“I am aware of no rule that forbids it,” said Ryana.
“Have you forgotten your vows? ‘...to devote my heart and soul completely to the sisterhood, to devote my energies to the teaching of the disciplines we all hold true, to seek out others like myself and grant them aid and shelter, to cleave to one another above all personal desires and material comfort.’ Those are the vows you took, Ryana.”
“But there is nothing there forbidding marriage or the taking of a mate,” Ryana said.
“Perhaps that is your interpretation,” said Saleen, “but I doubt the high mistress would agree with it. Remember, also, that Sorak was never asked to take those vows, because he is not villichi. And he is no longer a child. He is almost a grown man. Our life is here, at the convent, with our sisters. Sorak is a male—part elf, part halfling. Elves are true nomads and halflings somewhat so. It is in their blood, in his blood. Do you truly believe that Sorak could be happy to remain here the rest of his days? If he should choose to leave, Ryana, there is nothing to prevent him. But you have taken vows.”
Ryana felt a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. “He has never said anything about leaving the convent. He has never even indicated the slightest wish to leave.”
“Perhaps because the time was not yet right,” Saleen said. “Or perhaps because, knowing how you feel, it is a subject he has purposely avoided. He came to us half dead, weak in body and in spirit. Now he is strong in both, and vibrantly alive. He does not need the convent anymore, Ryana. He has outgrown us, and you are the only one who cannot or will not see it. Sooner or later, he must leave to find his own way in the world. What will you do then?”
Ryana did not know what she would do. The possibility of Sorak’s leaving the convent was something she had never even considered, perhaps because, as Saleen suggested, she had been afraid to consider it. She had assumed that she and Sorak would always be together. But what if Saleen was right? The thought of losing him was more than she could bear. Ever since that conversation with Saleen, the uncertainty had been gnawing away at her. Nor was Saleen the only one who had sought to caution her in that regard.
At first, she had tried to tell herself that the others were merely jealous, or that they were somehow threatened by the prospect that she and Sorak might become lovers, but she could not deceive herself that way. She knew her sisters cared for her, just as they cared for Sorak, and had only her best interests at heart. But what did Sorak feel?
Outwardly, nothing in their relationship had changed. She had given him every opportunity to reveal if he felt the same way she did, yet he seemed not to notice her attempts to steer their relationship in a new, more intimate direction. Perhaps, thought Ryana, I have been too subtle. Males, she had been told, were not very perceptive. However, that did not seem to apply to Sorak. He was unusually perceptive, and possessed of a strong intuitive sense. Perhaps, she thought, he has merely been waiting for me to make the first move, to openly declare myself. On the other hand, what if he did not share her feelings? Either way, she could stand the uncertainty no longer. One way or the other, she simply had to know.
“Enough!” cried Tamura, raising her hand and lowering her wooden sword. Both she and Sorak were breathing heavily from their exertions. Neither had managed to score a telling blow. Tamura grinned. “I knew this day would come,” she said. “We are evenly matched. There is no more I can teach you.”
“I find that difficult to believe, Sister,” replied Sorak. “You have always beaten me before. I was merely lucky today.”
Tamura shook her head. “No, Sorak, the past few times we have tried each other’s measure, it was I who have been lucky. I have held nothing back, and you have taken the best that I could give. The pupil has now become the master. You have made me very proud.”
Sorak bowed his head. “That is high praise, indeed, coming from you, Sister Tamura. I am not worthy.”
“Yes, you are,” Tamura said, clapping him on the shoulder.
“For a teacher, there can be no greater satisfaction than to see a pupil surpass her.”
“But I have not surpassed you, Sister,” Sorak protested. “The match was, at best, a draw.”
“Only because I stopped it when I did,” she said with a smile. “I remember all the nasty whacks I gave you while you were still learning, and I did not wish to be repaid in kind!”
The others laughed. They had all felt the sharp crack of Tamura’s wooden sword on more than one occasion, and the thought of her receiving some of her own medicine was tantalizing.
“The lesson is finished for the day,” Tamura said. “You are all free to go bathe.”
The other pupils whooped and ran to put away their practice swords before they raced down to the shaded pool. Only Ryana lingered, to wait for Sorak.
“You two are the best pupils I have ever had,” Tamura said to them. “Either one of you could take over the training of the others now.”
“You are too kind, Sister,” said Ryana. “And Sorak is still the better fighter.”
“Yes, but not by much,” agreed Tamura. “He has a special gift. The sword becomes a part of him. He was born to the blade.”
“You did not seem to think so when I began to study with you,” Sorak said with a grin.
“No, I saw it even then,” Tamura said. “That is why I was so much harder on you than on any of the others. You thought it was because you were a male, but it was because I wanted to bring out your full potential. As for you, little sister,” she added, turning to Ryana and smiling, “I have always known that you resented me because you thought I was being unfair to Sorak. That is why, for all these years, you have worked twice as hard as any of the others. I know you wanted to repay me for all of Sorak’s bruises, and for your own, as well.”
Ryana blushed. “It is true, I must confess. There were times I almost hated you. But I feel that way no longer,” she quickly added.
“And a good thing, too,” Tamura said, reaching out to ruffle her hair playfully, “because you have reached the stage where you could do some damage. I think it is time you two took over the training of the novices. I think you will find, as I have, that teaching has its own rewards. Go on now and join the others, or we shall all have to sit upwind of you at supper time.”
Ryana and Sorak went to put away their practice swords, then they walked down to the gate together, heading toward the pool. A short distance from the entrance to the convent, a thin stream bubbled up from beneath the mountains, cascading down in a waterfall that formed a pool around its base. As Ryana and Sorak approached, they could hear the others shouting as they enjoyed the bracing, ice-cold waters of the pool.
“Let us go this way, Sorak,” said Ryana, beckoning him down a path that led away from the pool, toward a point farther down, where the water flowed over some large rocks in the stream. “I am in no mood to splash and wrestle with the others. I feel like simply lying back and letting the waters engulf me.”
“Good idea,” Sorak said. “I have no energy to frolic either. I am sore all over. Tamura has exhausted me.”
“No more than you have exhausted her,” Ryana replied with a grin. “I felt so proud of you when she said you were the best pupil she ever had.”
“She said we were both the best pupils she ever had,” Sorak corrected her. “Did you really want to pay her back for all my bruises?”
Ryana smiled. “And for my own, as well. But I used to think she singled you out for mistreatment because you are male. I always thought that she resented your presence among us. Now I know better, of course.”
“Yet, there were those who resented my being here, at least in the beginning,” Sorak said.