The Temple of the Sun Page 18

  She knew she was succeeding when the terrible pain began to return to her body. She almost wavered then and backed away but her training stood by her and she forced herself to go on and feel all that she had felt before, hear all that she had heard before. This time she recognised the other sound, the sound of thundering hooves.

  The Island of the Bulls!

  Her friend, the beautiful acrobat.

  For a few moments her mind was in complete disorder as she tried to cope with the emotions of worry and fear for her friend, and the decision as to what to do.

  The Lord Khu-ren this night was on work of great importance in another country. He had entered the powerful northern inner circle of the Temple at sunset and must not be disturbed until dawn. It would be dangerous both for him and for the situation he was at this moment helping in his ‘spirit’ form.

  She alone must help her friend.

  She pulled her long woollen cape around her and left the room of sleeping people. She entered the great circle of the Temple.

  She held her sea urchin talisman tightly in one hand, asking for power to ‘travel’ and her faience beads she touched for comfort with her other hand. Her forehead she laid against the stone in the outer circumference of the circle that held special significance for her.

  The night was very dark and she felt very much alone.

  ‘I must not be afraid,’ she told herself. ‘fear will prevent my travelling.’

  And indeed while she thought about herself and her fear she stayed where she was, but when she started to think about the girl, the force of her affection for her made her forget herself, and suddenly she was no longer in the Temple of the Sun.

  * * * *

  She was in a high walled room in the palace on the Island of the Bulls, wall paintings flickering in the firelight of torches, her beautiful friend lying very still and covered in blood upon a cold slab of stone.

  Around the walls people were gathered weeping, but near her two priests of her own culture were working upon her, one washing the blood away from the wounds, the other sprinkling herbs into the cleaned gashes and uttering incantations.

  Kyra moved forward to stare down upon the pale face of the girl. The people in the background showed no sign that they had noticed her arrival or were aware of her presence. Only the two priests reacted in amazement at the sight of her.

  In appearance she was very different from the people of their land. Her long cloak of fine gold hair flowing loose made her appear to them like a shining being from another realm.

  Bowing slightly, they retreated, and it was clear to her they now expected her to save the girl.

  As soon as she had established that the life-force had not yet left the bodily sheath entirely, she indicated to the priests that the mourning, miserable people were to leave. This they did at once, though under protest.

  When the room was clear except for the two priests who stood well out of the way and projected only confidence, Kyra leant over her friend again.

  Remembering how Maal’s little stone sphere of power placed upon his chest had revived the pumping of his heart when it had almost stopped, Kyra now placed her sea urchin talisman between the girl’s breasts, folded her limp hands over it and then placed her own hands upon the girl’s forehead. All that she had learned about healing came to her now. Her love for the girl and her longing for her recovery, gave impetus to the forceful flow of life that she willed through herself to the pale form that lay before her.

  When she could see the pumping of her heart was gradually becoming stronger, she began to massage her limbs, forming a strong visualisation of the acrobat refreshed and renewed, energetic and healthy again. At the same time she never ceased to will the force of life to flow through her.

  When she was sure the immediate danger of death was over, she looked to see what the wounding of the bull’s harsh horns had done to her. She found deep gashes and broken bones.

  She called the priests back to her side and asked for clean cloth, more water and more healing herbs.

  Together they staunched the bleeding, set the bones, bound the wounds with clean linen and healing herbs.

  And only when this was done did Kyra dare to remove the talisman of power and call the girl to wakefulness.

  As she opened her eyes and saw Kyra’s loving face above her, she smiled a very small but very happy smile.

  ‘I called you,’ she said, and shut her eyes again.

  Kyra dismissed the priests and sat beside her friend, holding her hands, loving her.

  Kyra was moved and touched that she had been called. It would have been more likely that she would have called one of the great Lords of the Sun, of which, after all, she was one.

  ‘No,’ the girl whispered, as though Kyra had spoken this aloud. ‘I wanted you. I wanted to show the Lord Khu-ren that you could do it.’

  Kyra looked her surprise.

  ‘Ah yes,’ the girl smiled wanly, ‘I have loved him too. But that was long ago. I did not wish to give up the excitement of my life here and so I let him go. It was meant to be. You and he are for each other. I have seen it and I accept it.’

  Kyra did not know what to say.

  The girl shook her head very slightly. It still pained her greatly to move in spite of the numbing herbs.

  ‘Nothing,’ she breathed. ‘Say nothing.’

  Kyra sat still holding her hands, feeling all that was between them and between them both and the Lord Khu-ren.

  So here was yet another strange thread she had not been aware of in the fabric of her life.

  ‘I will sleep now,’ the girl whispered at last. ‘You must go. I will be all right now.’

  ‘What about...?’ Kyra did not like to say anything about her future as an acrobat, but the thought came unbidden and the girl caught it.

  Again she moved slightly. This time it was almost a shrug of the shoulders.

  ‘My name is Quilla, which means in my language, “flight”,’ she said.

  Kyra leant forward and kissed her on her forehead.

