"Paraphysical forces working on an unaccepted plane of energy," she said evenly. "But, if we don't accept it, how can it affect us?"
"An apple may not accept the concept of gravity," he said. "But it falls just the same."
Lallia took a cup of basic, drank and looked thought shy;fully into the empty container. "Prayer," she said. "I've done enough of it in the past. When I was a girl I prayed all the time for someone to take me away from the farm. Do you know what it's like working on a farm? We had no machines so I had to be up well before dawn and didn't get to bed until long after dark. The best I could hope for was for some man to marry me and take me back to his place and there work me to death. Well, that didn't happen. A young aristo saw me while out hunting and liked the way
I was built. I played up to him and he enjoyed his new toy. By the time he had tired of me I was safe off the farm." She looked at Dumarest. "Safe but in trouble. Rochis isn't a gentle world and an unprotected woman is anyone's sport. Do I have to tell you what happened then?"
Dumarest took the empty cup from her hand. "You don't have to tell me anything. The past doesn't matter."
"No," she said, and drew a deep breath. "Let's just say that I've knocked around. Anyway, I moved on the first ship I could get. I guess I've been moving ever since. Mov shy;ing and looking for a thing called happiness. It isn't easy to find."
Dumarest handed her another cup of basic. "Drink this."
"I'll drink it." Her eyes were bright as she searched his face. "Earl! Do you know what I'm trying to say?"
"Drink your basic."
"To hell with it!" She slammed the cup down and circled him with her arms. "I'm telling you that I love you. That I've never known what love was before. That I can die hap shy;py knowing that we are together."
Dumarest lifted his hand and stroked the rich mass of her hair. He knew what she wanted him to say. "I love you, Lallia."
"You mean that?" Her arms tightened, pressed him close. "You really mean it?"
"I mean it."
"Then I've found it," she said. "Happiness, I mean. Earl, you'll never regret it. I'll be all the woman you could ever want. I'll-" She broke off as the ship gave a sudden lurch. "Earl?"
"It's nothing," he said quickly. "Opposed energies, per shy;haps, or the touch of atmosphere. Hurry now, do as I told you."
He left the cabin as the ship jerked again, the fabric shrilling as if the Moray was in actual, physical pain.
IX
they landed badly, hitting a range of low hills, bouncing over rock and scree, tearing a broad swathe through snow-laden trees before coming to a halt at the bottom of a shallow ravine. From the plateau beyond Nimino looked back at the column of smoke which marked the funeral pyre of the Moray.
"My books," he said. "My holy objects and sacred charms. Gone, all of them."
"They served their purpose," said Dumarest. "At least you are still alive." He glanced to where Yalung and the woman stood, shapeless in bundled garments, ankle-deep in azure snow. "We are alive," he corrected. "Your prayers and sup shy;plications must have been effective."
But not for the ship and not for its captain. Sheyan was dead, his blood and flesh mingled with the metal of the crushed vessel, charring now beneath the searing heat of re shy;leased energies.
Yalung stirred, stamping his feet in the freezing snow. "Where are we?" he demanded. "What is the name of this world?"
"Shrine."
Dumarest looked at the navigator, remembering those he had seen at the carnival. "Then there is a settlement here. Ships and men to aid us."
Nimino shook his head. "No settlement, Earl. Shrine is a peculiar world. It is a place which is regarded by many as being holy. They come here hoping for a miracle to cure their deformities and many have their hopes realized. There is a sacred place protected by strange guardians. Ships call and leave but there is no town and no commerce."
Lallia said, "How do you know all this?"
"I was here once, many years ago, soon after I entered the Web. Often I suggested to Sheyan that he use the Moray as a pilgrim vessel but always he refused. The vessel was too small, the cost of conversion too high; a larger crew would have been needed together with medical personnel." Nimino looked to where the column of smoke climbed into the violet sky. "Well, he is here now and will stay here. The manipula shy;tions of fate often contain a strange irony."
"You helped him plot the course," said Dumarest. "What happened towards the end? Did he try to land near the settlement?"
"I told you, my friend, there is no settlement." The naviga shy;tor beat his hands together, vapor pluming from his mouth. "And I left him long before we hit the atmosphere. But he would have tried to land us close to the field. He was a good captain," he added. "But for him we would still be in space, drifting wreckage or fused metal, we could even have fallen into a sun. He gave us life."
Dumarest looked at the sky, the surrounding terrain. The feeling of impotent helplessness of the past few hours was over now that he was back among familiar dangers. Cold and hunger and the peril of beasts. The need to survive and to escape from their present situation.
He glanced at the sky again. The sun was small, a ball of flaring orange rimmed with the inevitable corona, hang shy;ing low in a bowl of violet. The ground towards the hills was thick with snow, the soft carpeting broken by shrubs and mounded trees. Turning he looked towards the plateau. The snow continued, broken in the far distance by un shy;familiar trees. They were tall and bulbous, set wide apart and each ringed with a circle of darkness. Beyond them the air held a peculiar shimmer.
Lallia shivered as a rising wind blew azure flecks into her face. "Earl, I'm cold."
Dumarest ignored the comment. To Nimino he said, "You were here before. What is the weather like? How low does the temperature fall?"
"I was at the sacred place," said the navigator. "Not out in the wilds. There the temperature is that of blood."
Warm air rising to meet upper layers of frigid cold would produce such a shimmer as lay beyond the trees. And Sheyan would have tried to put them down close. It was possible and yet, how in this wilderness could a place be so warm?
The wind strengthened a little, a flurry of snow streaming from the hills like azure smoke from a fire thick with ash.
"We had best find shelter," said Yalung. "The sun is set shy;ting and the cold will increase." He looked at the column of smoke, bent now, a ragged plume marring the sky. "The trees, perhaps?"
The shimmer lay beyond, it was the right direction.
"Yes," said Dumarest. "The trees."
They were further than he had guessed. In the clear air distance was hard to judge and it was growing dark by the time they reached the vicinity of the unfamiliar growths. He paused as they neared them, looking up at the soaring trees, alert for signs of aerial life. He saw nothing. Only the bulbous trunks spiked with a multitude of bristle-like protu shy;berances. Leaves, he thought, or branches, or protective spines like those on a cactus. The dark rings beneath them were areas clear of snow, a thick, springy grass showing a dull brown in the fading light.