and I shouted for Densil to call the doctor. For a few moments Elispeth and I were very busy, but we were old practiced hands at this sort of thing and she always had such easy births. I was cuddling an adorable infant girl long before the old doctor arrived.

"I can see Elispeth is in good hands," the doctor said, his voice sounding as tired as he looked. He finished his examination and stepped back. "They're both fine, Rachelle."

"I knew that," I giggled, happy and thrilled with the child. "I tried to call you, to tell you not to come, but you'd already left. I'm sorry you made the trip without reason."

"I had reason enough. It never hurts to be safe. Now be sure and keep her in bed with restricted movement for the next few days."

"I won't have any trouble doing that," I said, escorting him downstairs to the parlor. "Elispeth hasn't been sleeping well."

"Oh? Something the matter?"

"Not anymore. She likes to sleep on her stomach and it's been a bit uncomfortable the last few months."

He chuckled, accepting the hot cup of kla Olexa brought him. "Thank you, child. I can use this—"

Olexa beamed shyly before running upstairs to see the baby. I sat beside the old physician, concerned with his fatigued appearance.

"You look like you could use some sleep yourself," I gently admonished.

"I'm not as young as I used to be, Rachelle. I've been making some late calls to the ranches farther up the Heights. A few broken bones here, a bad ser-monte bite, even treated a man who'd drunk too much ma."

He sighed, leaning back on the couch, closing his eyes momentarily. "Thank Herza our problems aren't as bad as those in the city. I wouldn't be much use there, my dear, that's a job for young people who can go the hours. Speaking of which," he smiled ruefully, draining his kla, "I have to run. There's another baby due sometime tonight and it's a long drive."

I took his cup and walked him to the door. I stood on the porch watching the lights of his car until they were blocked by the tall hedges along the main road. My eyes lingered on the orderly gardens Elispeth and I loved so well. In the moonlight they seemed more beautiful than ever. Perhaps I saw them through my happiness for Elispeth's new child, perhaps I welcomed an increased dependency on my services, perhaps I was thinking Tasien would soon be home.

2.

Elispeth gloried in her ability to sleep comfortably and I had no trouble keeping her in bed as promised to the doctor. My biggest problem was keeping the children in hand so mother and child could rest. Teri, the little imp, was in Elispeth's room so often I looked there first when I couldn't find him.

The days stretched to a week, but Elispeth seemed weaker instead of stronger. My uneasiness increased the afternoon we named the infant. As the old traditions held, the child was Named on her tenth day, but little Rovena was cranky and irritable. She refused her mother's breast at bedtime and even Elispeth seemed weary and abstracted. She worried about Rovena though she was unable to concentrate or do for herself. Densil told me this much later in the evening after I prepared dinner for Tasien's workers. He was concerned with Elispeth's unusual behavior and came to me after Olexa and I finished in the kitchen.

I went to Elispeth and found both my sister and her new-born child in a restless, uneasy sleep. I reached out to brush hair from Elispeth's smooth forehead and jerked my hand back in horror. She was so hot! Rovena was even hotter. It was the Fever! I was positive of this, but how had it come to our house?

I called the doctor. He could not come because he was down with the Fever because that "drunk" the doctor treated at the ranch wasn't an inebriated fool. The ranch hand was a new man hired from the south, and it was he who brought the Fever to the Heights.

My heart pounded in my breast and I wanted to scream, to lash out at that mysterious infection which afflicted my sister and niece. I struggled to control my fears before calling father. He was out but sors-rovenja Marsei took the call.

"It's Elispeth and the baby," I said. "I think they have the Fever."

"Dear Herza!" There was a moment of silence on the line then: "We'll be right out, Rachelle. Don't worry, Vella and I will come."

"You better not," I said, though that was the thing I wished most desperately. "You might get infected."

"We'll see, darling. We love you—"

There was an urgency in her voice which I shared. She hung up and I impatiently waited for mother to call back while I bathed Elispeth and Rovena with cold towels; something the news broadcasts suggested to keep the fever down. Densil stood by the bed looking as helpless as I felt. I had to give him something to occupy his mind, to get him out of the room.

"I'm putting you in charge of your brothers and sister, Densil. You have to keep everyone out of this room."

"But that means I can't be here, too." He seemed ready to defy me in his anguish.

"Please don't fight me, Densil. Maybe we can keep the others from getting sick as well. I'm depending on you."

Densil bit his lip and looked down at his mother, so limp and unmoving. "I'll try..."

"I know you will. Thank you, Densil."

"Is she going to—to—" He choked back the words that terrified him, as they terrified me.

"Not if we have anything to say about it!" I promised him. I rinsed the wet towel and wrung it out. I folded it with trembling hands and put it back on Elispeth's forehead.

It seemed an eternity before Marsei called back. "Rachelle, there's a specialist on his way with a nurse. Your father refused to allow Vella or I to come." I could hear a trembling catch in her voice. I could imagine an argument and both of my mothers losing. She had been crying. "We'll come as soon as we can."

"I'm sure he means well," I said, trying to calm her. "I—"

"It's not because of your mother or me, teela. Yurilla is pregnant, too. You know that. He's afraid we might somehow..." Marsei couldn't finish the words but I clearly understood.

"He's right," I said, wishing dovenja was wrong. I wanted Vella and Marsei with me so desperately. I needed their help and it was impossible for them to come. I must have been crying because Marsei told me to stop blubbering.

"Pick yourself up, child!" She hadn't said that to me since I was five. "Our prayers are with you, daughter, and for Elispeth and Rovena. You take care of them and do what the doctor says. The nurse will do most of the work so you can be with the children. How are they taking this?"

"Only Densil and Olexa know. Teri and Vaughn are in bed. Olexa won't talk to me right now so I don't know how she feels, but Densil is very upset."

"You tell him everything will be all right."

"I won't make promises I can't keep, rovenja."

"I know—call me the moment the doctor is through examining them. Your father is anxious to hear what he has to say."

The doctor was a kind-hearted young man fresh out of Greytok's medical school. All of the new graduates tending fever victims were gaining more experience in short weeks and months than most ever gathered in their first two years. The doctor was reeling with fatigue, but he was patient and answered every single question Densil and I asked. He was not very hopeful.

"They both certainly have it, your highness," he reluctantly told us. "The pathology smears are positive. I wish I could say they'll recover quickly, but we just don't have a cure at this time. We can only treat the symptoms as they occur. Do you understand the instructions I've given you regarding isolation and separate food preparation? If you have any doubts about procedure ask the nurse, that's what she's here for. I wish there was more I could do, Princess Rachelle."

The doctor came to visit every afternoon and he remained as frustrated as I. I could see him raging helplessly against this mysterious Transit Influenza. Father said the disease affects the people of Earth less severely but that was no consolation for the physician facing an invisible, deadly enemy without the proper weapons of battle.

Each day Elispeth and Rovena grew worse. As their conditions declined, I became very concerned that Elispeth would fret over the child, who was having difficulty in breathing because of fluids in her tiny lungs. I moved Rovena out of Elispeth's room to prevent her from upsetting my sister, and because it became more obvious that Rovena was not going to make it.

During one of her too infrequent lucid moments Elispeth asked where Rovena was. I told her she was in my room to make the baby more comfortable and easier for me to nurse her. I believe she knew I lied and beneath it all I sensed her forgiveness. She hardly said anything more until the morning I walked in feeling utterly cold and empty.

I had not slept all night. I had helplessly watched tiny Rovena simply stop breathing. The poor thing never made a sound or movement. I had already cried my tears and I had none left.

"Rachelle—" Elispeth's voice was a fragile whisper. I sat on the bed when she begged with her eyes. "Need to talk—while I can—it's not easy holding a thought—"

"Sleep, Elispeth. Don't over-tax yourself."

"I have to!" Elispeth quietly gathered her remaining strength. "You must listen!" Her eyes blazed with an inner fire which had nothing to do with the fever ravaging her body. Her unblinking gaze commanded my attention, making me hear words I was helpless to deny.

"Our children need you now more than ever. When I'm gone, take them from this house. Take them and don't look back."

"I can't do that, Elispeth! They're Tasien's children, too!"

"I know Tasien better than you. I also know you. He'll never love you the way you love him. If you stay in this house he will destroy all of you."

"What are you saying?" I cried. "You act like I'm in love with—"

"Aren't you? You always have been, you may always be in love with Tasien, but it's not Tasien you love, Rachelle." She closed her eyes momentarily. I wanted to run from the room to hide my shame. She knew!

"Elispeth, I—"

"Hush, sister," she pleaded. Her eyes remained closed, but I felt them as surely as if I could see her deep-blue irises. "It's the thought of being in love that's kept you here too long."

"That's silly. You're just tired and imagining things," I stammered.

The head with the sunken cheeks, the hollowed eyes that looked up at me, made a tiny negative gesture. "Try to fool me if you wish, teela, but don't fool yourself. I've known you loved Tasien from the very beginning and I was very cruel to want you to stay. You see, Rachelle, I loved you so much I couldn't let you go. I knew each day was a torment of self-denial for you and I will probably be damned to the Undertable for my selfishness."

I tried to stop Elispeth's words. I wanted to tell her she was wrong. I failed miserably. I was thankful that only she and I were in the room, the nurse was downstairs having breakfast while I sat with Elispeth. There was no witness to my humiliation.

"Why tell me this now, Elispeth?" I no longer denied her statements. "What have I done to make you so angry with me?"

