Chapter 3

He found the old man in the lower parlor. "Jonas," he said, "how did you enjoy your first festival?"

"To be honest it was a big disappointment. Now I understand why most of the participants came with their own partners."

"Yes, most do come with partners," Elias agreed.

"It appears they come, have dinner, collect their nectar and leave. It's what I should've done."

"If you had been observant, Jonas -- you'd have noticed that their partners are not their regular ones. That's the point of festival -- to celebrate fecundity and to stir up the gene pool a little. As far as I'm concerned -- I'm too old for anything but the food and the gossip."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Earlier we were remarking on how our colony started with a company of five hundred and has grown in a mere five generations to over three thousand. We accomplished it by encouraging procreation. We wanted to preserve the stability of the family, but we also wanted our genetic makeup as diverse as possible -- to minimize inbreeding. That, by the way, is the opposite of what the Galactics are doing -- though that is neither here nor there for this discussion."

"So we invented festival to justify infidelity?" Jonas asked.

"Children conceived in festival are considered special gifts," Elias replied. "Their legitimacy is never questioned and they are welcomed into their families alongside their siblings."

"I see."

"It also gives the parties involved a chance to satisfy curiosities."

"To swap mates," Jonas remarked.

"If you were to solicit someone at another time of the year, you might receive a slap across the face for your trouble; but for festival your invitation more likely would be accepted than refused. Many in our community await festival with eager anticipation."

"So, my insecurities about being rejected..."

"Were, probably, unfounded. Nonetheless ... I did hear Emil say that he saw you leaving with Marlee Martins."

"Yes..."

"I feel a little sorry for Marlee ... Her husband Wall was killed a few years back; and she has two little girls ... four and six standards, if I recall. She lives in the el of her mother-in-law's house. The grandmother takes care of the girls for her. Marlee's a sweet girl, but she's getting on in years and her prospects don't look too well."

"I didn't know."

"How did it go with her?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," Jonas replied bitterly.

"Did something go wrong?"

"I don't know if it was the nectar ... certainly the nectar was part of it."

"Part of what, Jonas?"

"It gave me a ... a hair trigger, okay?"

"I see ... That's not an uncommon problem, Jonas. Many men deal with it by engaging in a little solitary pleasuring before festival ... to relieve some of the tension if you get my drift."

"I wish someone had told me before. And I hope Marlee doesn't spread it around."

"I wouldn't worry about that, Jonas. She's not the sort to kiss and tell."

"I certainly hope not." Jonas dropped his empty vial on the table. "I'm going to go to bed."

Jonas trudged up the stairs carrying a vegetable tallow candle, stopping at the lavatory to relieve himself. He stepped into his room and kicked off his sandals. Then he set his candle on a stand and began to untie the belt of his robe.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Jonas!" came a loud whisper.

He spun around. "Harrah! What are you doing here?"

"I slipped in while you and Elias were at festival."

He regarded her and saw terror in her eyes. "Harrah, what's wrong?"

"Jonas -- you must help me!"

"Help you? How?"

"I can not ... I will not marry Prophet Zahn! Please help me!"

"I don't know how I can help you. Elias has said that we can't hide you here. If we were to harbor Zahn's betrothed, it would provoke trouble between your people and ours. We live in an uneasy enough truce as it is."

Harrah buried her face in her hands. "I'm lost, then, Jonas."

Jonas gestured her to his bed and sat beside her. "Tell me the whole story, Harrah. What happened after I returned you to your compound?"

"I was scolded severely for being absent -- though I never did tell them where I went. The sisters finally gave up -- since I returned whole and healthy the matter was moot. Then came the time for me to prepare for becoming one of Prophet's wives."

"Prepare you?"

"Yes -- I was taken to Prophet's abode where I met his four other wives ... current wives, I learned. He has had many. I saw his palatial quarters.

"Later, when I had returned to the sisters' residence, one of them took me aside. She had been an elder's wife -- 'til he tired of her. She told me what I should expect, what is expected of me and how to behave. When a wife displeases the prophet -- or, if he simply tires of her -- she is divorced and sent to the sister's dormitory and assigned the most menial of tasks. I learned that I was never to speak to Prophet unless spoken to first; and that I must never, ever leave the abode without being escorted by Prophet himself. Prophet brooks no questions, only obedience. I realized I'd never be free to roam the compound's gardens..."

