Power Play - Anne McCaffrey [1]
“It is,” Sean said. “I have a song to sing for you all.”
“Sing for us,” soft voices said from the shadows, accompanied by an underlying rumble of throaty feline purrs, the whicker of the curly-coats, and the affirmative yips of the dogs.
“Sing,” the echo said.
Yana had no idea how many bodies were clustered into the cave that day. The line seemed to stretch clear back to the village and included every man, woman, and child, horse, cat, and larger track-cats, and even everybody’s dog teams. And she could have sworn that she saw wild game emerge from the brush and join in the procession just before Clodagh led them into the darkness of the cave behind the hot-springs waterfall.
Sean cleared his throat. The candle flame shadowed the chiseled planes of his face and softened the outlines of his mouth as he began to chant.
“Yanaba, she met the enemy
Coming to us, she met friends as well
And honored them.
She met me, and I met love.
Aijija
With her friends, here around her
With her lover, I who take her hand
For these people and this world embracing us
She met the enemy again and again
It is in her name to do so.
Aijija
Yanaba, who knows my aspects
Yanaba, who has my heart
Yanaba, who honors my world and my people
Yanaba, who carries our future in her body
Yanaba, you are already part of my life
Yanaba, you already possess my heart
I tell you this here, with our world as witness
I want you with me forever
Aiji.”
Yana’s mouth went suddenly dry. Something soft and furry rubbed against her bare ankles. Her stomach gave a heave and she wondered if the baby could be moving so soon, pushing her to speak. She took Sean’s hands as much for support as encouragement and clung to them so tightly that she was afraid she’d leave bruises. But he returned the strong grip, and that gave her the courage she needed. Suddenly light-headed, she felt as if she needed to hold on to him to keep from floating to the top of the cave.
“Sean Shongili, my truest friend and love.
Here I am, a woman whose only song
Was of war and death.
How can I sing what I feel for you?
You gave me life when I was dying
A home when I had known none in
Many years of wandering
A family when all of mine is dead
A life to bear
When I thought I could give only death
You showed me a new world and
Invited me to make it my own.
And I do.
In old songs by better singers
They say, ‘You are all the world to me.’
I say so too.
Sean Shongili, you are all the world to me
And the world to me is you.
I love you. Take me as I take you.
As they used to say on earth, ‘I do.’ ”
Sean took her in his arms then and kissed her, letting his body rest against her belly, which, although still not too obvious, was growing fuller and rounder by the day.
Then Clodagh clapped her hands and everyone dispersed, leaving Yana and Sean alone in the cave, but not in darkness. As the candles departed, a warm soft glow pulsed throughout the cavern, and he eased her to the rock, which seemed to melt into a comfortable bed as she and Sean made love. They always enjoyed that occupation, but here, now, in the cave, where the planet was also part of their communion, she felt as if she had never before been so consumed by the passion that always fired up between them in the act of love. Sean felt it, too, for his hands were tender, possessive in a fashion she would once have resented, exciting in ways she had never experienced. The climax was so extraordinary that she wept and knew, from the wetness of the cheek he pressed hard against hers, that he also had been rocked by the intensity of their consummation. For a moment, she thought she had died.
This time they did not sleep afterward; nor did they dress before leaving the cave to join the throng waiting outside at the thermal pools.
Cheers and laughter greeted them. Overhead the stars and moons, real and man-made,