To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [79]
“Now what, Ma’adrys?” the oberyin asked wearily.
“Will you punish me along with Avren, you and your starlords?” “Is that how well you know me, Bilik?” Ma’adrys replied. “We were once to be paired.” Troi’s eyes widened in surprise. Then she heard Geordi suck in his breath sharply. So I am not the only one to whom this is news. Ma ‘adrys and Bilik. She couldn’t help giving Geordi a sympathetic look. If he saw it, he didn’t acknowledge it at all.
“We were,” Bilik was saying. “Until you let foolish thoughts touch you!” “How foolish was it of me to want to become an oberyin like you? You were the feel, Bilik. You could not allow me to make a trial of my powers before the Na’amOberyin, to stand or fall on my own merits.
You had to speak against me to them so that you could have me to yourself.” She looked at him with eyes that held more sorrow than anger. “What do you have of me now?” He turned away from her. “He told me I might have you back again,” he said. “He swore that if I helped him overcome the evil ones in our midst”—he cast a guilty glance at Troi and Lelys—”you would return to me from Evramur. And you have come back, but not to me.” He dared to look back at her with the ghost of hope in his eyes. “Have you?” Geordi took a step forward and rested his arm on Ma’adrys’s shoulder. The oberyin saw how matters stood even before Ma’adrys told him, “No, Bilik. Not to yOU.” Bilik’s face twisted into a look of naked rage that he turned toward the house where Avren still waited.
“This is his fault. You can speak to the others of the divine judgment he will face in Evramur, but I will not listen! If I cannot have you, I no longer care what becomes of me, body or soul. If ! have lost you, he will lose his life!” Bilik spun around and plunged into his house.
Moving even before the others could react, Mr. Data dashed after him. Counsellor Troi burst in just in time to see the android wresting a knife from the oberyin’s hand while a bound and helpless Avren squirmed on the floor between them.
Even disarmed, Bilik refused to surrender. He threw himself on the false shepherd and grabbed the man by the throat, roaring accusations and shaking him so violently that for a moment Troi couldn’t tell whether he wanted to kill Avren by strangulation or by snapping his neck.
Data broke Bilik’s grip easily and pulled the panting oberyin to his feet. “Given the circumstances, I believe it would be wise to remove the prisoner from the premises,” he remarked, keeping Bilik a safe distance away from Avren.
Avren was more than ready to agree. “Get me out of here now,” he begged. “He’s gone crazy.” “And where do you suggest we take you?” Troi asked. “Back to the village?” “By the Fathers, not that! They’re ready to skin me alive.” “No more than you deserve,” Bilik spat. “What a fool I was to heed you, Avren! All that I wantwall that I ever wanted—was to have Ma’adrys for my wife. I have lost any chance of that, all because of you and your foul trickeries. Illusions, all. Illusions that led me to believe you were a messenger of the gods!
And now my beloved, my faith, perhaps my soul as well are all lost, thanks to you.” He leaned against the stone wall and slumped down, beaten and broken.
“Bilik.” Ma’adrys was kneeling beside him, her arms around him. It was a simple gesture, such as one friend might offer another in need, but Troi saw that it struck Geordi like a blow to the heart.
“Let’s get him out of here,” the engineer said tersely, nodding at Avren. He didn’t wait for the others to help, but slit the ropes binding his feet, set one