"I'm not angry, Rachelle. I am begging your forgiveness and, more than anything, I want you to care for my children with all the love you have in your brave little heart."

Her face shimmered before me, distorted by my tears. Her voice had a ring of finality and it tortured me. "You know I will. They are my children too!"

"Of course they are! That's why I couldn't send you away. I would have broken your heart by taking Densil and Olexa and Vaughn and Teri and Rovena away from you..."

Her voice faded. She sounded as if she were listening to a roll-call and, when it was completed, her eyes closed. She was very still, her face smooth and at peace for the first time in days. My sudden fear for Elispeth competed with the shock of my unmasking. I took her thin, fever-wasted body in my arms and held her close.

"Elispeth, you can't die! You can't go!" I pleaded, great stomach-wrenching sobs wracking my body. "I can't raise them by myself. I need your help. Elispeth—please? Please help me!"

When I was little and my brothers and sister and our orphan companions played in the palace garden the boys sometimes knocked me off my crutches when they chased each other. If Elispeth was there, she never asked if I wanted help or waited for me to ask. She always put me on my feet and ran away. Now, as I desperately clung to her still form, I knew my kyangan'le had set me right once again. And just like when we were children she'd run away from me, but this time she wasn't coming back. I was still holding Elispeth when the nurse returned to duty.

We couldn't bury her—emergency epidemic laws decreed the cremation of all Fever victims. Marsei and Vella begged Simon to make an exception, but he wouldn't. I know it hurt him terribly to refuse them. We weren't even allowed to go with her body when the hearse came to take Elispeth away. First Rovena, then Elispeth—my world was filled with such grief. But I couldn't give in to it, nor could I display it openly because of the children. They were lost without their mother and I needed to be strong for them.

The nurse left the day after Elispeth died and the children and I were alone at the house. I had advised Tasien's craftsmen against returning to work when we first learned Elispeth was ill, so I didn't have a regular routine to fall back on. There were things which had to be done and, though I hated to do it, the medical services advised the burning of all contaminated linens and a thorough antiseptic scrub of furniture in contact with the victim. I did this while Densil kept an eye on his brothers.

Olexa was hit hardest by the loss of her rovenja. Elispeth's love and gentle ways had made up for the harshness Tasien often displayed toward his daughter. With Elispeth gone I supposed Olexa wondered if I could intervene on her behalf as her mother had. Olexa became reclusive, staying in her room, coming out only for meals. She wouldn't even talk to her grandparents when they telephoned mornings and evenings. When I tried to speak to her Olexa pleaded to be left alone, and I honored her grief. Some people must withdraw from life just a little to be able to deal with death. I would give Olexa some time, but if she brooded too long I'd do something about it. The poor child had to come to terms with Elispeth's passing in her own way if she could.

Vaughn and Teri, Teri most of all because he was so young, didn't understand why their mother wasn't in her room, why she wasn't there for dinner, why her laughter was missing from their lives. Vaughn finally understood, and it was devastating for him. He ran from the house and Densil and I spent two hours searching the grounds before we finally found him hiding under Elispeth's favorite bench in the garden. By then he was too frightened to hide anymore and he clung to me with a desperation that broke my heart.

I went to bed tired each night, weary of the summer heat, the all-consuming grief which overwhelmed me. It was only when I was alone in my room that Elispeth's shocking words haunted me because the children needed so much of me during the day. I wondered if she were right, that Tasien would never love me, that I was only in love with the idea of love. My dreams were confusing, disturbing...

"Karovenja Rachelle, wake up! Please wake up!"

Densil leaned over my bed, shaking my shoulder. I was glad he woke me, I was having nightmares of trying to explain myself to Elispeth—

"What is it, Densil?" I asked. My throat felt raw and it was hard to swallow.

There was panic in his reply. "It's Teri and Vaughn—they were crying. I went to see what was wrong and they're hot. I think—"

"Oh, Herza!" I cried, coming out of bed without thinking. I saw the stunned look on Densil's face as he saw me in the light of the open doorway. I pulled the sheet back over my nude body as he turned away in embarrassment; not from the nudity I was sure. It was the first time he'd seen my maimed leg and it is a hideous sight even to me, and I've lived with it all these years. I pulled my robe from the foot of the bed and quickly covered myself.

"I'm sorry you saw that, Densil." I said. My arms felt heavy trying to put on the robe, but I eventually managed the sleeves and belted the sash.

He tentatively looked over his shoulder, then turned around, head lowered in shame. "It's part of you and I love you." The boy's voice was so solemn and dignified that I clutched him to my breast.

"I love you, too. Let's go see the children."

I should have heard them crying myself. I was so tired from the sleepless hours of watching over Elispeth then putting the house in order. I must have slept like one dead for I had not heard my children crying in the night. It filled me with a terrible guilt.

Densil led the way to the boys' room, turning on the light when we entered. Both Vaughn and Teri were extremely feverish, restlessly writhing on the sweat-drenched bed sheets. Teri had a rasping in his lungs, horribly reminding me of Elispeth's last hours. I lifted Teri's tiny body and held his limp form close.

Turning to Densil I said, "Go downstairs and see if the nurse left any of that medicine. We have to cool them right now. And call the doctor."

I carried Teri to the bath and ran water into the tub. I dipped him in; my heart stopped momentarily, for the child made no sound of discomfort at the abrupt coolness, but I felt the shallow beating of his little heart beneath my hand and breathed a sigh of relief.

I heard Densil on the phone downstairs, but I also heard someone else moving in the hallway. I looked to the door of the bath and saw Olexa bringing Vaughn in her arms. Without a word she knelt at the side of the tub and supported her younger brother in the cold water. I leaned over and kissed her forehead.

"Thank you, Olexa."

The young girl was embarrassed by my show of affection. "I wish the nurse was still here," she said.

"We'll manage until she can come back." I gave Olexa a weak smile, hoping that the rest of my words were truth. "You and I, we'll do fine."

Olexa burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably. "Are they going to die, too, karovenja Rachelle?"

"We won't let them! Do you hear me, Olexa? We won't let them!"

I heard pounding on the stairs as Densil ran up. "Karovenja!" he shouted with excitement. "Karovenja, the Greytoks found a cure!" Densil almost slipped on the tile as he came into the bath with his exciting news. "They found a cure! They can help us!"

"That's good," I said, feeling strangely faint. It was warm in the bath. The only part of me that was cool was my hands supporting Teri in the water and my knees pressed against the thin cloth of my robe on the marble tile. "That's very—"

The next thing I remember is a trembling finger frantically trying to force pills down my throat. I opened my eyes. Densil was holding my head in his lap, tears streaking the dusky blue of his worried face.

"You have to take these!" he pleaded. "You've got the Fever!" He was crying so hard I almost didn't understand him.

"Teri?"

"Olexa put them to bed. Can you walk?" he asked after I swallowed the small tablets. He put the pill vial on the edge of the tub, and cursed when it fell into the water. "Damn!" he cried with anguish. He tugged at me, his hands under my arms as he tried to rise. "Can you get up? Can you walk? I can't leave you here."

Densil was as tall as me, but I weighed more, He had trouble lifting me from the floor. I tried to help, but I felt so weak and dizzy. I heard him calling Olexa in a high-pitched voice and I remember thinking I wanted to tell him to be quiet, he'd wake the children.

My head hurt. My eyes ached in my skull when I tried to focus them and I realized I was in bed. I heard whispers in the dimly-lit room and felt something cold touch my forehead. I reached up and Densil took my hand.

"I didn't mean to drop you, karovenja. Are you all right?"

I touched the bump on my temple and tried to smile reassuringly. Olexa was on the other side of the bed, looking lost and frightened. I wanted to stop their tears. Teri and Vaughn were in bed with me, one on each side.

"I didn't mean to drop you," Densil kept saying.

"I know—" I managed to say. My confusion was clearing though I had trouble thinking. "The doctor?"

"He's coming, karovenja Rachelle! He's coming to give you the medicine! Don't die! Please don't die!"

"I'm not going to die," I told him, completely positive of that fact. It was not my time to join the women at Herza's side of the Great Table. How I knew this I cannot say, but I knew that as surely as I loved the children who were so worried about me. I wanted to say more, but I was so tired, so hot...I passed out, lost in a dark fever-dream.

"...bring me clean sheets, Olexa. Densil, you should have called me earlier..."

I recognized that voice, warm, familiar, filled with concern.

"Yes, Joysan!" Olexa's tears were audible. "Densil—help me?"

I was aware of the children leaving the room, but didn't have the strength to turn my head. I saw Joysan looking down at me, wagging her finger as she used to do when I did something foolish and she had to come get me out of trouble. "I suppose you're going to tell me you didn't even know you were sick."

"I didn't," I tried to smile, happy she was there to scold me. "Joysan—"

"You be quiet and rest. The doctor has seen you. He gave you an injection that should help with the Fever. Don't worry about a thing, Rachelle. I'm going to stay here and look after you and the children."

"Tell me—" I reached out. My grip on Joysan's cool hand was so weak it startled me. "Vaughn and Teri? Are they all right?"

Joysan looked away for a moment, and when she turned back, I saw the moisture in her eyes. "If you were someone else I might try to lie, but I can't lie to you, Rachelle. Teri's dead and Vaughn is very ill. The doctor thinks he'll recover with time and plenty of rest."