"Or, outside the fence, either."

"That's right." Her eyes filled and tears streamed down her face. "But, there's more, Jonas. Our discussion of faith kept rolling around my mind. That evening at prayer, I had the most horrible thought. What if it's all a lie? I couldn't drive that thought from my head and I could feel my faith draining out of me as if I were a bucket with a hole in its bottom."

"You've lost your faith? Do you no longer believe in the kingdom at the center of the galaxy?"

"I'm not ready to give up my faith in my Lord," she replied. "But I have lost all faith that Prophet Zahn's path is the right one. I made up my mind to escape my prison before it is too late."

"You can run but you can't hide, Harrah. They will find you and Elias has said we can't harbor you here. I don't know if there's anyone else in the village who'd risk concealing you. About your only chance would be to flee into the wilderness."

"Would you come with me?"

"Harrah -- I know nothing of how to survive in the wilds. Can't you simply refuse to marry the prophet?"

"No -- I told you, the prophet brooks no questions and demands complete obedience."

"What happens to those who don't obey?"

"I told you they spend their years toiling at menial tasks. If their offenses are serious enough -- they are banished..." Her eyes grew wide. "If I were to be banished -- then I could come here, couldn't I?"

"If you're unwelcome there, you'd be welcome here," Jonas agreed. "I've heard Elias say so himself. What could you do to be banished?"

"I could be unfaithful. That would get me banished ... probably scourged, also -- but I'd endure anything to be free from there and to be with you, Jonas."

"You want to be with me?"

"More than anyone, Jonas."

"What is scourging?"

"There is a frame standing behind the residences. The victim is hung by his wrists, stripped naked and beaten with a staff. He's left hanging all night. In the morning he is cut down and thrown out and the gates locked behind him. I've never seen a scourging but I would endure it if it meant my freedom."

"How would you convince the prophet you've been unfaithful?"

"I've rehearsed and rehearsed the marriage ceremony. There is a point at which the elder celebrating the service will ask, 'Dost thou have sins to confess?' I'm supposed to say, 'No, I have nothing to confess. I come to you my lord and prophet clean and whole.' This morning I asked Sister Agnes what would happen if a bride were to confess infidelity. She said she would be examined, and if the claim were true she would be banished. If the claim were unproven, she would be sent to the sisters' dormitory..."

"Because she displeased the prophet with a lie."

"Precisely. The prophet demands his brides be virgins..."

"Hence the clean and whole ... Yet with so many wives he's hardly pure himself. That selfish, prudish hypocritical bastard!"

"It's a spiritual issue, Jonas. Only prophets and elders may father children. The notion that someone else had soiled her..."

" ... risks polluting the spirit of the Lord which only the anointed ones carry in their loins. I get it." He regarded her. "Harrah -- do you want me to take your..."

"My virginity? Jonas, I don't want anyone else to take it but you. I love you."

"You want us to ... now?"

"I must be back in the compound by dawn." She lay on her back on the bed and spread her legs. "Take me now, Jonas."

"I don't think either of us are in any condition to ... We're both too upset. My hands are shaking and so are yours. I wish I had more of the nectar."

"The nectar?"

"The drug we use in festival -- it calms the nerves, among other things. I don't know if there's any left in the workshop. Even if there were, I dare not go downstairs to fetch it. I wouldn't want to explain my actions to Elias. As you say, it's easier to gain forgiveness than permission..." He regarded her. "Do you trust me, Harrah?"

"I trust you. I love you and I want you."

"Then we should slow down and try to relax." Jonas lay beside her. "You said, you. You've been saying, you. What happened to thee-thou?"

"I'm determined to leave the compound and live in your village. I now know that Zahn is a false prophet and undeserving of the respect the formal word bestows. Henceforth I shall use the egalitarian form your village espouses."

"But ... I loved hearing you speak it. Suppose you were to use thee and thou with me and me only ... not as your peer but as your lover."

She smiled and nodded. "I would like that, Jonas."

"And suppose I were to use it only with thou?"

"Only with thee, Jonas. I would like that, too."

"So thee and I will have our own private language."

"So thou and I, Jonas..."

Jonas sighed. "How am I supposed to know which one to use?"

