The Rowan Part 7

'You're a lucky man, Captain Turian,' she said, with a twisted envious smile.

'Why is it, Rowan, that sometimes you seem decades older than you can possibly be?' 'Sometimes, Captain Turian, I am decades older than I should be.' That puzzled him, and she smiled to herself. If naught else works, being enigmatic might.

'We'll have to alter our plans, however, he said, hauling out the sheet and rereading it. 'We haven't a chance of making it back to Favor Bay before those winds arrive And I don't want to be caught on this side of the Islands.

We have a choice, and I'll leave that up to you, mister,' he shot her a challenging glance. 'We can go through the Straits,' he pointed ahead to the fast approaching end of Islay Island, 'and shelter on the lea side of Yona. There's a nice little bay on Yona's Tail. We'll be safe there, and tomorrow we can make our way back. Or we can go back to Islaytown, moor her against the blow, and go ash.o.r.e for the night.'

'You're the Captain.' 'Pa.s.sage through the Straits can be hairy at high tide and that's what we've got.

'The Miraki would be safer on the lea side of the island, though, wouldn't she?' His smile answered her. 'Then it's the Straits.' Her grin answered his challenge.

Turian hesitated a moment longer. Islay Straits at high tide was a testing pa.s.sage. She might have sailed a bit on her holidays, but she wouldn't have encountered the boiling cross currents and riptide.

He'd done it often enough in the Miraki and had complete confidence in his own seamanship and his craft. She wanted an adventure: she was about to get one.

So, when the Miraki rounded the Gut Rocks that bordered the entrance to the Straits, he ordered her into her wet gear and life vest, stopping any argument from her by shrugging into his own.

'Prepare to tack, mister,' he roared at her over the surf pounding the Gut Rocks.

By the time that was done, the Rowan had her first good look at the surf boiling through the Straits.

'We're going through that?' she demanded, and he admired the way she covered the sudden fright she'd experienced.

'You said you had a stomach of iron. I'm testing it) As she made her way back to the c.o.c.kpit, he grinned when he noticed how tightly she kept a hold of the life-rail, and how neatly she balanced in her bare feet against the plunge of the Miraki.

To himself, Turian thought that perhaps this had not been the kindest way to test her seamanship but he was as proud of her courage.

She seemed undaunted until they hit the midpoint, and suddenly the Miraki was cresting a huge wave, plummeting down with stomach-churning abruptness, wallowing in the trough before being flung up again on the next wave.

The girl beside him screamed and he shot a glance at her, her face white as the sheet, eyes distended and staring straight ahead, in the grip of complete terror. He spared one hand from the tiller long enough to haul her as close to him as the tiller between them permitted. He grabbed her rigid hand and placed it under his on the tiller. Then he coiled his right leg around her left one, angling his body to touch hers at as many points as the rough pa.s.sage permitted.

And it wasn't the sea that terrified her. How he knew that he never questioned. This was an old terror, somehow revived by their situation. She was struggling with her fears, struggling with every ounce of her. He kept as close a contact as possible, knew she'd have bruises on her hand from his pressure but that was all he had to rea.s.sure her.

Fortunately, for all the danger, the Straits were not long and though under these conditions, the pa.s.sage seemed to last an unconscionably long time, he was very soon able to veer into the much calmer waters.

'Rowan?' He let go of the tiller for long enough to pull her over on to his knees, holding her tight against him, while he grabbed a line to secure the tiller on the new '05 course. He cranked on the c.o.c.kpit winch to trim the mainsail and then he was free to comfort the shuddering girl. Gently he pushed the wet curls back from her forehead. 'Rowan, what scared you so?' I couldn't help it! It wasn't the Straits. It was the way the ship bounced and rolled and surged. Just like the hopper. I was three. My mother left me in the hopper and it was caught in the flood, bounced about just like that. For days. None came. I was hungry and thirsty and cold and scared.