I wanted to cry, but I was so dehydrated I couldn't even swallow the dust on my tongue. "Are we alone?" I asked, still gripping her hand. Joysan nodded, sitting on the side of the bed, stroking my hair, fighting her own tears.

"Joysan, I'm so confused—Elispeth knew! She knew all along how I felt about Tasien. She asked my forgiveness for wanting me here with her!"

"I know she loved you, Rachelle."

"We all loved her! How could we not? She was so kind and gentle, so warm, so beautiful...but she knew! Do you know what she asked me to do before she died?" I rushed through the words as Joysan daubed my brow with a cooling cloth. I had to get it out before my courage failed. "She wanted me to take care of her children."

"We all will, Rachelle," Joysan promised.

"You don't understand! She wanted me to take them, to leave the house. She told me Tasien could never love me and that he would destroy us all. Those were her words, Joysan. That he would destroy us! What did she mean? She was giving me a warning, Joysan. Why?"

Joysan frowned uneasily. "Why did she wait to tell you what I've already told you or why she asked you to take the children?"

"I don't care which you answer, I just need one!"

Joysan may have answered, but I didn't hear it. I lost consciousness and when I awoke next, I was in a different bed in an unfamiliar room. I was weak, but the fever was gone. I managed to sit up and pour a glass of water from the pitcher beside the bed. With trembling hands I straightened the night clothes I never wore by choice. Cautiously, using any wall or piece of furniture for support, I staggered to the closed door.

While I didn't recognize the room in the faint pre-dawn light filtering through neatly pleated open weave draperies, I knew the hallway and the little boy sitting near the stair landing. The small child quietly played with stack toys, making very little sound to keep from disturbing the sleep shrouded house. Vaughn turned his head at the sound of my door. His face suddenly beamed as he jumped up to embrace my unsteady legs. I grabbed the door jamb to keep from falling. It wouldn't have mattered if I had, I was so happy to see him looking so well.

"Karovenja Rachelle!" he shouted several times, squeezing with all his strength. He woke the rest of the house. Rampart, Densil and Olexa came running.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Rampart chided me. His strong arms lifted me from the floor. When he turned to take me into the bedroom I pleaded with him.

"I don't want to go back there just yet. Please?"

Joysan, awkwardly hopping towards us on her single whole leg, carried her artificial limb in her right hand. She turned to Densil. "Hold me a minute," she demanded, waiting until he took her by the shoulders. Joysan modestly fumbled beneath her gown, strapping on her prosthesis, then checked the seating of it by giving the leg a thump against the floor.

"Thank you, Densil," Joysan said. She turned to face me with a stern look that suffered severely because of her beaming smile. "Rachelle, you could have at least had the decency to let us know you were getting up. You scared us silly!"

"I wasn't the one shouting in the hallway," I reminded her. "You can put me down, Rampart."

He tossed me gently in his strong arms, shaking his head. "I like holding you. Where to, my princess?"

Joysan answered for me, taking charge. "We'll have breakfast in the garden and it's your turn to cook, Rampart. Will you take Rachelle downstairs while I get her robe?"

Rampart started down the steps, laughing as he carried my light weight. "I'll poison the lot of you!"

"We'll take our chances!" Joysan called out from the bedroom.

Densil ran past Rampart to open the door in the family room which led to the quiet, open garden at the back of the simple, comfortable house. Rampart carefully lowered me into the finely-crafted wooden lounger Tasien gifted to him and Joysan on their last Choosing anniversary. It was one of six pieces they'd received over the years. Joysan brought the robe and made such a fuss over me I became embarrassed from the attention. Rampart pulled a chair closer and asked me question after question and Olexa took it upon herself to do the cooking.

At the tender age of eleven Olexa's batter-dipped toast was barely edible, though it tasted wonderful to me. A few more years experience and she would be a good cook, I hoped. Elispeth never really learned how to cook and, in some ways, Olexa was her mother's daughter. Densil prepared the ger-monte which was a little too spicy for my taste though it was well received by Rampart, who always liked zesty foods.

Vaughn sat in my lap, laughing and crying, and eating at the same time. "I love you," he declared, kissing me with lips stained by a cold berry tart. "Are you going to be sick anymore?"

"No," I told him. "I will get better. Isn't the day wonderful?"

"The sun isn't up yet," Vaughn commented, looking towards the pale-lit underside of the clouds to the east. His astute observation made everyone laugh.

Five days of rest and loving attention gave me enough strength to fend for myself. Though I often had to stop and rest, it felt good to be independently able once again. Joysan and Rampart allowed me to chose my own times to sit in the garden where I would think on what Elispeth said to me. My own feelings were confused and troubled, but I was certain of one thing, I would willingly care for her children as my own, for I loved them with all my heart.

On an afternoon when the bright light of the summer sun was tempered by high white clouds, I lay on the lounger trembling with fatigue. I'd tried to do too much too soon and it felt good to lay down for a moment. I was dozing when angry male voices disturbed me. I looked to the house, starting to rise, when Tasien burst into the garden. He came straight for me, his eyes narrowed, his face twisted with hate. I didn't recognize him, or the voice that shouted my name.

"I want you, Rachelle! You let her die!"

Rampart was immediately on Tasien's heels and laid a heavy hand on the smaller man's shoulder long before Tasien could reach me. I pulled back, drawing in on myself in the face of the anger directed towards me. Rampart spun Tasien about.

"That's enough!" Rampart warned, his voice cold and unbending. "You know you don't mean that. Come into the house, Tasien. We'll have a drink and talk this over..."

"Leave me alone, Rampart! I want the Pleasure slut's bent-leg get to know what she's done! She—ahhh!" Tasien cried out as Rampart expertly twisted the craftmaster's arm behind at an acute angle. He put his hand to the back of Tasien's stiff neck, forcing the smaller man into the house.

Tasien's accusation, his denial of me, raised a guilt within my breast which threatened to choke me. I trembled violently, as if a gust of winter wind had descended over the garden. I felt sick to my stomach when I realized what he called me. I bit my knuckles to keep from crying out.

Joysan rushed from the house. She was shocked at Tasien's vehemence, his unreasoning accusations, however, I could not face her pained sympathy. I buried my face into the lounger cushions, curled into a tight sobbing ball.

"Don't listen to what he said, Rachelle! He's filled with grief. Tasien didn't mean that, believe me!"

I tried. I honestly tried to believe Joysan, but I couldn't get the contempt in Tasien's eyes out of my mind.

3.

Rampart had to forcibly evict Tasien from his home. Elispeth's grief-stricken Chosen left in a towering rage, and he took Densil, Olexa and Vaughn with him. Vaughn understood least of all why he had to leave his karovenja when she wasn't completely well. He cried great tears until Tasien glared him into silence. I watched from Joysan's living room window, hidden behind the bright yellow curtains, as Tasien grabbed painfully gripped Olexa's arm to force his daughter into the sedan's back seat with Vaughn. Densil, almost as tall as his spare-built dovenja, had words with Tasien that caused the older man to attempt a repeat of Olexa's stern handling. Densil, however, was much stronger than he appeared and pulled free, though he eventually entered the car.

I leaned against the window sill as Tasien drove away, feeling suddenly chill, almost as if the Fever again descended upon me. A sense of terrible loss filled me, leaving a weakness in my too-thin, too recently fever-racked body. I sought Joysan's divan and lay back, curled into a sobbing ball.

"He didn't know what he was saying, Rachelle," Joysan's hand, cool and soft, caressed my cheek.

"It's not just that, Joysan," I sniffled, running my nose across the back of my hand as I sat up. "He took the children. I wasn't prepared to argue with him. I'm in no condition to face such bitter accusations."

Joysan said nothing because Rampart came in from outside long enough to say, "I'm going for a walk to cool off. That little sisk has me so—" the words choked him. Rampart scowled, making an angry gesture of dismissal with his strong hands. He slammed the door on his way out.

"Where are you going?" I asked Joysan when she started to get up.

"After Rampart," she said. "I'm going to tell him to go after the children and bring them back."

"You can't do that!" I pleaded. "If Tasien is this upset over Elispeth's death, he would be totally devastated by her last wish. Give him time to absorb things, Joysan."

Joysan frowned, her voice completely unsympathetic. "I happen to believe Elispeth knew what was right, Rachelle. Tasien is in no condition to take care of those children."

I brushed away salty tears, rubbing my eyes. The whole incident was terribly distressing. I tried to make Joysan understand why I had made no effort to prevent Tasien from taking the children. After all, I knew my sister's Chosen better than she or Rampart. "It would be heartlessly cruel to demand the children now, Joysan. He needs them to get through the next few days."

I truly believed that, for I knew how I had needed them. Tasien was their dovenja. He loved them in his way and they loved him, too, as each were able to in their different way. The more I thought of his shock at coming home to bluntly learn Elispeth, Teri and Rovena were dead, the more empathy I had for Tasien's disbelief and anger. "I'm shocked no one told him Elispeth was dead before he arrived home, Joysan." I hugged myself, rocking nervously back and forth. "It's totally inexcusable—"

"I don't know how that unforgivable oversight happened any more than you, Rachelle," Joysan's eyes were red, but probably not as much as mine; I couldn't stop crying. She gripped my hand intently and leaned closer. "But if you intend to do as Elispeth requested, it will be more cruel to wait until later..."

A week later Joysan and I went round to Tasien's to get my things. I intended to take the children then, but Tasien was so angry with me, he wouldn't let us enter the house. He adamantly refused to let me see the children though I heard them moving about upstairs. Vaughn was crying, but they wouldn't come when I called through the open door.

