Fantasy fiction; Magic -- Fiction; Science fiction; Witches -- Fiction
There was a true trembling in her voice and he felt the moisture of a
tear, where her face was pressed into the crotch of his neck. (It did
not seem to him that a chance remark was a matter for such fervor, for
as he knew religion, it was a guide, and the world would go mad if one
tried to observe its commands in every particular.) But all this was
only the background of a flicker of surprise across his mind, as he left
her face and kissed her closed eyes. “Leece, Leece,” he said, “I didn’t
mean—” and did not know what more to say.
“Oh, Rodvard, I could not bear it if you deceived me like that.”
“Do you think I am trying to?” (Kiss.)
“I do not know. No. Ah, we must not do this. It leads us into the hands
of Evil. Rodvard, Rodvard, you must, if you want me. . . . Oh—” The word
died into lips moving without sound, on which his lips closed, her
breath began to come fast, she let his seeking fingers linger a moment
at her breasts and slide past, he could not see her eyes, but without
the intervention of his amulet, he knew that this was the moment—but at
the very point of sliding from the crest, Leece flung herself gasping
from his arms, and with a sob was gone.
Next morning his breakfast was left outside the door.
III
The linen stitching was very tedious. Five or six of them, all novices
like herself, sat in a circle and went round the edges of napkins,
drawing three threads, stitching them home, drawing three threads,
bringing them home again, while the mattern or Mircella or one of the
older girls read slowly from the First Book of the Prophet, pausing now
and again to make exposition of the meaning of a passage. Talking was
discouraged. At noon there was always the same meal of pulse with fresh
greens or fruit, but in the evening sometimes a piece of meat.
Every fourth-day they all marched in procession to the house of religion
and there was a service, not like those in the Dossolan churches, with
their flowers and music, but merely a discourse, such as Lalette had
first heard at the conventicle in Netznegon, with everybody embracing
each other afterward, and prayers of grace pronounced by an Initiate.
This took place at noon; after the service, no more work was done on
these days.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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