'It's all right now, girl. We're past it now. Smooth sailing from now on. I promise you!' She made an effort to push him away but Turian knew that she was far from over the shock of that revived terror and he continued to hold her gently but firmly against him. Casting his seaman's eye at wind and water, at the sea room between the Miraki and the sh.o.r.e, he was satisfied with their current course. Lifting the Rowan, light and shivering in his arms, he maneuvered her carefully down into the cabin and laid her down on the bunk. He started the kettle before he removed her life vest and wet gear. Her skin was chilled under his hands so he wrapped her well in a blanket before he made a restorative brew. Liberally lacing that with spirits, he handed it to her.

'You drink that down,' he ordered in an authoritative tone that provoked a slight smile from her as she obeyed.

Then he stripped off his own rough-weather gear, rubbed his hair and shoulders dry before he made himself a similar brew. He sat down on the opposite bunk and waited until she felt like talking.

'The ship?' she asked once between sips, hearing the rush of the hull through the water.

'Don't worry about her.' Her smile was less tentative. 'Don't worry about me, then. I haven't had that particular nightmare in years. But the motion 'Strange what triggers off a bad memory, he said easily 'Catch you unawares out of nowhere. I d.a.m.ned near lost ship and self in a strait similar to that one. Scared me s.h.i.tless and not a clean, dry pair of pants in the locker.

You might say,' and he ducked his head a bit, affecting embarra.s.sment, 'I sort of try myself more often in the Islay Straits just to prove I can't scare any more.

'I'm not sure,' she said slowly but the color was back in her face again, 'that I'd like to go back through today, if you don't mind.'

'Couldn't anyway,' he said with a laugh, and took the empty cup from her. 'Tide's the wrong way right now for the westward pa.s.sage.

'Now, isn't that a pity!' Admiring her resilience, he gave her a mock cuff on the jaw and then tossed a clean towel at her. 'Dry off, change, and get on deck again. You're standing the watch down to Yona's Tail.' Something to do, he was telling himself as he went topside, was much better for her than reliving that old scare. The Rowan was in complete agreement but she couldn't quite shake off her response to his immediate support of her in the depths of renewed terror. He might have mocked her lack of courage: He might as easily have ignored her as a coward but he had read her correctly and given her exactly the physical rea.s.surance she needed and had needed as that three-year-old child.

Old terrors could indeed grab you at the most unexpected moments: this was the first time so much had surfaced past the blocks they had placed on that horrific experience. Her mind might not be allowed to remember but her body had. This time someone had been there to hold her hand.

She dressed in her spare dry clothes, donning the warm sweater against the chill of bones that not even the hot stimulant had dissipated. As she scrubbed her hair dry, she was wryly amused that Turian hadn't realized that her explanation of her terror had been subvocal. But then, so physically close, he didn't even need to be emphatic for her to 'path to him.

His face brightened as he saw her emerge on deck. She smiled back.

'Helm's yours, and he pointed to the compa.s.s setting.

'I'll run up the jib. That way we'll make our anchorage well before dark. I've changed our ETA with the Sea guards so they won't panic but d'you want to tell anyone at Favor Bay that you won't be back till noon?' She shook her head, aware from his obvious thoughts that he wasn't at all disappointed in extending the cruise.

He had an edge of anger for people who had somehow put a three-year-old child in such peril. Turian was beginning to see her not just as another useful pair of hands, a workmate, but as a distinct and interesting personality.

She watched his lithe body as he hoisted the jib, coiled some lines that the rough pa.s.sage had scattered, and generally checked port and starboard on his way back to the c.o.c.kpit. As he settled in the corner of the bench, he squinted at the compa.s.s and then at the sh.o.r.eline.

'Helmsman, set a new course, ten points to starboard.' He raised an arm, pointing toward the distant tip of Yona Island. 'We're making for an anchorage on Yona's Tail.

Come morning, we can set a straight course back to Favor Bay.'