Joysan finally took me away. Joysan had warned me. She told me how hard it would be to get the children back from Tasien. I only wish I'd listened to her earlier. For two days I stayed locked in my bedroom in their home. I wouldn't eat. I refused to speak to anyone. When Rampart eventually broke the lock on the door because Joysan was so worried I realized how selfishly unfair I was and profusely apologized. We talked that night, Joysan and I, until the dawn rose hot and bright.

Elispeth was also right about never going back to the house which had been my home for nearly half my life. Tasien continued to refuse my entrance into his house three weeks after Elispeth's death. It finally took a determined visit from my brothers John and Tresal to pick up the few personal possessions I had accumulated in thirteen years; my clothes, some pictures of the family, and my gitar, the adult-sized instrument Elispeth asked Tasien to make for me in a happier time.

My brothers thought I was crazy. "Why are you staying here? There's nothing but heartache," John said. He was ever the practical one. Tresal put it more bluntly. "Tasien's as foul as ser-monte droppings to you, Rachelle. Let me break his fingers or bust his—"

I didn't tell them why I stayed, or what I hoped would happen. I knew Tasien would never have me back into his house and that hurt almost as much as losing my children, but the time to carry out Elispeth's wishes had passed and it took time to realize that. I'm sure that if I had spoken to father and explained what Elispeth wanted, he could have made Tasien give them to me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

My parents wanted me to come home the minute they learned I wasn't welcome at Tasien's. I know I confused them when I said "no." I needed time to work through my pain. Joysan and Rampart let me struggle through without asking questions or wanting to meddle—much. They loved me enough to leave me to myself. I dreaded going "home." Joysan knew when to be there for me and Rampart had musical commitments away from their house and, since their daughter was away at school, I was able to hide from the heartache by locking myself in my small room for days at a time. Where could I hide in the royal palace which had a household of over one-hundred and twenty?

But I could not impose on my friends forever, not when it broke my parents' hearts for me to stay away. My mothers would cry over me, I knew that before I said goodbye to Joysan and let Rampart drive me down to Gizen.

When I was a child Marsei and Vella had hovered over me constantly, showering me with such affection it became stifling at times. Yet, despite my misgivings, when I arrived at the royal palace I felt a great relief to have my dovenja hold me in his arms, and to feel the sweet pressure of Vella's lips on mine, and basking in the warmth of Marsei's encouraging smile.

John and Papke now lived in my old suite and Tresal and Yurilla were also well settled across the hall, so I took Elispeth's old rooms to avoid turning the household upside down. I originally moved in feeling hopeful, but everything in those painfully familiar rooms reminded me of Elispeth's tragic death; of her telling me things I never suspected she knew. Most of all those rooms reminded me of my failure to carry out my sister's last wish.

The apartment was choked with memories of two little girls eager to sample life. Elispeth's suite was exactly like my old one; a parlor, bedroom, bath, and study, though it had never been equipped with the paraphernalia a cripple child needed to move about. I had enjoyed coming to Elispeth's room which was always filled with the scent of flowers and perfumes. I had watched her brush long, silky hair I would gladly kill for; modeling dresses that flattered her graceful figure, and laughing through asking and giving opinions. Though Joysan was always a better friend to me, Elispeth had been the most affectionate. We had been as close as a normal person and a physically twisted younger sister could be. Very little had changed in the suite because dovenja kept it in readiness for Elispeth and Tasien's infrequent visits to Gizen. The only thing which had been added was an extensive bookshelf in the parlor. The divan where my sister and I had curled up and giggled and confided hopes and dreams had been re-covered in soft-brushed barabe leather. It was there Elispeth told me Tasien had Accepted her Petition. The full-length mirror across from the bath was where Elispeth and I practiced our parts for her Rite of Choosing. It was here, at the end of that ceremony, Elispeth and Tasien returned to seal the beginning of their life together between the sheets of the large canopied bed.

The apartment, a place of happy childhood memories, also over-laid with unspoken sibling rivalry and personal disappointments, was now a room of accusations and lies (mine) and failure (mine as well). However painful it was, Elispeth's suite was the only place I could withdraw from the family's bustle. I wasn't ready to blithely resume a life I left behind thirteen years earlier. So I said nothing and tried to settle in but the guilt preyed on me and the nightmares began; dreams of happiness gone sour, tormented by senseless death and hatred, and more death. It was my father who finally made it possible for me to deal with my depression.

We had finished dinner at the usual time. I patiently listened to my brothers John and Tresal argue politics over dessert and kla. Papke and Yurilla offered amused comments when their men got out of hand, the usual high-spirited chatter between family members. After a time, when the kla was gone and the last fral cakes consumed, dovenja put down his napkin and offered his hand to me.

"Shall we a walk in the garden, Rachelle? We always used to walk after dinner."

I looked up to his gentle smile, his warm brown eyes twinkling expectantly. When I was slow in responding, he patted his middle with a chuckle. "I need the exercise, little one. Been sitting behind a desk too long."

John and Tresal respectfully jeered his remark. They both nursed bruises from a ju-jitsu work out with father before dinner.

Yurilla, Tresal's Chosen and most gloriously pregnant with her second child, punched her man's shoulder. "You should show a little deference for your elders," she warned.

Yurilla was nearly twelve years older than Tresal, though she looked younger than me. She still held to the old traditions that children should not mock their parents. I wondered what she'd be like when she was 150 instead of 42. They say brothers and sisters often think alike, I believe it is true because Tresal asked Yurilla the very same question. He received a pretty pout and a girlish tongue thrust in his direction. Father applauded Yurilla's response, winking at Tresal, thoroughly enjoying the close family warmth at his table. He stood behind my chair, leaning down a little to whisper to me.

"Perhaps my invitation was improperly phrased, princess..." He patted his tunic pocket and gave me that boyish wink.

"You don't—" I started to say as he placed my hand over his heart. I felt the hard lump of candy in his pocket. He smiled at me and I blushed.

When I was very small it had taken strong measures to get me out of bed after an operation. Sometimes dovenja appealed to my sweet tooth to take the needed exercise to strengthen my leg. When I got older the candy wasn't needed because the long quiet walks with dovenja were reason enough. I was so touched that he remembered his little bribes that I accepted his arm when he offered it again. I made my excuses to the others and let father escort me through the double glass doors into the courtyard.

I loved the courtyard garden. I had spent a good part of my childhood in it. I was four years old when the Yellowbands had completed the palace construction six years after the war. The land on which the royal residence was built lay near the center of old Gizen; that part which had been completely razed to the ground by Allied bombers. Not a tree, not a blade of grass grew in that desolation for many years until the people returned to rebuild the city. My mothers had personally, with their own hands, designed and planted the lovely flowering beds lining the walks. Father had put in every single tree as seedlings or young plants. The torpals and fenac trees towered now, some reaching as high as the third story. The evening breeze softly rustled the leaves of the trees. Intensely fragrant night-blooming clumps of gernica opened hundreds of tiny white blossoms as the larger daytime varieties—the reds and yellows—closed for the night. Kerhala vine twisted round the sturdy silver-gray trunks of well-sculpted torpals, climbing high to display miniature blue-white flowers glittering like sprays of distant stars captured in the tree canopies.

I had been home for a Tenday. I had not visited the garden in that time and I now regretted that, for it was peaceful and restful and the present company was the very best. I linked my arm through dovenja's, my head upon his shoulder. I felt safe holding to his wiry arm, smelling his familiar scent.

"You should have asked me earlier, dovenja. Why did you let me sit up there in that room all this time? You, better than anyone, always seem to know what I need."

"And when you need it," he softly added. "If I'd asked you last night you'd have said no. And the night before and the night before that. Besides, I had a little trouble finding your brand—" Dovenja patted his pocket, his wink mischievous, his smile gleaming white through his thick, curly beard.

I lowered my eyes to the worn brick which formed the path. "The last time I walked through a gernica garden was the day Rovena was born," I said without knowing I would say it. Once said, however, I knew it was necessary. "The gernica smelled just as sweet, dovenja. Elispeth remarked on the fragrance of our northern gernica in the bed beside the house. Though she couldn't smell it I thought I sensed the odor of fear in the air. I'm so thankful Doctors Greytok found their serum."

Father walked in silence for a few paces, patting my arm linked with his. "We're making the serum available to all nations without recompense, Rachelle. I have every long distance jet on standby. We'll deliver serum and trained medical personnel to any country that will let us help. We'll stamp this thing out before it kills someone else's Elispeth and Rovena and Teri."

The muscles in his arm become rock hard as dovenja made his vow. My father never said anything unless he meant it and he never made promises unless he could deliver. He would inoculate every single person on Uhr if that is what it took to conquer this strange disease that threatened everyone, not just his own family. Now that he had a weapon to fight the disease his resolve was strong. And I could take strength from that.

We walked to the end of the east path and turned south along the balcony wall. There were decorative lights in the garden, placed aesthetically to display the plants and to light the paths without being obtrusive. One could always see the stars or the Dance of the Moons from any point along the garden, even under the artificial lighting. We stopped for a moment to watch Uhr's three tiny satellites performing the second of eight nightly orbits, a celestial game of chase, tag, and chase again.

"It's good to have you home, Rachelle," father's voice was soft as we enjoyed the Dance of the Moons. He took my hand and raised it to his lips. "It's a shame I'm going to have to throw you out."