  ‘You will fly again,’ she said gently. ‘And I will visit you again.’

  ‘Who knows,’ and here Quilla’s lips formed a smile with a touch of mischief in it. ‘I may come to your wedding!’

  Kyra smiled too, also with a hint of mischief in her eyes.

  ‘You are welcome!’

  On that warm note they parted, Quilla to sleep and Kyra to find herself in the anxious arms of Khu-ren who had returned at early dawn from his exhausting night of ‘spirit-travelling’, to find Kyra lying in a dead faint on the cold dewy grass beside one of the stones of the great circle.

  When he had taken her home and warmed her and scolded her roundly for being there at all, he listened to her story with great interest.

  When she had finished, he sat so gravely thinking that Kyra began to grow alarmed.

  ‘Is it her you really love?’ she burst out at last.

  He looked at her as though she had said something stupid and childish.

  She felt stupid and childish.

  But when he took her in his arms and covered her with the warm fur of his sleeping rugs she felt very different.

  * * * *

  When Kyra had first entered the class of ‘spirit-travelling’ she had made amazing progress, partly because she had had some experience before, and partly because she was determined to master it as fast as she could.

  But after this time with Quilla, both Khu-ren and Kyra began to notice a disturbing thing. She tended to faint a great deal during and after ‘travelling’ and many times failed to achieve separation from her body in spite of every sign that she was doing it right.

  She managed two visits to the Island of the Bulls before it became too obvious for them to ignore that something was wrong.

  Quilla was healing slowly but surely. Her quicksilver personality was impatient to be at her old trade, but there was no way she could be allowed to, or even be capable of it, for a long time.

  ‘I ha
ve always been short on patience,’ she said gloomily, ‘and now I suppose I willhave to learn it!’

  It was after this visit that Kyra took so long to come out of a faint and felt so ill when she did that Khu-ren decided to think seriously about allowing her to go on at all with her training.

  She was in despair.

  It mattered so much to her to marry Khu-ren, and she was as determined now, as he had originally been, that they would not marry unless they could work together as well.

  ‘Perhaps your real role in life is to be a healer,’ suggested Fern when Kyra poured out all her troubles to her, ‘and not one of the Lords of the Sun at all.’

  But Kyra would not accept this.

  ‘I know I can “travel”. I know it is in “travelling” I can be of most use to Khu-ren and my fellow beings.’

  ‘But you cured your friend Quilla...’

  ‘But I “travelled” to do it!’

  Fern sighed. She was very fond of Kyra and knew how she felt.

  And then her own new baby stirred inside her body and Fern looked at Kyra with wide eyes.

  ‘You are with child!’ she almost shouted.

  Kyra looked astounded, and then she remembered the night when Khu-ren had told her the full story of Guiron and Isar and she had not returned to her own sleeping place.

  The two girls stared at each other.

  The realization of what this meant slowly dawned on Kyra.

  The joy that she first felt to be carrying his child turned to despair as she realized she would now have to give up all thoughts of ‘travelling’ and being his equal and his wife.

  ‘I will not chain him to me with this child! Oh Fern! What am I to do!’

  Fern held her silently in her arms, as once Kyra had held her.

  ‘There must be a meaning in it, my love, there must be a way!’ she said gently.

  ‘What meaning? What way?’ sobbed Kyra.

  Fern stroked her hair.

  ‘How many times did Maal tell us there is no way in the confines of our bodily existence that we can see enough of the picture to know what the meaning is?’

  ‘I know ... I know ... but...’

  ‘But this has happened now. It is a child of love at least.’

  And Kyra felt a twinge of shame to be so complaining to Fern when Fern’s child had been forced on her in fear and hate, and she had carried it bravely and cherished it with love.

  Yes, her child was certainly a child of love.

  It would change the course of her life, but who was to say this change was not meant to be.

  ‘You will speak to the Lord Khu-ren about it?’ Fern asked after a while, when Kyra was calmer.

  Kyra hesitated.

  ‘Yes!’ Fern said firmly.

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Kyra.

  * * * *

  When Kyra left Fern she knew that she must walk and think alone for a while before she faced her Lord.

  Without realizing it she found herself following the tracks that led to the Haunted Mound and the one-time Lake. So deeply was she engrossed in thought that she had climbed the mound before she realized it and was sitting on the top gazing at nothing, her thoughts all of the child within her and what role it would play in the world when it was released from her body.

  She felt at peace now as though Fern were right.

  It was meant to be and its influence would be for good.

  She began to feel very drowsy and very happy.

  She noticed a flight of waterfowl across the sky and heard the splash as they landed on the lake.

  Smiling, she looked down at the shining waters and the birds swimming elegantly beside the reeds. She picked up a pebble and threw it hard so that it reached the water and she watched the circles as they grew out from the central impact.

  And then the warm peacefulness of the scene began to change and she felt a little cold. She noticed mist was beginning to gather on the far side of the lake and drift across towards her.

  ‘I must go,’ she thought, but she was so happy and comfortable where she was she did not move.