'Aye, aye, sir. Ten points to starboard on a course for Yona's Tail.

And I beg to inquire of Captain, if he brought along enough provisions for a starving sailor.' 'No-one goes hungry aboard the Miraki,' he said with an approving chuckle. 'You can catch as much fish as you can eat, mister, and there's plenty to garnish with.' Thick clouds had begun to darken the skies before they reached the anchorage, a pleasant little crescent bay with a fine sandy beach. Yona was a popular summer resort with hundreds of similar strands along its eastern sh.o.r.e. They were the only vessel in those calm waters for the cradled sailing boats and the sh.o.r.eline dwellings were still in their winter coc.o.o.ns. As soon as the sails were furled, all lines coiled, riding and cabin lights on, Turian broke out fishing gear.

'No bait?' He grinned. 'Drop your line overboard and see what happens.' 'Incredible!' was her reaction as flat fish seemed to leap on to the hook as soon as it dropped below the surface.

'Right time of year for 'em. Always plenty in this bay.

Now, five minutes from sea to plate and eat as much as you can.

The Rowan did for she had never been so hungry, nor appreciated a plain meal more. As she washed plates, pans, and mugs after the meal, she was suffused with an unaccustomed sense of contentment. She was also tired, with a fatigue of body, not mind; that was as soothing as it was soporific.

'Hey, you're asleep on your feet, mister,' Turian said, his voice warm with amus.e.m.e.nt but his brows were slightly puckered in concern.

'I'm all right, now, Turian, really I am. You were marvelous back there. If you'd been in the hopper with me, I wouldn't have been so scared.' At the anger in his face, she held up a hand, 'It wasn't anyone's fault. In fact, I survived because I was in the hopper. The only one who did.' Then she wondered if she'd given away more than she intended. To hear Siglen tell it, everyone on the planet had been aware of her terror. Maybe he'd been at sea. He certainly wasn't insensitive.

'You've no family?' Somehow that distressed Turian most.

'I have very good friends who have cared for me better than family would.' He shook his head. 'Family's best. You can always count on family. Surely you had kin left someplace?' The Rowan shrugged. 'You don't miss what you've never had, you know.' She knew that upset him deeply, a man who knew every one of his blood relatives, to whom family ties were sacred. 'I'll have a family of my own one day,' she said as much as a comfort for his distress and a promise to herself. Maybe that's why Reidinger quizzed her so on the course students: he seemed to dwell more on the boys than the girls. Primes were supposed to form alliances, preferably with other high Talents, to perpetuate their own abilities. Was Earth Prime also a marriage broker?

With that running through her mind, she was unprepared for Turian's embrace. She clamped tightly down on her emotions as his arms enclosed her and drew her tenderly against him. She surrendered to the luxury of being caressed, the feeling of a warm, strong body pressed against her, of gentle hands stroking her head, rubbing up and down her back. She turned her head against his chest and heard a heartbeat, faster than normal and knew that Turian was reacting to his outrage over her orphaned state.

And suddenly the Rowan realized that this was decision time: without meaning to, she had achieved the desired effect on Turian.

With only the slightest mental push, she could.

She didn't have to make a decision. Turian did it for her. A wave of tenderness, tinged only slightly with pity, but mainly comprised of approval for her courage and resilience, emanated from the man. She had never felt so appreciated, so comforted and . . . and wanted. Startled by the intensity of his emotion, she looked up and received his gentle but insistent kiss.

The Rowan had no time to do more than try to reduce the surge of her emotional response to an acceptable level.

The past few hours had awakened many emotions long kept under strict control. To have contained them all would have had serious repercussions. She'd have enough, and so would the unsuspecting Turian, if she wasn't careful. And she didn't want to have to BE careful for once in her life. Sensuality flared into full awareness in mind, heart, and body and as Turian responded, she received his attentions with wholehearted honesty.