"It's simple," she replied. "Thou is the subject and thee is the predicate."

"Subject? Predicate?"

"Don't thou know thy grammar? Here's a simple trick -- when in doubt, re-cast the sentence in the first person."

"First person?"

"Cast it back upon thyself. For example -- which is correct? I love thou or I love thee?" Jonas shrugged his shoulders. "Ask thyself, which would be correct? I love I or I love me?"

"I love me -- but it doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't have to make sense, just be correct. Substitute thou for I and thee for me. Thee and me rhyme so it's easy to remember. With a little practice it becomes second nature."

"I love thee," Jonas said.

Harrah broke into a broad smile. "And I love thee, Jonas. I love thee with all my heart."

Jonas kissed her lips and took her hand. "Harrah," he said, "thine hands have stopped shaking."

"Thou hast set me at complete ease..."

"How do I know when to say has or hast?"

She kissed his lips again. "It really doesn't matter, Jonas. At least it doesn't matter to me."

Jonas gazed into Harrah's grey- green eyes and regarded her face in the lamplight. "Thou have set me at ease, too, Harrah. Are thou ready to consummate our love?"

"Ready to; and eager to, Jonas."

"Are thou nervous?" he asked.

"A bit ... but I'm not afraid."

Jonas stood with his back to her, unfastened his belt and dropped his robe to the floor. He returned to lying beside her and caressed her cheek with the backs of his finger. "I love thee," he said.

"And I love thee," she replied. Jonas brought his face to hers and kissed her lips. He pet her strawberry blond hair, kissed her again and explored her lips with his tongue. Again they kissed and she permitted him to draw her tongue into his mouth.

Jonas stroked her arm through the white gown she wore. Then he unfastened her sash and parted it, exposing her shoulders and breasts.

Hers were round and firm, with pale, pink areolas and small nipples. "Harrah," he remarked, "what white skin thou have." He caressed the sides of her breasts, shifting his hands to cradle and fondle them. "Thou can touch me, too."

Harrah caressed his arms and then placed her hands on his chest. "I feel thy heart," she said. "Art thou nervous?"

"This is a thrill, Harrah. Dost thou not think so?"

"Thou has a fine body, Jonas."

"And, so do thou."

Harrah kept her eyes focused on his. Now he stroked her breasts outward as if milking them. He brought his lips to her nipple, drew it into his mouth and nursed.

"Jonas," she whispered hoarsely. "Thy touch is stirring strange feelings."

"Unwelcome?" he asked.

"No. Unfamiliar ... but very welcome."

"Follow the feelings," he replied. "See where they lead thee."

She pulled her gown to open it further. "What thou are doing ... would feel good on the other side, too."

Jonas alternated tonguing her left and right nipples. Harrah's breathing had deepened and become soft panting.

He eased her onto her back and pulled her gown fully open. For the first time he beheld her nude body -- her slender, shapely legs, and firm abdomen. "Thou art beautiful, Harrah."

Jonas smoothed his hand along her legs, from the top of her foot up to her thighs. He cupped his hands around her buttocks and kissed her belly. With the backs of his fingers he stroked her patch of light red pubic hair.

"I'm going to pleasure thee with my tongue," he said.

"Why do that?" she asked.

"Because a woman needs some attention there before the final act ... at least, some women do. Harrah -- if anything feels wrong to thee -- tell me and I shall stop immediately."

She nodded. "I shall, Jonas ... but nothing thou hast done so far feels the least bit wrong."

Jonas lay, face down between her thighs. He parted her labia and kissed her, inhaling her musky scent. Then he slipped his arms under her thighs, caressed her belly and began the velvet whipsaw motion on her clit.

"Jonas," she panted "Jonas ... oh, Jonas..."

He cupped his hand over her breast and could feel her heart throbbing. Harrah grasped his forearms. He could feel her ribs move as her panting deepened and became gasping. Each stroke of his tongue reverberated in her belly and thigh muscles.

"Jonas ... Oh, Jonas!" she let out a yelp and he came up from between her thighs. Her body was shaking. He held her to comfort her.

Harrah grasped his face and peppered it with kisses. "Are you ... thou all right?" he asked.

"Oh, Jonas..." She shook her head. "I don't know what happened ... It felt like I was going to burst..." She pressed her hand against her mons. " ... down here."