"What?" I looked up and saw him smiling through his beard, his eyes merry.

"I'm afraid so, darling. Oh," he reached into his pocket and pulled out the piece of candy. "I almost forgot your bribe. Open wide—"

I shook my head. "I really don't want it. Could we just sit and talk? Would you mind explaining what you just said?"

"I've been waiting for you to ask. Here, take the candy anyway. You'll taste better when I give you your goodnight kiss."

I couldn't refuse that request. It was good sour candy, the kind I love best. He took me to a favorite bench, the site of other summer evening conversations. I sat quietly until he was settled. Though I wanted to talk to him I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, or even how to begin. Father started first.

"Kitten, you've been through something I'd give anything to have spared you. I know how close you and Elispeth were. We all loved her."

I started crying and I couldn't stop. Father offered his sleeve handkerchief of which I made immediate and messy use.

Father cleared his throat and leaned forward, elbows to knees. "I was serious when I said I want you to leave, Rachelle. I need Elispeth's old suite for Tresal and Yurilla. She'll be ready to have that baby in a few months and we'll need the extra room for it and Benjamin and the two of them. I could shift everyone about, but I don't really see the need.

"You and Elispeth left home and for years you've had a place of your own, Sugar. I can't conceive of you ever being as happy as you should be living under your mothers' roof."

"Maybe I could," I said, realizing he wasn't teasing me at all. He was truly serious.

"Don't compromise yourself, teela. You already know how difficult it would be to come back home permanently. As big as this old pile is, we're getting crowded..."

"You know me, dovenja," I tried to laugh, "I don't take up much room and I eat very little."

"Too damn little if you ask me, Miss Skin-and-Bones. I could find you a broom closet or a shelf in the bathroom, but would you really want that? Your mother would be all over you every minute and you know it."

"Which one?" I giggled nervously.

"Either, and don't get sassy with me, sugar-britches. Now be quiet and let me get on with this, you're ruining my concentration—bad thing to do to old men and giva hunters."

"Yes, sir."

"Tresal knows how much trouble his expanding family is going to be and set out to do something about it before talking it over with your mothers. He found himself a cute little apartment and took it, then told them. Well, you can imagine how that went over. Vella cried and Marsei said no. She wants that baby born right here in the palace. So—we've got us an apartment without occupants."

"I seem to sense something here," I entered happily into his light-hearted banter. "Are you suggesting I take the place off Tresal's hands?"

"I knew you'd see it my way. Now, about the matter of your livelihood. You will, of course, be given a suitable allowance. A mere pittance, naturally, since I never spoil my children—" he patiently waited until I managed to control my giggles.

"As I was saying," he chuckled, hugging me tight, rocking me gently in his arms, "no member of my family ever takes something for nothing so I suggest you put that musical talent of yours to use and teach children the gitar. School Number Four is only a few blocks away from the apartment. You can walk there in less than ten minutes—and yes I timed it. I had Tresal crawl it on his hands and knees so we'd have a roughly accurate guesstimate of your rather unique method of locomotion."

"You didn't!" I grinned. I could almost see Tresal doing just that. My brother was crazy enough to do it on a dare.

"Stop interrupting, child. You can walk to school every day which will do wonders for keeping yourself from becoming fat and lazy like myself. I will, however, provide you with a car, specially equipped for wonderful little girls like you. You will use it to visit us whenever you like, or you can take a drive to Blene if you've got the cash to pay for the sessium needed for all three-thousand miles. How does it sound so far?"

"You're not fat and lazy," I said, poking a stiffened finger into his lean ribs. "If you can tell one lie, can the rest be true?"

Father laughed. When I didn't join him immediately, he curled the fingers of his left hand into my ribs and tickled. "Don't make sport of your elders, girl," he threatened. "I shall have to go beat Vella for failing to instruct you in proper respect."

"That is the most empty threat I have ever heard in my life." I leaned into him, hugging myself to his warm, wiry strength. "My own place—thank you, dovenja! Thank you."

"I know you've been unhappy here and I know why."

For a chilling moment I was afraid he really knew why, His next words eased that sudden anxiety. "I don't know why I was too thick to see it myself. Yurilla told me she heard you crying in your sleep. I don't suppose it's been easy staying in your sister's suite." He sighed, a remorseful sound that touched me deeply. But he put it away swiftly, determined not to further mar the laughter we'd shared this evening. "I did lie, darling. Tresal found the apartment, but he had no intention of moving out."

"I knew that," I tugged on his beard, leaning close to kiss him. "Yurilla and I talk over kla. She never said anything about moving."

He raised his hands in helpless surrender. "I should have known! Why did you let me carry on like that?"

"I didn't know about the apartment. We just discussed renovating their suite. Your secret is safe."

"Good. My faith is restored. Now, will you do something for me?"

"Anything, father."

"Don't be so hasty, child. This isn't the same as falling down and picking yourself up. Actually, you'll be picking someone else up." He wasn't smiling now. His face was troubled. He seemed hesitant and that was not like Simon Jules Ward, King of Zea.

"What is it, father?"

"This is a little hard for me, half-pint. It hurts to see someone I love change into someone I don't know. We all miss Elispeth, of course, we all feel some anger at the way she was taken from us, but it seems to have affected Tasien so—" he paused, searching for words "—well, he's—"

Father had my undivided attention. "You once told me to get it out fast so it quits making you crazy. What about Tasien?"

"I know how Tasien thinks of you now even though the boy's out of his mind. But he's apparently taken the same attitude toward Olexa. Now you know I try not to interfere with the lives of my children—hold it to a minimum at any rate—but I have to do something about this before someone gets hurt."

I sat up, painfully alert. "What's happened? It's Olexa, isn't it?"

Father took me by the arms to keep me from jumping off the bench. "Hold on and listen before you go running. Last night Olexa was brought to the hospital with various contusions. She wouldn't say what happened to her, just that she fell down the stairs. Densil, however, was quite explicit with the doctor, saying Tasien lost control and beat her. He may have been shouting off his anxiety, but when the doctor questioned him more closely, Densil quickly changed his story."

I covered my mouth, eyes wide with fear. "Dear Herza! I must go to her! Where is she?"

Father patted my arm reassuringly. "She going to be alright, Sugar. Just listen to me for a minute. I think this important. The doctor Densil took her to is a personal friend of Carol Greytok and he called her because Olexa is my granddaughter and Carol is close to me. Densil knows this, of course, and is now denying everything."

"Where is she, dovenja?"

"At my request she's still in the hospital under observation. Your brother John and I went to see Tasien this afternoon and he admitted he got a little out of control while disciplining Olexa for some infraction. He said he was sorry, that it would never happen again. I assured him it wouldn't because Olexa was going to stay with us for a while."

"What did he say?" I asked, feeling relief that my little girl would no longer have to endure her father's cruel abuse.

"Tasien said something that made sense to me, Rachelle. He said no one could love his children more than Elispeth or you. He said if he had to give her up, he wants you to have her. It's up to you, darling. I know you love Olexa as much as we do, but if you'd rather, we'll gladly take her."

"Of course I want her! What did Olexa say about this?"

"I haven't told her. I thought you'd like to. Let me have my good night kiss and scoot. There's a driver and car waiting to take you to the hospital. If you want you can even take her to the apartment, the driver knows where it is. There isn't much there in the way of furnishing yet, we didn't have time to—"

I kissed him long and hard to shut him up. "I'll bring Olexa right back here tonight. Did I ever mention you are the most wonderful dovenja in the world?"

"A couple of thousand times, but who's counting?" He lifted me off the bench and hugged me briefly before gently slapping my backside with the palm of his hand. "You better get going."

I put my arms about dovenja's neck and buried my face against his chest. "I love you, you ornery old coot."

He chuckled, holding me for a moment. "I see you still remember Vella's advanced slang lessons."

"Some of it. I still don't know what it means, but I see it still makes you laugh."

"Depends on how it's used, but from you it's sweet. Run along, Olexa is waiting."

I started toward the garage. Before I turned the path, dovenja called out: "Don't keep my driver out all night, he has to take me to the airport in the morning."

"I won't!" I searched my little girl memory and found the name I used to call him before I thought I grew too old to play at Earther words. "I love you, Pops!"

He smiled, waving. "I love you, too, kitten."

I don't know what an Earther "kitten" is but they must be wonderfully warm and soft because that's how I feel every time dovenja calls me that.

John and Tresal were delighted for an excuse to holiday and help me move into my new apartment. We could have hired the work done, but the Ward Family is never adverse to getting their hands good and dirty at honest work. Four hours after we started I heard Tresal regretfully repeating that tired old joke to Olexa and told her not to believe a word he said.

"If your kadovenja Tresal wasn't adverse to 'honest work' he'd be on that fifty mile hike with the rest of his outfit instead of moving a few little pieces of furniture and drinking my zuri wine."

I grinned as I picked up the decanter and started to pour a glass for myself—and found it empty! "Tresal! You really did drink it all!"

"Wasn't me, Rachelle," Tresal quickly denied. He raised his hands defensively. "John had it last."

"That's an outright lie!" John grinned. He straightened from putting a carton of books by the wall and drew the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead. "There was at least one full glass left."

Olexa tried to look innocent as all eyes turned towards her. She held her chin in the air and crossed her arms. "It was only a little..."

I narrowed my eyes toward the defiant child. In a soft voice I spoke to my brothers. "John, don't you and Tresal have something else left on the truck?"