He did not expect her to have been untouched and she was aware of both anger at her deception and his inability to slacken the incandescent desire which now consumed him. So she encouraged him with body and mind, with her hands and her lips. The hurt was minimal to the blaze of pa.s.sion that overwhelmed him which she experienced through his mind and touch. She cursed her own inept.i.tude which kept her from matching his release but the glory which awaited her the next time she made love with him was vividly seared in her mind.

The Rowan awoke suddenly, aware that the comforting, warm length of Turian was missing from the narrow bunk on which they had fallen asleep. It hadn't been the gentle slip-slop of waves against the sides of the Miraki which had roused her. It was Turian's mental distress.

He was suffering intense feelings of guilt, self-castigating himself for the loss of control which had resulted in deflowering a virgin, anger with her for what he thought was a studied attempt to seduce him, and a terrible longing to repeat the act of love which had overwhelmed him with its intensity.

The Rowan felt keen remorse for his state of mind.

What had begun for her as half-game, half-challenge had backfired with disastrous effect on an honest man, well content with his work and his life-style. She was little better than Moria!

She rose, dressed rapidly but the cold was pervasive so she wrapped the blanket firmly around her as she quickly made two mugs of a steaming stimulant. Securing the blanket about her with one hand while balancing both mugs with a touch of mental a.s.sistance, she went topside.

Turian was slouched in the c.o.c.kpit in a mind funk, shivering convulsively in a mental and physical chill of devastating proportions.

His mind kept inexorably returning to the intense s.e.xuality of their spontaneous union and his inability to control his partic.i.p.ation.

'We need to talk, Turian,' she said quietly, startling him. She handed him a mug and, throwing part of the blanket over his shoulders, deliberately sat close beside him. 'You've no cause at all to feel guilty about last night.' He shot her a furious glance. 'How do you know how I feel?' 'Why else would you be sitting out on a freezing deck looking as if you'd committed a major crime. Drink up, you need the warmth.' She used the firm tone Lusena often adopted with her and he took a judicious sip.

'Now,' she said firmly, giving it a mental accent, 'let's come to an understanding. I didn't set out to have you seduce me.' He snorted disbelief, hauling the blanket around his right shoulder, but he did not move his chilled body from her warmth. 'But I did want you to stop looking at me as a kid, a young girl, an unperson. I wanted very much for you to see me! Me, the Rowan.' Slowly he turned his head toward her, the whites of his eyes more visible in the dark as they widened in the surprise of recognition.

'I remember that name. I did meet you before. I knew your face was somehow familiar.' 'I was with a party of four, three girls and my guardian, four summers ago. You sailed us about. At the sea gardens, one of the girls, a terrible flirt, got badly stung because she didn't listen to your warning.' 'And you had, and treated the little b.i.t.c.h.'

Then he c.o.c.ked his head a bit. 'How old are you, Rowan?' 'I'm eighteen,' she said, facetiously adding, 'going on eighty. So I'm old enough to have an affair and to know when I should. But honestly, it just happened. I liked helping you fix up the Miraki. It's such a change from the sort of work I do all year long. That alone will make this the most memorable holiday I've ever had, Turian, and last night was pure serendipity. I don't see much of that, I a.s.sure you.

She was reaching him with her quiet explanation, for he was basically a sensible man. A hand, warm from the mug he'd been holding, covered hers. She could feel the tautness of body and mind through that contact and tried to find in his mind a clue to reduce that stress. He was still thinking in a circle that went from her youth to last night's eroticism.

'I've made love to a lot of women since I first learned how but I've never had it quite like you!' He let his breath out heavily.

'Never like that before!' His mind paused once more on that unexpected blazing intensity that caused his frame to tremble at its recall.

'You've about ruined me for anyone else.' He resented that. He liked his affairs short and sweet and uncomplicated, affairs in which he was always the dominant partner and in complete control as he had not been last night.

