The Nomad - By Simon Hawke Page 0,19

peaceful oasis of green tranquility in a parched and dying world. Instead, you met me and fell in love, a love I share with all my heart, but never can reciprocate the way love is meant to be, because of who and what I am. And when I consider all that you have gone through for my sake, and what still lies ahead…” He sighed and looked away. “It all seems monstrously unfair.”

She moved closer to him and took his hand in hers. “I am not complaining,” she said. “Without you, I never would have had a friend my own age back at the convent. And without you, I never would have truly known what it means to love someone. I would have grown up like all the other sisters, having little use for men and thinking even less of them. And chances are that if I ever had a man, I would have done it in the same way as the older sisters who go out on their pilgrimages and use the opportunity to indulge their curiosity about the pleasures of the flesh. It would have meant nothing to me, and I would most likely have reacted the same way they all did, wondering why people made so much of it if that was all there was to love. But now, I know that they are wrong, and there is so much more. I may wonder sometimes what it feels like to couple with a male, but since I have never done it, I do not really know what I am missing. In truth, I do not require a male to make me feel whole as a woman.”

“I often wonder if I shall ever feel complete as a male without having made love to a female,” Sorak said. “And not just any female,” he added, looking at her. “Only one would do.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his hand gently. “But Mistress Varanna told me once that love can be all the more intense for being chaste.”

Sorak looked surprised. “Varanna said that?”

Ryana smiled. “Varanna is wise in the ways of the world, as well as the ways of the spirit.”

“Yes, I suppose she is,” Sorak replied. “It is just that I find it difficult to imagine her speaking of such things.”

“We had a long talk about you just before I left the convent,” said Ryana. “I had already made up my mind to leave and follow you. I did not think she suspected it, but now I am certain she knew. I thought I was being so clever, sneaking out at night the way I did. She knew, though, and she could have stopped me but didn’t.”

“I am certain she would take you back,” said Sorak.

“Yes, I think she would,” Ryana replied, “but though I miss the sisters and the Ringing Mountains, I really have no desire to return.”

“Because of me?”

“Yes, but there is much more to it than you and me. What we are doing is important, Sorak, much more important than anything I could have done back at the convent. The villichi are preservers, first and foremost, followers of the Druid Way. We are taught from childhood to dedicate ourselves to saving our world, and we all dream that, one day, Athas will be green again. Perhaps that is a dream that shall never come to pass, but at least we can work to prevent the world from being despoiled further by defiler magic. The Sage represents our one true hope for that. The avangion is the only power that can stand against the dragon sorcerers. We must help the Sage achieve that metamorphosis. For a true preserver, there can be no higher calling.”

“True,” said Sorak, “but it also means that we will be in active opposition to the sorcerer-kings and every defiler on the planet. And you know that they shall stop at nothing to prevent the Sage from achieving his goal. That means they shall stop at nothing to prevent us from helping him. I often think I should have undertaken this alone, the way I started out. What right have I to expose you to such risks?”

“What makes you think it was your decision?” she asked. “No one ever said the Path of the Preserver was an easy one. It is not enough merely to talk about the path as an ideal. To be a true preserver, one must also walk it.”

“Yes,” said Sorak. “And speaking of walking…”

“So soon?” Ryana said.

“Only a little farther,” he

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