Tresal frowned, shaking his head. Then John, immensely more experienced and wiser from his ten minutes prior arrival at their joint birth, beckoned Tresal to join him at the door. "Let's get the rest of the stuff in, Tresal. Don't get lazy on me now."

"Yeah," Tresal glanced at Olexa with sympathetic eyes. He knew as well as Olexa what was coming. He dusted his hands on his pants and put his arm around John's shoulder. "Hey! We're almost through, old man."

When they were out the door and down the stairs, I faced Olexa, tapping the side of the wine bottle. "Just because you're here without your brothers, young lady, don't think the rules have changed any."

"I didn't see any harm. Father let me..."

"I didn't say there was any harm done," I sighed. "I just told you the rules were the same. You may have wine with dinner—one glass—but I will not have you drinking at any other time. Is that clear?"

"Dovenja let me."

"If drinking is that important then you better go back home. If you stay here, you have to do things my way—the way your mother would have done them."

There was such anger in the child that I almost relented. Olexa's life wasn't easy before her mother's death, and it had not improved afterwards. For a moment I thought I was too harsh on her until Olexa burst into tears and clung to me.

"I'm sorry, karovenja Rachelle! I won't do it again."

After Olexa calmed down we sat on the couch and talked quietly. Hesitantly she told me about things which had happened to her; the disappointments, the constant nagging, the lack of trust her father gave her. It was heartbreaking to learn how Tasien had terrified his daughter by innuendo, implication, and finally physical threats. Elispeth tried to warn me and now I was beginning to understand what she meant about Tasien, and I learned ugly things I didn't know about him. I was more determined than ever that Olexa would never have to fear her father again.

Perhaps John and Tresal secretly listened at the door, or they just sensed the right moment to return. Whatever the reason for their timing, they arrived at the proper moment to jar Olexa and I out of our unhappy mood. They did not come empty handed, though I was sure my belongings and the things given to me to furnish the apartment were all moved in. They brought several bottles of wine, some ger-monte sausage, a large wedge of sharp barabe cheese, a half-dozen fral cakes, a sack of yellow fruit, and a basket of fried zuri. They set the table with dishes Vella had put together for me out of the palace kitchen. In moments we were ready to eat.

"John cooked as we walked down the street," Tresal chuckled commenting on the heat of the day. "It's hot out there! But it's good to know there's so many restaurants in the neighborhood. You can go out every night and never eat at the same place twice, Rachelle."

"That may be interesting to a lazy man like you, Tresal, but I'm a working girl now. I can't afford such luxuries like you men in the service who are over-paid and under-worked."

"Well, I don't think you'll have any trouble eating this food bought by one of the under-worked."

"I doubt I shall, Tresal. Thank you." I gave him a kiss above his thick, curly beard and allowed him to seat me at the table. John performed the same service for Olexa.

"Table rules?" John inquired since this was my house.

I looked to each of them and picked up my fork. "I think we can suspend them for today."

"Wahoo!" Tresal shouted and reached for the zuri. "Excuse my reach, John."

"Excuse mine," his brother replied.

I winked at Olexa. "You better grab before they get it all."

Olexa was perplexed by her uncles' behavior, but she was quick to emulate their actions. She was on her third sausage when the door shook under a pounding. John opened it and jumped back as Simon, Marsei, Vella, Papke and Yurilla came in. Each had something in their arms which was deposited in any free area in the main room.

"What's all this?" I asked as Vella gave me a hug.

"Mostly clothes for Olexa," Vella winked and nodded towards Marsei. "Your mother insisted on buying a few new things for her."

"I would have—"

"You know how Marsei is, Rachelle. I don't think she'll ever forget those years we lived in Vachon with only two dresses apiece."

"The way I heard it," I whispered in her ear, "you and Marsei weren't in those dresses most of the time."

Vella winked mischievously as she put her arm about my waist and led me to the kitchen where Marsei emptied sacks of groceries Simon abandoned there in favor of the couch and a glass of wine.

"Here's your daughter, Marsei," Vella teased.

"Mine? No thank you. If she's been bad, she's yours."

"I didn't say she was bad." Vella leaned close and whispered to the tall, pale, buxom blonde who contrasted Vella's slim, dark, brunette beauty. From the amused look on Marsei's lovely face I could imagine that my comment was repeated. An instant later I was certain.

Marsei took my arm and smiled. "Your father is still that way. But now I like to have a different dress to get back into. Questions? I won't answer them. Where do you want the stewed ger-monte?"

"I'm open to suggestions..."

"In that case," Marsei looked about, found an apron and pushed the sleeves of her dress above the elbows. "Vella, let's show this little girl how a kitchen should be."

"You didn't like my kitchen on the Heights?" I asked.

For a moment their gaiety had made me forget Elispeth's death, but those few words took smiles from faces, including mine. My real mother was the first to recover and she did it without ever once saying what she felt in her heart. I don't think any of us ever could—we endured.

"Would you look at this cabinet, Marsei? It's smaller than the one at the cabin!"

"Might make a good place for the zuri bin. Right. Let's get the rest of this unloaded, Rachelle, so we can see what we have."

I was so tired by the time everyone left just before midnight that I decided I would clean up the last of the remaining dishes in the morning. Olexa was yawning and I found it contagious.

"Off to bed, Olexa. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

I was already under the covers when Olexa padded naked into my room carrying the night dress Marsei had purchased for her. "Do I have to wear this?" she asked.

"Not if you don't want to."

"Good." She started to the door then stopped, her face framed by the light coming through the high window over my bed. She wanted to ask something else, but hesitated.

"What do you want, Olexa?" I gently prodded.

"May I sleep with you?" she asked, her voice very small.

It had been years since Olexa asked to sleep with me. As a tiny child she did that only when she was frightened, had a bad dream, or was very lonely. I pulled the covers back in invitation which she immediately accepted. Curling up against my side, I put my arms about her and felt the dampness of tears on my breasts.

"Why are you crying, dear?"

"I'm so glad to be home!"

I let her cry while I thought of her words. Could it really be that simple? Home is where you are loved?

4.

In spite of the confidence my father had in me, I was terribly uncertain of my ability to teach music. My only performance experience was playing for Elispeth's children, none of whom seemed to have any desire to be musicians, though they loved music very much. I put off talking to Lin Donalson, the Master of Music at School Number Four, for several weeks before I found the courage to meet with him. I was simply doubtful of my qualifications.

My music background was a odd assortment of lessons given to me by Tasien when I was very young and continued with greater intensity with Rampart when he was Master Donalson's star protege. My "formal" training was copying Rampart's lessons as we grew up. Rampart is fourteen years older than me and is vastly more experienced from years of lessons with Lin Donalson; yet he was kind-hearted enough to share his knowledge with me after Tasien reached his teaching limits. I fondly remember hours spent playing gitar with Rampart, with Joysan watching the two of us, urging me on. Rampart often dared me to repeat a figure he performed and each dare was a lesson, though it never felt like "lessons" with Rampart. These music sessions occurred while he and Joysan lived at the palace after their Choosing, before she was pregnant with Rachelle and they found their house in the Heights. Not long after that Tasien Accepted Elispeth's Petition and they, too, left the palace.

From that time on the only music I studied was with Lin Donalson himself. He and his Chosen, Anne Morgaine, were frequent visitors to the royal household and well welcomed because they were fellow Earthers like dovenja. Lin was from America and Morgaine was a pretty, diminutive German. Father always asked Donalson to bring a gitar because "a house without music is too boring to endure".

I never initiated the music sessions with Lin Donalson because I was in awe of the Earther's tremendous playing ability. He was pleasantly persistent, however, getting me to take up my gitar and play with him every visit. The tall, lanky Earther remained interested in my progress until I moved to the Heights with Elispeth and Tasien which made it nearly impossible for us to see each other. There were times, in the years that followed, that I missed those impromptu lessons from Lin, who headed the classes at School Number 4—called "Royal School" because all the King's children had attended it.

Like my father, Lin was a Sane Transit, and American, and that was part of the attraction which had brought them together in a friendship that began before I was born. Lin Donalson's primary instrument was the gitar. He is credited with making the instrument popular with the public. Lin is also considered the premiere musician of Zea, though some believe his protege Rampart of the Heights not only equaled, but excelled the master.

I eventually talked with Lin, a too-tall, too-thin, sun-browned white man with an engaging grin and love of life and head of the Royal School. He convinced me I was more than capable of taking beginning and intermediate students without further training and, with some additional study which he looked forward to providing, it was possible that I could rise to the rank of an accredited master of the instrument. While I found that prediction hard to accept I was pleased to begin teaching. I felt privileged to work alongside such a well-liked and famous man, but more importantly, Lin Donalson was a close friend of the royal family and I knew him well.

Lin's Chosen, a remarkable woman with flame-red hair and skin as pale as barabe milk, was also a teacher at School Number Four. I had liked her warm smile and generous heart since I was a child. I even took part in the first Naming Day celebration of their son, Lindan, who was now seventeen and getting ready for university. The Donalsons were good people and frequent visitors to the palace when I was growing up and Lin had encouraged my interest in music. I believe that is one reason why I never became too embittered over my deformity because when I play music I do something that is special and beautiful.