'Me? the kid, ruining you, Captain Turian?' she asked, with humorous skepticism. 'I doubt that, though that's quite a compliment you've paid me. I'd no idea what to expect once we got started.

You're a marvelously tender lover. Even if I have no other experience for comparison, I could appreciate that. And I know you for an honest, decent, caring man. But ruined? Highly unlikely. You couldn't ever settle to just one woman, or one port and one reach of the Altairian seas. If you want my opinion,' and she had to phrase this carefully or give away her illegal prying into his personal files, 'I don't see you as a family man though your kin mean much to you. But I just can't see you staying on the land to raise kids. The Miraki's wife and child to you. I'm right, aren't I?' She rather hoped her sly cajolery would work and was immensely relieved to feel the shift in his thoughts at her candid remarks. 'Even if we had a chance of some sort of an a.s.sociation, this ship would win and i'd be the one left dry He gave a wry laugh. She knew that he was within an inch of reaching up to ruffle her hair in that casually affectionate gesture, but his mental state was still inhibiting him. She took his hand and laid her cheek against it, to allow a healing anodyne of respect and abiding friendliness to seep through the touching.

'I shall never forget how you comforted me, Turian, coming through the Straits, and that you knew I needed comfort. That was so generous of you and it was a kindliness with which I am totally unfamiliar. It disarmed me completely, you know.' He nodded, understanding at several levels in his mind what she was trying to convey to him.

'What are you really, Rowan?' 'I'm an orphan, I'm eighteen, I'm a Talent, and I serve in Altair's Tower.

She heard the sudden intake of his breath and felt awe color his mental image of her.

'Like Prime Siglen?' For though he knew what Tower personnel did and how they did it, he couldn't quite place his companion in that context.

'Well, I'm not a Prime,' she said with a laugh, hiding the half-truth. 'But it's a lonely job and I've got to isolate myself from the people I work with. I can't be the sort of informal captain you are. Being your crew has been such a marvelous experience all by itself. Working with you to set the Miraki to rights, just the two of us, was as far from my life in the Tower as you can get. I haven't ever had such a wonderful week. I certainly didn't intend to repay your friendship with a s.e.xual imposition.

'Imposition?' He almost shouted at her, and she knew she had struck just the right note. 'I've heard it called many things, but not an imposition!' He gave a bark of laughter and suddenly all the tension and dismay dissolved from his thoughts. 'Imposition, indeed.' The dawn was brightening the sky and she could see the amused expression on his face, echoing the recovery of his mental equilibrium.

'Well, then,' she began in a meek voice though she was emboldened by his resilience, 'without prejudice and seeing that this is a unique opportunity, unlikely to recur, could we impose on each other again?'

'If you've any Talent, Rowan,' and his expression mirrored the desire in his mind, 'you'll know I'd like that more than anything else right now.' Then he smiled, ruffled her hair, and added, 'except perhaps some breakfast to give us both the energy we're going to need.' It was late afternoon when they reached the wharf at Favor Bay. The Rowan could, and did, make certain that an easy companionship had grown up between them on the return voyage. He had talked a good deal about previous voyages around the planet, about his many relations, and, sitting as close to him as possible, she had learned more about her native planet than she had ever thought to know.

They were both silent as they moored the ship and did the final ch.o.r.es, setting the ship to rights, cleaning the galley, but there wasn't much more, or too much, to be said. She stuffed her salty clothes into her backpack, climbed on to the wharf, and collected her cycle. Turian stood in her way for a long moment and she knew he was equally loath for this idyll to end.

'I must leave, Turian. Clear skies and good sailing.' 'Good luck, Rowan,' he said in a low voice, heart and mind reaching out to her but he stepped. aside and she cycled past him, feeling his regret as sharp as her own.

GROUND VEHICLE COLLISION. REPORT IMMEDIATELY. SIGLEN By the time she had cycled up the long hill from the anchorage, she was sweating so it didn't matter if some of what poured down her cheeks happened to be tears. It had been a beautiful interlude. Lusena had been right to suggest it, however obliquely. Would Lusena know what had happened?

