The Earth Goddess by Richard Herley

Author:Richard Herley
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-07-31T15:39:05.291428+00:00

* * *

Once Paoul had escaped from the dining hall – his eyes fixed

firmly on neutral territory – and once he had washed himself and

was in the privacy of his room, he climbed straight into bed,

unable even to consider starting the routine of breathing exercises

which preceded the nightly meditation. For once he would be

undisciplined and let his meditation go. The exercises would

calm him, he knew, and let him examine his experience more

objectively, but that was theory and the Lady Yseld was fact.

And so he immediately snuffed the lamp and pulled the

sheepskin cover across his shoulder, lying not on his back, as he

had been taught, but on his side.

The mattress felt lumpy and prickled his naked skin; the

bedclothes exuded a stale, faintly nauseous smell. From below,

through the thick planking of the floor on which his mattress lay,

came the sound of the banquet. He was not directly above it, but

at a slight remove. Nevertheless he could hear the music and, by

using his hearing as the kars had shown him, by narrowing its

field and singling out individual sounds, he could distinguish

several of the feasters’ voices: he could hear Lord Heite

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proposing a toast. She would be hearing it too, not as a thin,

distant abstraction, but loudly and with all the richness of

presence.

In the next chamber Paoul heard Ilven Gars moving about.

Soon the noises ceased and Paoul knew he had assumed the

meditation posture. He had begun his breathing, counting in

heartbeats for each phase of the fourfold cycle. The first three

cycles were performed to the count of three, the next five by the

count of five, on through the series of sacred numbers: seven,

nine, and, for the experienced, eleven. In the adjoining chambers,

the other priests would be doing the same. Then, for half an hour

or more, their minds would be empty. Sitting very still, breathing

very quietly, eyes half closed, they would no longer be here,

now, in Bohod Thosk’s hall, but everywhere and nowhere, set

free from their bodies and the constraints of time. Paoul wished

he shared their ability. He wished his training had already taken

him further. He wished he were older and able to exert total self

control. Then he would not be so weak and vulnerable and

uncertain.

By the time he again heard sounds from the next chamber,

Paoul had relived the evening over and over again. He could

remember each word she had said, each inflection of her voice,

each nuance of meaning, and he realized that, by complaining

about the smell of the incense, she had spoken of the Prime with

a hint, however veiled and guarded, of disrespect. Her behaviour

had been forward; had she not approached Paoul and spoken

first? Starrad would see no difference between her and the Lady

Atane or the fishmonger’s daughter.

Paoul knew so little about girls, though, that he was prepared

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to accept that he had read her wrongly. He thought he had sensed

in her manner something forced, uncharacteristic, almost

desperate, overlying a deeper sincerity to which he had

intuitively responded. Even before the exchange of names, it now

seemed, their eyes had confirmed and begun to explore a mutual

attraction which yesterday had existed only in Paoul’s wildest

conjectures.

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