Lin Donalson was an important factor in the upbringing of the king's children, both natural and adopted. Rampart eventually graduated from School Number Four and became a prominent musician on his own. Tasien, an early student of Lin's, took another direction, showing a talent for instrument construction instead of performance. John and Tresal have not instrumental talents as such, though Lin trained their rich baritones in the school choir. Elispeth fancied the reed flute and worked diligently; though however much she wanted to play she never advanced beyond the basics. There were times over the years that Elispeth would produce her flute and play duets with me until her embarrassment for not learning more caused her to put it away until the urge came over her again.

Lin Donalson was a dedicated musician and teacher who had taught me. It was very easy for me to start teaching the younger children, armed by Donalson's unfailing support. It was even easier to get used to living in the neighborhood because the Donalson's small home was only four blocks south of the school and they had lived in this part of Gizen since the end of the Great War. They were well liked by everyone—and those who they liked were also made welcome.

Anne Morgaine ku Donalson taught hand-to-hand combat at the school. I once thought this a strange profession for a woman until I watched the semester exhibitions held two months after I started teaching. There is an enthralling grace and beauty in the martial arts that defies description. When two equally talented opponents face each other in combat their movements draw the eye and their control and perfection of form is awe-inspiring.

Morgaine taught a different form of unarmed combat than that favored by my father, but there were similarities in both: the knowledge of killing swiftly, the ability to maim and, most importantly, the refusal of combat. I can't recall the number of times my father said he'd rather be a live coward than a dead hero. Then he would laugh and say "Better yet, a live hero who knows when to be a coward." I may not have said that right, but I understood his meaning.

Morgaine urged me to join her classes simply for the exercise and participation, but I declined. She accepted my refusal graciously. "Not all can follow this path, Rachelle. I respect your decision, but carry a gun."

"I don't think that's necessary," I said. I started to reveal my reason for not participating, but knew she'd never accept my embarrassment at being so awkward as a suitable excuse. But I did disagree with her feelings. "We have laws and men to enforce them."

"But we still have rapes, murders, and assaults," Morgaine pointed out. "If you won't take the whole course, at least learn a few things."

She laughingly kept after me until I gave in to obtain some peace. Anne Morgaine taught me several uncomplicated tactics and worked me until I knew them well. That I would ever find value in her instruction was dramatically demonstrated the next time John mischievously tried to sneak up on me during a family picnic at Pim River Park. When his hands roughly grabbed my waist from behind, without me knowing who grabbed me, I reacted without thought. Startled into the trained response ingrained by Anne Morgaine's instruction left John flat on his back. I almost couldn't wait to tell her how well it worked!

I enrolled Olexa at School Number Four when I started teaching. Olexa was hesitant about the new school. She felt guilty for feeling so relieved to be out from under her father's influence, but there were other reasons which made it difficult to adjust. She missed the few friends she'd known at the Heights school and her noisy brothers.

Whole days passed without conversation between us and these silences became more infrequent as Olexa adjusted to the, for her, strange ways of the city. She rarely mentioned her father and never spoke of Elispeth. By the end of the third Tenday, however, Olexa opened up, displaying a bright, inquisitive personality Tasien had repressed so terribly for so long.

Once she was comfortable within herself Olexa settled into school with a minimum of problems. She seemed determined to do well and I fully supported her. Olexa diligently applied herself though she had difficulty with mathematics and the sciences. I helped her where I could but so much time had elapsed since I studied numbers that much of it was new to me. My inability to explain things caused Olexa to look forward to our weekly Tenth Day visit to my parent's palace across town. Olexa usually brought her assignment books and if she couldn't get father to hold still and explain some mathematical exercise, she'd make her kadovenja John answer her questions. Naval aviators had to hold high scholastic honors to fly the complicated machinery which kept Zea a leading world power. John cheerfully made time to help Olexa but, as the months passed, both dovenja and John often managed to be unavailable for inquiries until after dinner time. When Olexa eventually cornered them, they would entertain a few questions, knowing full well they wouldn't suffer long because we usually left an hour after the meal.

During those first months at the school, Densil often visited us, riding the bus from the Heights to see us on Rest Day. The changes in my nephew went beyond his physical growth, which was quite impressive. I felt he matured too quickly, robbed of childhood by too soon accepting adult responsibilities; yet, he always had a smile for me and kiss for Olexa when he arrived. When he left, however, Densil was usually moody and brooding because he rarely got answers to explain his father's actions—actions which left him confused.

I tried to be helpful to Densil. The best I could do was listen and comment where I had knowledge or something useful to say. Other than that I could only be there for him. Densil's life at home—with Tasien—was one battle after another; without physical blows, Densil assured me (I knew he lied); facing constant, maddening conflicts of will. Tasien wanted Densil and Vaughn to follow his trade. Vaughn was not old enough to defy his father so Densil tried to intercede for his brother.

"I don't mind working in wood," Densil told me late one night after Olexa had gone to bed, "but Vaughn hates it. He wants to fly jets like kadovenja John. I'm not sure he ever will, his school work is terrible, but if he wants to try, dovenja should let him."

"Your father only wants the best for you and Vaughn." I sincerely hoped that was true. It was difficult for me to think of a father having no interest in his children's desires. But I knew that not every child had a father as wonderful and caring as mine.

"In a way I believe that, too, karovenja Rachelle, but there's something missing, something different about him. All he talks about is having Olexa come home. He wants his family back together. At first I thought he was still mad at ahdovenja Simon, but now I don't know. He regrets all the things he said about you. He talks about you all the time. I think he misses having you home. I know I do."

It was not the first time Densil told me this. Each time I heard it the old feelings flooded through me; the house, the children united together, my secret desire for Tasien. When I heard it from Densil's lips that his father felt the same, I could almost believe it was possible to return to the place which had been a major part of my life for so long. However, I knew this was impossible. I also had an obligation to Olexa. I knew from experience that the poor child would wilt under her dovenja's stifling influence. "I can't go back, Densil. I wish I could explain, but I can't."

"I wasn't asking," the boy told me in his man's voice. "But maybe you could visit? He would like to see Olexa..."

"Did Tasien send you here to ask me that, Densil?"

"No. He doesn't even know I'm here tonight. He thinks I'm visiting at the palace. And I will be—tomorrow."

My phone number was no secret, but I was usually surprised when I got a call. One that left me stunned was Tasien's call a few days before the anniversary of Elispeth's death. He was pleasant, though subdued, and asked about Olexa and her progress in school. He inquired about my family and apologized for not being a more frequent visitor when Densil and Vaughn spent their holidays at the palace. He mentioned a few things regarding his work and that was the extent of the conversation.

There was nothing in his words or tone that revealed any resentment towards me. He seemed very like the old Tasien I'd fallen in love with—a little embittered with life, of course, but much the same. In the months that followed he called every other week, nothing rigid or pre-arranged, and all were pleasant conversations. By Fall Break I discovered I began looking forward to Tasien's calls and wondering if Elispeth had been wrong about him after all.

At the end of the school year several things became apparent in my life. I was now an accomplished teacher under Lin Donalson's patient tutelage and a better musician because of Rampart's good natured goading and demonstrations of his more flamboyant approach to the instrument and I discovered a new confidence in myself as a person able to handle her own affairs. The other thing was admitting I still loved Tasien.

I kept that part carefully concealed, even from myself. I shouldn't have such feelings for the man who'd driven Olexa to the brink, or the forced Vaughn to apprentice in the shop. I knew it was ridiculous to love a man who demanded adult responsibilities from his oldest son, who was still a young boy in many ways. But I couldn't help having those secret thoughts about Tasien, especially when I felt a little lonely as I often did at night when the city slept.

I missed my talks with Joysan, but teaching kept me in Gizen most of the time. I saw Rampart more than Joysan because of his concert dates in the city. At Fall Break I accepted an invitation for Olexa and me to have an extended visit with Rampart and Joysan. I was happy to go because Joysan's daughter Rachelle was due home from Tech over the three week holiday period.

A year and a half wrought many changes in Olexa. She was now taller than me and quite pretty. I rarely saw a frown on her face, especially when she was out with Lindan or one of the other young men who called her at the apartment. When first told of my arrangements to visit Joysan, Olexa was reluctant to go until I explained she did not have to see her father if that was her wish. Once Olexa knew she had the choice, the smile returned and she packed with enthusiasm. We went to the Heights together and had fine visit with Joysan, Rampart, and their lovely daughter, but in the end I came back alone. Olexa had a chance meeting with Tasien and after seeing he was once more in control, she decided to return home. To a point it was her choice and I felt happy for her, but I missed her. I cried myself to sleep that first lonely night back in my empty apartment.

For a time Tasien's phone calls stopped. I couldn't help wondering if I'd been used to bring Olexa back to him. I was angry with Tasien for enticing Olexa from me, so hurt in my loneliness that my only relief was work. I pushed my students and myself relentlessly until Lin Donalson was forced to speak to me. He was kind and said he was willing to help me with whatever problem I had, but I must take it easier on the children.

Lin's private talk opened my eyes to what I was doing with my life. I was slowly heading towards self-destruction through bitterness and regret. I had even stopped seeing my family on Tenth Day. From that moment of realization I reexamined my options and, to occupy myself physically, I spent more time in Morgaine's classes, learning the sort of self-discipline that urges objectivity regardless of the situation; consequently, I found a controlled outlet for my repressed anger which would harm no one, including myself.

Lin encouraged my growing confidence as a teacher and gitarist and, at his insistence, I let him talk me into joining him in a few local concert performances. The most important thing I learned while preparing for those performances was a patient understanding of one's lot in life.