Lusena knew just about everything else about her. Such a magical incident would take a lot of camouflage from her eagle-eyed guardian.

Did she really want to cover it all up? Wouldn't Lusena rejoice that she had met such a lovely lover?

She had entered the cottage, slung her backpack down the corridor to the laundry room before the sustained squeal of the answer phone penetrated her self absorption.

There was a sheaf of messages, curling down from the machine to the floor. So many in just thirty-six hours?

'Now what?' The Rowan resented the return of the pressures she had been able to forget. She tore off the final sheet and bundled the whole screed up, settling herself first in a chair before reading any The first, from Lusena, had arrived just after she had left the cottage for the Miraki's journey and announced the triumphant arrival of twin girls and the prognosis of a speedy recovery of their mother from a prolonged and complicated labor. A second, also from Lusena, was a confirmation of Lusena's opinion that both babies had recorded high-potential Talent at birth. The third was her pleasure that Finnan had come to view his nieces and there had been a marvelous family reunion. The fourth was a query from Gerolaman about her lack of response to messages. The fifth which had come in the previous evening was an order from Siglen to contact the Tower immediately. The sixth, and the first words made the Rowan yearn for Turian's supportive presence, burst the fragile bubble of the idyll.

MUST INFORM YOU THAT LUSENA SHEVALLOW AY KILLED IN The dateline was 1220 today as the Miraki had been plowing across the Southerly Current under full canvas through the seas still running high from the previous night's storms. She and Turian had been side by side in the c.o.c.kpit, warm with companionship and shared love.

The tears streamed down the Rowan's face. 'Must inform,' she muttered. 'No regrets, Siglen? No regrets at all that a fine loving woman is gone?' She let grief take her then, vainly searching for a mind touch that was lost forever to her, lost as the comfort of the woman who had cared for her with such dedication. The ache expanded, closing her throat, pushing down into her belly, shoving upward to crowd into her brain and press behind her eyes. Tears flowed and the sobs wracked her body. Turian would comfort her. Surely she had the right to ask that of him. But why involve him in a private grief?

It was something one had to live through; the ache of the heart, the fruitless searching of the mind, and the sorrow of the spirit.

Lusena! Lusena! Lusena!

The comunit's piercing summons was a harsh intrusion.

Irritably, she 'ported the connection open and the screen lit up.

Fortunately it displayed a worried Gerolaman.

'Rowan! Where have you been?' 'I was sailing. We were weathered in last night in a deserted anchorage. I'm only just in the door.

What's happening with. . -' 'Siglen had a fit when the accident report came in. She was positive you were with Lusena and she was in some state.' 'Thought she'd got rid of me, huh?' Gerolaman's scowl reproved her. 'We were all worried, Rowan. Especially after Finnan said you hadn't accompanied her.' 'Bardy needed her mother. She didn't need me hanging about and at eighteen I'm well able to take care of myself for a few days of holiday.' She knew she sounded querilous but she couldn't help it. 'Oh, Gerolaman, Lusena was . 'and she covered her face with her hands, weeping bitterly.

'I know, honey, I know. It won't be the same. It's just that. .

. we didn't know where you were. And you had to know.' 'Siglen herself broke the news.' 'Give her some credit, Rowan,' and Gerolaman's voice was rough, 'she was upset, too. And got worse thinking you might have been killed. Secretary Camella's handling arrangements which is very good of her. Now I know where you are, I'll come and get you.

The Rowan smeared the tears off her cheeks with both hands. 'I appreciate it, Gerry, but there's no need. I'll be there as soon as I can close up this place.' She cut the line before he could protest.

She ignored the comunit while she gathered up her belongings, showered and dressed, phoned the caretaker that she was vacating. From the porch she could make out the Miraki, moored to the wharf. She had that memory at least!