So it had had to be the temple-the one offering they could not simply claim offhand, the one bargain she could hold them to. She had cried, not so much for herself as for her loss of him. She had known, via the temple grapevine, that he had settled into a mundane task, and she suffered to imagine how that demeaned him while she thrilled to believe that he missed her as she missed him. Sweet girlish dreams, nonsensical but essential She even fancied that he watched her from time to time romantically, that he might even challenge the god Minos for her.
And then be had come, just when she was resigned to her violent demise. And she had told him no, crying yes! inside, and pushed him away while yearning for his embrace. For it was her commitment that had saved him, and it would have been a denial of it all bad she reniged at the end. And she bad watched him go into the labyrinth, and condemned herself for her idealistic folly.
"If ever I see him again alive," she had sworn to herself as she stood chained and helpless, "I shall clasp him to me and tell him I love him." But it had been the abandoned conviction of desperation.
Yet it had happened.
And somehow, from that moment, she had ceased to understand him. She was woman now, ready and able to accept him as man, and the proof had been made. Still he treated her as child. Why-when they had already made spectacular love? Why did he withdraw when she approached? Why had he stayed two years, retaining his bracelet, and come for-her arid taken her-only to Ignore her offerings now?
She had gone along, powerless to change the situation.
And gradually she discovered that she had changed, not he-and that he did not realize this. Not quite. Vat was naive~ He had begun his journey with a child, and in his mind he still traveled with a child. Apparently he did not comprehend what had happened on New Crete. In his eye, she would always be child.
Then, just as she was adjusting to that situation, a raiding party had caught her unaware and brought her here. At first she thought Var was dead; then she learned that he had arranged it. Her fury had lasted for weeks.
Until it occurred to her that she could emerge from this inane purgatory a woman-in his estimation. He wanted her here so that he could officially accept the transition that had already taken place. So that he could present her his bracelet honorably.
That changed her attitude. She discovered that there was a good education to be had here. The matrons were rigorous but sincere, and they knew a great deal of value. Soli perfected her reading ability in the symbols of this continent and mastered other disciplines she had hardly been aware existed. Most important, she became adept at female artistries that would twist and remold the impetus of almost any male. This, indeed, was as intricate a combat as any with weapons, and as potentially rewarding.
Var had some surprises coming.
Now she had been betrothed-against her will-to the emperor Ch'in. It was an advantageous liaison, no question of that. His very name emulated the founding dynasty of this realm, thousands of years before the Blast-or so the local mythologies had it. No doubt Ch'in's public relations department had had a hand in that. But her studies had also pin-pointed Ch'in for what he was: a pompous, arrogant, middle-aged prince with the supreme good fortune to have a loyal tactical genius for an adviser. Thus Ch'in could sate himself in ever-younger distaff flesh while his masterfully managed empire expanded. Many women were flattered - to attract his roving eye and to join his luxurious harem; Soli was not. She had long since chosen her man, and she was not readily diverted.
But there remained the problem of foiling Ch'in while snaring Var. She had confidence in her ability to do either-but not to do them simultaneously.
Var had come to her at last, barely before graduation but, manlike, he had bungled it. He had tried to scale the wall, and had been intercepted by Ch'in's minions and questioned and deported. They might have castrated him had they been certain of his purpose. She bad asked the head matron to intercede, and that stern, kindly, courageous woman had obliged. So Var had been reprieved of his folly and set down in another territory, unharmed, with money. He would be safe for the time being, so long as he did nothing else foolish.
Still she slept fitfully. For the situation was by no means tied up neatly, and many things could go wrong. She had not yet decided how to deal with Ch'in. If she simply re-fused to oblige him, she might find herself kidnapped and ravished and murdered. The emperor bad an infamous temper, especially when his pride was bruised. And the school would suffer too, perhaps harshly. No-an outright balk would not be expedient.
She could give Ch'in a gala wedding night, then spin a tearful tale of frustrated love. A proper appeal to his protective vanity might work wonders, particularly If the suggestion of political advantage were not too subtle. A romantically enhanced image would mitigate the effect of certain crude military policies, such as dethumbing valiant prisoners and selling them to gladiatorial arenas. Not that Ch'in was the only offender, the practice was general, but still it rankled. Image was very important here.
Yes, the wedding ploy seemed best. She could always run away, after a reasonable interval, if her plan didn't work. That way the school would not be blamed. Then she could locate Var and bring him to terms.
Except-she was not sure of Var. Oh, she could bring out the male in him, no question of that. But she distrusted his common sense. She could not assume that he would not do anything foolhardy. He might get tardily jealous and make some blundering move against Ch'in, or even come back to the school before graduation. Var just was not bright about such things, and he could be preposterously stubborn. His defiance of Minos had been incredible folly.
And of course that was why she loved him.
Maybe she had been wrong to encourage him to seek the Chinese Helicon. There was one, somewhere, but they were obviously not at all close to it. Probably its underworlders were fully as secretive as those of the American unit, so that such a search would be quite difficult. But her purpose had not been to find it, only to give Var a suitable mission. A mission she could participate in, while she grew.
She wondered what had happened to her father and the Nameless One. Had they finally given up the chase? She doubted it. Once she had Var in hand, she would have to arrange a reconciliation. It had hurt her to run from Sol, but she knew she could not return to Heicon with him, and it was essential to keep track of Var. Sol had been the man of her childhood; Var was to be the man of her womanhood.
But the thought of Helicon reminded her of Sosa, the only mother she remembered. In certain ways the loss of Sosa was worse than that of Sol. What was that proud small woman doing now? Had she resigned herself to the absence of both husband and daughter? Soli doubted it, and this hurt.
Finally her memories and alarms and conjectures subsided, and she slept.
Ch'in was more portly than she had heard. In fact he was fat. His face retained the suggestion of lines that in youth would have been handsome, but he was long past youth. Not even the grandeur of his robes could render him esthetic.
Soli glimpsed him momentarily, as she peered from a front window graduation morning. He was reviewing his troops, not even bothering to rise from the plush seat of his chauffeured open car. Suddenly she was unsure of her ability to play on his emotions; he looked too set, too jaded to be affected by a mere girl.