This knowledge came from a number of people I loved and trusted. There was the patient father waiting for a daughter to find herself, always available, always loving. Vella's gentle patience was that of wisdom and joy: she could be free, but would that be wise when it would destroy her happiness? Marsei's patience was for her children and I was hers as much as Vella's. She, too, was wise and her genuine affection for Vella transcended any possible jealousy or bitterness. Marsei's patience was that of endurance because there were those in society who thought the king set a poor example not befitting his station.

I even learned patience from John who, as a child, never had any for me. His mate Papke was First Warrior of the Home Islands and she was not like the average woman. She was the official ambassador of her people, which was only one facet of her strong personality. Papke's primitive Great Western Ocean island society refused to credit males with any ability or responsibility. Males were only valued for the seed they carried to make new life and Island men were treated with less respect than slaves were accorded in other countries.

John, who loved Papke deeply, therefore showed great patience when dealing with his willful mate. The Islander, daughter of the current woman ruler of the Home Islands, faithfully observed the laws of her people, remaining an independent citizen who always chose her own path. That her choice was to love a "barbarian" with dark-skin and live with him solely was a sign of her true emotions. John might lose his patience with others, but never with Papke.

The one thing that tied this realization all together was love. Love of family, love of self, love of music—I had two out of three and mutely endured that impossible yearning for the one love I seemed destined never to know.

Summer was approaching when Tasien resumed calling. He never offered an explanation for the hiatus and I was too happy to hear from him to risk asking.

The phone calls became occasional quiet lunches when he was in town to select new woods for his apparently thriving business. I never knew when he would be in Gizen or ask me to lunch so I found myself staying at home more often, just in case he would call. This continued through the summer and into the first of fall.

Joysan made one of her unusual week long trips to Gizen and stayed with me six of the ten days. It was pleasant to have her around, to talk as we did as young girls or when I lived in the Heights and Joysan was only a few minutes away. Joysan loves to cook and I didn't fix dinner once while she was there, though she made me do the dishes. In the evening we'd play dice and gossip. Although I was very happy and carefree, I half-feared something would spoil our visit—and something did.

Tasien called during Joysan's last night at my apartment before moving on to visit the family. I talked with Tasien at length while Joysan looked on disapprovingly. Finally agreeing to have lunch with Tasien the following day, I started to tell him Joysan was with me. She shook her head in such a fashion I said nothing until after I hung up.

"And what is wrong with telling him you're here?" I asked.

Joysan cleared the dice game from the table. She frowned, heaving a sigh of exasperation. "It's a long and depressing story, Rachelle. Let's just say Rampart and Tasien aren't the friends they were in school—or before Elispeth died."

"I know Tasien was out of line when Elispeth—well, he's not like that anymore."

"How long have you been seeing him?" Joysan bluntly asked.

I sensed her cool criticism and that irritated me. "You never liked the thought of Tasien and me together, Joysan. Even when we were children you did everything you could to come between us. Why? I know it can't be because you wanted him because you Petitioned Rampart long before Elispeth Petitioned Tasien. Or is it something more?"

"What are you talking about, Rachelle?"

I couldn't stop myself. I was filled with anger. Father once asked me in passing how I could let Tasien take Olexa from me. John wondered why I didn't help Vaughn after he got a letter from his nephew. I felt closed in, surrounded by disapproval. Then to have Joysan sneer at my meetings with Tasien was too much.

"Are you jealous, Joysan? We both know Tasien never showed any interest in you. Do you suppose he never found you interesting because I have two legs and you have only one?" Why did I say that deliberately cruel thing? To make matters worse, I kept on.

"You know what some people say: you trapped Rampart before he had a chance to meet anyone else. After all, your daughter was born so quickly after the Rites of Choosing. I don't believe you deliberately forced Rampart as the rumors go, but I always wondered why he Accepted—"

Joysan's face clouded with shock and humiliation. "You're so bitter and blind you refuse to see the truth—any truth! I will answer one of your accusations—only one!—then I'm to my bedroom to pack. I kept you and Tasien apart when you were younger because he wasn't careful around you. I don't think you remember how many times Elispeth picked you up whenever he was around."

I did. I swallowed hard, embarrassed. But Joysan wasn't through. She furiously rose from the table, momentarily fighting for balance in that odd manner of hers until the knee joint of the artificial leg locked into place. "I will answer one more—the one I never thought you capable of considering!" Her face was an implacable mask, her voice cold as a winter blizzard. "I've never been jealous of you, teela."

The way she said it made me want to crawl into a sisk hole. Joysan leaned on the table and narrowed her eyes, glaring at me.

"If I felt anything at all, Rachelle, it was pity that you'd never know what it was like to run through the grass until you were so winded you fell down. Before the war I knew what that was like. A Kanpe shell took my leg but it didn't remove my joy of living! It didn't make me cold and bitter! I know you don't have to run to experience life — but where are you running?" Joysan went to her room and slammed the door.

She wouldn't open for me, or answer any of my pleas. She was gone in the morning when I woke. I stayed distraught and distracted all through my morning classes and didn't start feeling well until Tasien picked me up for lunch. He made me laugh with some little pleasantry and, suddenly, everything Joysan said was unimportant.

Before we said goodbye after lunch, I extended an invitation to Tasien. "My students are putting on a recital tomorrow night. I'd like you to see them. Will you come if you're still in town?"

"I'd like that, too, Rachelle. At the school?"

"Yes," I smiled with happy anticipation. "Speaking of which, I'll be late!"

5.

Knowing Tasien was somewhere in the crowd of parents and guests made me as nervous as my first school recital last semester. My children performed well, no thanks to their fumbling teacher, and I could tell they were excited by the applause from the audience.

I stayed backstage with the children after the performance, helping the younger ones pack their instruments, sometimes speaking with a proud parent come to get their child. I looked up every time an adult came through the backstage door but I must have had my attention elsewhere at least once, because Tasien was suddenly at my elbow.

"They were wonderful," he said with an approving smile on his handsome face. "I suspect I'll be making gitars for some of them in the near future."

"Do you really think so?" I asked, pleased with his comment. I had always loved getting compliments from Tasien.

"I thought they were very good, Rachelle." His smile was just for me, warm and inviting. "Do you know how much you've grown in talent since I heard you last?"

I flushed, smiling. "Thank you, Tasien. From you that means a lot."

He bent closer, his lips close to my ear. "How long do you need to stay? I brought a picnic dinner. It's out in the car. I thought we'd drive to the park and dine beneath the moons if you'd like."

"That sounds marvelous!" I remember laughing girlishly, holding to his arm. "I really shouldn't leave until the last student has been picked up." I had a sudden inspiration which left me breathless. "Let me see if Kelian will sit with them. I won't be a moment."

Kelian is the school cook who occasionally served beverages and small cakes or pies at the evening recitals. Kelian listened with a smile as I excitedly explained that a dear friend was in town for the evening and would be leaving in the morning. Would she mind watching the children? Kelian chuckled and assured me it would be no inconvenience.

I almost ran back through the hallways to Tasien. Joysan has said I was running to destruction, but what did she know? I was running toward life and happiness, the love for which I yearned so desperately.

I told Tasien the good news and he smiled. "I see you're still playing the gitar Elispeth had me make for your twenty-third Naming Day. Let me have it, Rachelle. I'll load the car and come back for you."

Kelian arrived before Tasien returned so I went to the car myself, meeting him halfway. I felt light-headed, as if I had drunk too much wine. The night was beautiful and warm, with few clouds to block the late spring evening stars. Tasien quietly drove through the city until we reached the stone-arched entrance of Pim River Park. He turned south, taking the river drive which paralleled the broad waterway shimmering under the Dance of the Moons. We passed a number of cars parked near the shore, moving on until Tasien located a quiet area far from other late evening visitors.

The park itself is a beautiful, peaceful place; a memorial to one of the most bitterly-fought allied battles against the Kanpe forces, a battle which ended on these very shores. The past violence of terrible explosions and death lay concealed by the manicured short grass, a soft, sweet-smelling cushion beneath the blanket Tasien spread under a trio of ancient torpal trees which had somehow escaped shell and bomb during that frightful long ago battle. The torpal leaves, silvered by the Dance of the Moons, whispered in the wind.

I listened to the gentle lap of the water on the bank as Tasien served an elegant basket supper. He produced a bottle of wine and stemmed glasses, pouring generous portions for us both. The warm solitude surrounding us so very like my fantasies that I relaxed very quickly, consuming more wine than normal. A short time later, after nibbling food I could not taste because I was too excited to have much appetite, his voice came, light as the wind, floating from his dark silhouette highlighted by the glistening swath of the river.

"Rachelle, the children and I miss you very, very much. The house seems so empty without you."

"Tasien, I—" I was quite giddy from the wine. My emotions ran riot within, yet I said nothing, did nothing because I was suddenly in new territory. I did not know what to do!

Tasien moved closer, putting his arms about me, pressing his lips to my throat. I shivered under his impulsive caress.

"I was out of my mind when Elispeth died, Rachelle. I said things I—I was crazy with grief. I treated you and the children terribly. I hope I can make it up to you somehow." His breath was hot on my throat, his arms tightening with increasing pressure. "I'm not the same ogre who beat Olexa," he said. "I hope you can believe that..."

I would have believed anything at that moment. His lips burned against my skin and his scent filled my nostrils. His hands touched me in ways I had never been touched. I found it difficult to breathe, my lungs strained for air. My head spun wildly a