  She lay back and watched the drifting clouds pass by for a long while and then told herself again that she must go.

  She sat up and noticed with some alarm that the mist had completely covered the lake now and was creeping up the mound on which she was seated.

  Startled, she stared into the uncertain moving cloud, and saw the faint figure of a woman emerging towards her.

  For what might have been an instant or a million sun cycles the two women stared at each other, Kyra and the beautiful wife of the long dead King. And then with a sharp intake of breath Kyra realized where she was and what was happening.

  She jumped to her feet, a sharp pang of fear stabbing through her heart.

  ‘There is no lake!’ she cried aloud. ‘No water birds swimming on water, no mist, no beautiful living Queen!’

  And with that cry the whole scene changed and she was alone and frightened on the mound, with a dry plain beside her, and a cloudless sky above her.

  She scrambled down the slope as fast as she could.

  What further role these ancient actors were to demand of her she did not wish to think about.

  Khu-ren was almost knocked down by the force with which she flung herself upon him as he emerged from the Temple.

  He tried to hold her off and steady her at least until they could reach a place of greater privacy, but she was in such a state of perturbation he could do nothing but put his arm about her and lead her boldly off in front of everyone.

  So disturbed was she that the story came out backwards and the news about the lady of the lake came before the news that Kyra was with child.

  Khu-ren was bewildered at first, but eventually made sense of it all.

  ‘So,’ he said calmly. ‘We are to have a child.’

  ‘Yes!’ shouted Kyra as though he should have grasped this point a long time ago.

  ‘This probably explains why you have not been too successful with your “travelling”,’ he said with maddening self-control.

  ‘Forget the “travelling”!’ cried Kyra in exasperation, her own feelings in the matter having changed since she had spoken to Fern. ‘That is not important! What is important is that our love has given us a child!’

  ‘Hmm,’ he said, but he could not keep the act up much longer and when she threw something at him his face broke into the expression of delight he was really feeling.

  * * * *

  ‘I have decided everything,’ Kyra said later. ‘I refuse to let this interfere in any way with your life.’

  He looked at her and laughed.

  ‘And how do you propose to manage that, my love?’

  ‘Well, I will leave the Temple and become an ordinary mother living in Fern’s village. You will continue with your work here as though nothing has happened ... but, perhaps ... you will visit us from time to time?’ Her voice had started very briskly on this proposal but by the end it had trailed off somewhat into a kind of pleading query.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, his dark eyes sparkling with mockery. ‘That is very kind of you.’

  ‘Seriously...’ she said.

  ‘Seriously?’ and he laughed again.

  ‘Well...’ she began to wriggle a bit with embarrassment. ‘What do you suggest then?’ She demanded at last, quite flushed.

  ‘I suggest we marry. No!’ he said and put his finger to her lips to stop her interrupting. ‘Listen for once. You will leave your studies for a while and when you are ready to take them up again we will continue with them until you join me as Lord of the Sun.’

  ‘But...’

  ‘Our child will live within the Temple community and have great advantages. If he shows signs of power he will be trained as priest. If not he will choose whatever else he wishes to do...’

  ‘But ... how will I look after him properly if I am working as a priest?’

  ‘You will find a way.’

  ‘You make it sound easy.’

 
‘It will not be easy. I do not promise you that. We will have strains upon us that at times will be hard to bear, and he will have pressures that perhaps a child in an ordinary family would not have ... but ... I am sure for all that he would not wish that he had not been born, nor us that we had not brought him into life.’

  ‘And what of the others?’

  ‘What others?’

  ‘Other children if we marry?’

  Khu-ren was silent for a while.

  ‘We have started on a course we both knew we should avoid. We did not avoid it. Now we must follow it through and make of it what we can.

  ‘If it means giving up everything we expected of life, then that is how it must be. There are many ways to live a life and there is no going back now.’

  She was silent at last.

  He was wise, and she loved and trusted him.

  14

  Wardyke’s War

  Kyra slipped into the new way of living quickly and more easily than she had thought she would.

  She left the classes of ‘spirit-travelling’, but there were a great many other things she still needed to learn and for some of them she joined her old friends Lea and Vann again. Both had been inaugurated as village priests and both had chosen to remain at the Temple for further training. Most of their original class had left and the three grew closer together than ever before.

  Her husband had a great deal to do but they had many times of tenderness and peace together.

  The Lord Guiron had blessed their marriage in a formal but simple ceremony, but Kyra could not shake off the feeling that he had some kind of premonition or foreboding about it. His words almost took the form of a spell to avoid harm rather than of the usual marriage blessing, and she noticed him many times looking at her in a strange, gloomy and penetrating way.

  She tried not to worry but knowing the extent of his powers as a prophet and priest, she was very ill at ease and found herself trying to avoid his presence.

  As the child came nearer to birth she had to face another problem.

  Day after day she had an overwhelming longing to visit the Haunted Mound and the site of the old lake. She was determined not to go there again after her last experience, but she had to fight something in herself to stay away.