my short hair and Terran clothes
was as strong as Dominic’s would have been had it not been tempered
by communion. “Ranulf,” Dominic’s voice was mellifluous with
reproach, like honey in hot tea, “the lady, as you can perceive
from her eyes, is gifted, and she has the hunger of the
first
time
.” He draped a long arm across the man’s broad shoulders,
most unusual for a telepath. “Surely you would not wish to add to a
lady’s discomfort.”
The man’s face relaxed at Dominic’s strangely
intimate way of talking. Ranulf’s smile was in some ways more
terrifying than his stern disapproval, but I sensed his
unquestioning trust in his master’s judgment. He bowed curtly to me
as he departed at Dominic’s request, returning soon, followed by
serving women carrying trays of food and drink. I was presented
with an array of cold and hot dishes, a pitcher of water, and a pot
of steaming liquid. The covers were lifted to show me the contents,
then, in fulfillment of the terms Dominic had agreed to, I was left
completely alone. I lifted the lid of the pot and sniffed it. It
smelled like a cross between burned coffee and turpentine. I
decided to stick with the water.
There was far more here than one person could
eat—stews and casseroles, bread and deep-fried morsels, vegetables
and fruits—spicy and savory, or bland and comforting. It all
smelled delicious, and my first bites had the feel in the mouth of
real fat, not substitutes; I supposed the butter and cheese on the
side plates were genuine also. I ate hurriedly, not knowing how
much time I had, tasting some of everything and drinking the entire
pitcher of water.
Just as I decided I must be finished, unable
to fit one more bite in, Dominic came back, having sensed the
moment. “Take your time,” he assured me, seeing me still dithering
over the paper-thin slices of smoked meat. “It is poor hospitality
that forces a guest to rush through a meal.” He noted approvingly
the vast quantity I had ingested. “I see you do not share the usual
Terran antipathy to eating,” he said with admiration.
“I’m always hungry,” I admitted.
You burn it up
, he said,
deliberately touching my mind despite the prohibition.
You are
a bright flame of
crypta. His own fiery gift smoldered between
us until we backed away from the heat.
CHAPTER FOUR
The guards escorted me again to the Sanctum
for the second part of the test. They were becoming familiar faces
to me now, old friends. I exchanged a careful nod with the gifted
one, not wanting to get him in more trouble. Dominic turned in
suspicion, staring icily from me to the nervous man, before
deciding he had nothing to worry about.
Ensconced once more in my place on the dais,
I prepared to face another ordeal. “Forgive me, young lady,”
Viceroy Zichmni said, “I must ask you some impertinent questions,
and you must answer them aloud.”
A clerk had set up a folding table and chair
near Lord Zichmni’s bench, had supplied himself with paper and ink,
and sat pen in hand, waiting to transcribe the forthcoming dialogue
by hand. With no holographic equipment, without even a personal
cube, it was the only way to record the proceedings. The clerk was
doing the job I had been assigned at yesterday’s meeting, I
thought, smiling at him. He stared through me, trained, I suppose,
to act as if he were invisible.
Only now did it occur to me that I had been
hearing and understanding Eclipsian all day, from the moment
Dominic arrived at my apartment. He had used a mix of languages
with me, as seemed best to express his meaning, but here in ‘Graven
Assembly the only language had been Eclipsian.
Had I been speaking Eclipsian?
I
must have been, I decided, or someone would have objected.
Surrounded by the unimpeded thoughts from the audience, with
Dominic’s constant low-level presence in my mind, and with the help
of the earlier communion, it seemed I could converse in the
language the others were speaking.
I nodded my
was as strong as Dominic’s would have been had it not been tempered
by communion. “Ranulf,” Dominic’s voice was mellifluous with
reproach, like honey in hot tea, “the lady, as you can perceive
from her eyes, is gifted, and she has the hunger of the
first
time
.” He draped a long arm across the man’s broad shoulders,
most unusual for a telepath. “Surely you would not wish to add to a
lady’s discomfort.”
The man’s face relaxed at Dominic’s strangely
intimate way of talking. Ranulf’s smile was in some ways more
terrifying than his stern disapproval, but I sensed his
unquestioning trust in his master’s judgment. He bowed curtly to me
as he departed at Dominic’s request, returning soon, followed by
serving women carrying trays of food and drink. I was presented
with an array of cold and hot dishes, a pitcher of water, and a pot
of steaming liquid. The covers were lifted to show me the contents,
then, in fulfillment of the terms Dominic had agreed to, I was left
completely alone. I lifted the lid of the pot and sniffed it. It
smelled like a cross between burned coffee and turpentine. I
decided to stick with the water.
There was far more here than one person could
eat—stews and casseroles, bread and deep-fried morsels, vegetables
and fruits—spicy and savory, or bland and comforting. It all
smelled delicious, and my first bites had the feel in the mouth of
real fat, not substitutes; I supposed the butter and cheese on the
side plates were genuine also. I ate hurriedly, not knowing how
much time I had, tasting some of everything and drinking the entire
pitcher of water.
Just as I decided I must be finished, unable
to fit one more bite in, Dominic came back, having sensed the
moment. “Take your time,” he assured me, seeing me still dithering
over the paper-thin slices of smoked meat. “It is poor hospitality
that forces a guest to rush through a meal.” He noted approvingly
the vast quantity I had ingested. “I see you do not share the usual
Terran antipathy to eating,” he said with admiration.
“I’m always hungry,” I admitted.
You burn it up
, he said,
deliberately touching my mind despite the prohibition.
You are
a bright flame of
crypta. His own fiery gift smoldered between
us until we backed away from the heat.
CHAPTER FOUR
The guards escorted me again to the Sanctum
for the second part of the test. They were becoming familiar faces
to me now, old friends. I exchanged a careful nod with the gifted
one, not wanting to get him in more trouble. Dominic turned in
suspicion, staring icily from me to the nervous man, before
deciding he had nothing to worry about.
Ensconced once more in my place on the dais,
I prepared to face another ordeal. “Forgive me, young lady,”
Viceroy Zichmni said, “I must ask you some impertinent questions,
and you must answer them aloud.”
A clerk had set up a folding table and chair
near Lord Zichmni’s bench, had supplied himself with paper and ink,
and sat pen in hand, waiting to transcribe the forthcoming dialogue
by hand. With no holographic equipment, without even a personal
cube, it was the only way to record the proceedings. The clerk was
doing the job I had been assigned at yesterday’s meeting, I
thought, smiling at him. He stared through me, trained, I suppose,
to act as if he were invisible.
Only now did it occur to me that I had been
hearing and understanding Eclipsian all day, from the moment
Dominic arrived at my apartment. He had used a mix of languages
with me, as seemed best to express his meaning, but here in ‘Graven
Assembly the only language had been Eclipsian.
Had I been speaking Eclipsian?
I
must have been, I decided, or someone would have objected.
Surrounded by the unimpeded thoughts from the audience, with
Dominic’s constant low-level presence in my mind, and with the help
of the earlier communion, it seemed I could converse in the
language the others were speaking.
I nodded my
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