Darkburn Book 4: The Haunt of Ternss by Tayin Machrie - HTML preview

Chapter 30

Tamu walked along the corridor in a kind of dream. It had happened. For days now he had seen Parthenal’s increasing discontent; maybe no-one else had noticed, but it pierced Tamu with love and sympathy and the urge to help.

And then that evening, when he watched Parthenal’s glances towards Jaul, his heart had seemed to stop. He did not blame Parthenal for his desires; for how could someone so like a god not want to give expression to his splendour? Thoronal had called him promiscuous. The very thought of it – of Parthenal’s many lovers – filled Tamu with wanting; and with fear besides.

For even though they were outside the castle, they were still within the influence of Kelvha. Jaul had not given up. But Tamu knew that dreadful danger lurked that way.

So he had followed Parthenal, at a discreet distance, to see where his room was. Then he had gone upstairs to the sad abandoned dormitory and sat on his bunk bed, unable to lie down, unable to speak to anyone, perusing a stray piece of paper in the pretence that it was a letter so that no-one would disturb him. He had found the paper underneath the bed; there was nothing on it but a crudely drawn picture of the building that he sat in, with sharp waves at its base.

There was he, sitting at the top. There was Parthenal, two floors below. Was he alone? Where was Jaul? What was happening? What might happen? Tamu began to rock to and fro, trying to summon up his courage until he panicked that it was all too late, and then he dropped the paper and half ran, half tumbled down the stairs, his limbs clumsy and disobedient as if he were falling apart.

He scuttled down the corridor and knocked on Parthenal’s door at once, before he could lose heart and run off again. None the less he expected to be turned away with cool disdain and was already anticipating his own extreme and crippling shame. He would have to go away forever or hurl himself off the highest point of the cliff, in secret, so that nobody would know.

But Parthenal had let him in. He had permitted him to stay. And it had happened. His god had not rejected him, or laughed at him, or found him disappointing. Parthenal had been more than he could ever have imagined: more beautiful, more strong, more tender, a thing of gold and ecstasy and liberation. Tamu had written words of love and worship upon Parthenal’s dazzling body. He had been allowed. Now as he walked back down the corridor he found that tears were running down his face again; yet he was not unhappy. He did not know what he felt. His heart was so full that it left him dazed and blinded.

He stumbled towards the eastern staircase that led up to his quarters. Through the broken roof he saw the glimmer of the dusk, and felt a waft of warm air kiss his cheek. He could hear a faint, soft hissing sound: was that rain, falling on the sea?

Joy has shone into my soul, it has rained down onto me, he thought as he slowly climbed the stairs, I hear joy surround me in a shower of gentle sound to bring new life to the world; and in the half-dark he walked into someone.

“Well, hello,” said Jaul. “Where have you been so late at night?”

“I got lost,” said Tamu, as the first thing he thought of. It was also true in a way.

“Easily done here. I can help you find your room again.” There was something in his voice, constrained, like hidden anger.

“I don’t need help,” said Tamu.

“But I can keep you company. Would you like that? A bit of company?”

“Go away,” said Tamu, and he practically ran back up the stairs to his own quarters.