Read Online Sharra's Exile by Marion Zimmer Bradley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley
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“Can’t you reason with her?”
But Lerrys stood regarding his sister with admiration. “That’s the spirit, Dio! What is the good of being on an alien planet in a civilized Empire, if you keep the provincial spirit and customs of your backwater? Do what you like, Dio. Geremy, let her alone!”
Geremy shook his head, angry, but he was laughing too. “You too! Always one in mind, as if you had been born twins!”
“Certainly,” said Lerrys. “Why, do you think, am I a lover of men? Because, to my ill-fortune, the only woman I have ever known with a man’s spirit and a man’s strength is my own sister!” He kissed her, laughing. “Enjoy yourself, breda , but don’t get hurt. He may have been on his good behavior last night, or even in a romantic mood, but I suspect he could be savage.”
“No.” Suddenly Geremy was sober. “This is no joke. I don’t want you to see him again, Diotima. One evening, perhaps, to do courtesy to our kinsmen; I grant you that, and I am sorry if I implied it was more than courtesy. But no more, Dio, not again. Lerrys said as much last night, when he wasn’t devilling me! If you don’t think I have your good at heart, certainly you know Lerrys does. Listen to me, sister; there are enough men on this planet to dance with, flirt with, hunt with—yes, damn it, and to lie with too, if that’s your pleasure! But let Kennard Alton’s half-caste bastard alone—do you hear me?
I tell you, Dio, if you disobey me, I shall make you regret it!”
“Now,” said Lerrys, still laughing, as Dio tossed her head in defiance, “you have made it certain, Geremy; you have all but spread the bridal bed for them! Don’t you know that no man alive can forbid Dio to do anything?”
In the hunting preserve next day, they chose horses, and the great hawks not unlike the verrin hawks of the Kilghard Hills. Lew was smiling, good-natured, but she felt he was a little shocked, too, at her riding breeches and boots. “So you are the Free Amazon you said you were not, after all,” he teased.
She smiled back at him and said, “No. I told you why I could never be that.” And the more I see him , she thought, the more sure I am of it . “But when I ride in the riding-skirts I would wear on Darkover, I feel like a housecat in leather mittens! I like to feel free when I ride, if not, why not stay on the ground and embroider cushions?”
“Why not, indeed?” he asked, smiling, and in his mind, painless for once, she saw, reflected, a quick memory of a laughing woman, red-headed, riding bareback and free over the hills…The picture
slammed shut; was gone. Dio wondered who the woman had been and felt a faint, quick envy of her.
Lew was a good rider, though the lifeless artificial hand seemed to be very much in his way; he could use it, after a fashion, but so clumsily that she wondered if, after all, he could not have managed better one-handed. She would have thought that even a functional metal hook would have been more use to him. But perhaps he was too proud for that, or feared she would think it ugly. He carried the hawk on a special saddleblock, as women on Darkover did, instead of holding it on his wrist as most hillmen did; when she looked at it, he colored and turned angrily away, swearing under his breath. Again Dio thought, with that sudden anger which Lew seemed able to rouse in her so quickly, why is he so sensitive, so defensive, so self-indulgent about it? Does he think most people know or care whether he has two hands, or one, or three ?
The hunting preserve had been carefully landscaped and terraformed to beautiful and varied scenery, low hills which did not strain the horses, smooth plains, a variety of wild life, colorful vegetation from a dozen worlds. But as they rode she heard him sigh a little. He said, just loud enough for her to hear,
“It is beautiful here. But the sun here—is wrong, somehow. I wish—” and he closed off the words, the way he could close off his
But Lerrys stood regarding his sister with admiration. “That’s the spirit, Dio! What is the good of being on an alien planet in a civilized Empire, if you keep the provincial spirit and customs of your backwater? Do what you like, Dio. Geremy, let her alone!”
Geremy shook his head, angry, but he was laughing too. “You too! Always one in mind, as if you had been born twins!”
“Certainly,” said Lerrys. “Why, do you think, am I a lover of men? Because, to my ill-fortune, the only woman I have ever known with a man’s spirit and a man’s strength is my own sister!” He kissed her, laughing. “Enjoy yourself, breda , but don’t get hurt. He may have been on his good behavior last night, or even in a romantic mood, but I suspect he could be savage.”
“No.” Suddenly Geremy was sober. “This is no joke. I don’t want you to see him again, Diotima. One evening, perhaps, to do courtesy to our kinsmen; I grant you that, and I am sorry if I implied it was more than courtesy. But no more, Dio, not again. Lerrys said as much last night, when he wasn’t devilling me! If you don’t think I have your good at heart, certainly you know Lerrys does. Listen to me, sister; there are enough men on this planet to dance with, flirt with, hunt with—yes, damn it, and to lie with too, if that’s your pleasure! But let Kennard Alton’s half-caste bastard alone—do you hear me?
I tell you, Dio, if you disobey me, I shall make you regret it!”
“Now,” said Lerrys, still laughing, as Dio tossed her head in defiance, “you have made it certain, Geremy; you have all but spread the bridal bed for them! Don’t you know that no man alive can forbid Dio to do anything?”
In the hunting preserve next day, they chose horses, and the great hawks not unlike the verrin hawks of the Kilghard Hills. Lew was smiling, good-natured, but she felt he was a little shocked, too, at her riding breeches and boots. “So you are the Free Amazon you said you were not, after all,” he teased.
She smiled back at him and said, “No. I told you why I could never be that.” And the more I see him , she thought, the more sure I am of it . “But when I ride in the riding-skirts I would wear on Darkover, I feel like a housecat in leather mittens! I like to feel free when I ride, if not, why not stay on the ground and embroider cushions?”
“Why not, indeed?” he asked, smiling, and in his mind, painless for once, she saw, reflected, a quick memory of a laughing woman, red-headed, riding bareback and free over the hills…The picture
slammed shut; was gone. Dio wondered who the woman had been and felt a faint, quick envy of her.
Lew was a good rider, though the lifeless artificial hand seemed to be very much in his way; he could use it, after a fashion, but so clumsily that she wondered if, after all, he could not have managed better one-handed. She would have thought that even a functional metal hook would have been more use to him. But perhaps he was too proud for that, or feared she would think it ugly. He carried the hawk on a special saddleblock, as women on Darkover did, instead of holding it on his wrist as most hillmen did; when she looked at it, he colored and turned angrily away, swearing under his breath. Again Dio thought, with that sudden anger which Lew seemed able to rouse in her so quickly, why is he so sensitive, so defensive, so self-indulgent about it? Does he think most people know or care whether he has two hands, or one, or three ?
The hunting preserve had been carefully landscaped and terraformed to beautiful and varied scenery, low hills which did not strain the horses, smooth plains, a variety of wild life, colorful vegetation from a dozen worlds. But as they rode she heard him sigh a little. He said, just loud enough for her to hear,
“It is beautiful here. But the sun here—is wrong, somehow. I wish—” and he closed off the words, the way he could close off his
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