D. A. Houdek

Deb Houdek Rule

Web designer - Science Fiction author - Civil War historian - Genealogy researcher

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Of All the Western Stars

by Deb Houdek Rule

Chapter 28

Ashur stared, bewildered, at the distraught young woman before him. Lisette pulled herself up from the rug, closing her robe around her as if it were armor to protect her. Her expression radiated confusion and hurt. Why should she be acting hurt, he thought angrily, it was she who had spurned him… and at a point where it took all his will to do as she wished and stop.

"You said ‘no’," he repeated. "Of course I stopped."

Lisette blushed deeply and looked flustered. "But…" she stuttered, "but… I thought that a man… I mean, that once things had gone so far…" She trailed off.

A hint of understanding flickered through Ashur’s mind. Slowly he said, "So you thought I’d go on and have you… Even after you said to stop."

Her blush deepened. "Yes," she whispered.

A bitter smile twisted Ashur’s mouth. "So you’d be — what’s the best word? - blameless for it, make it seem I took you against your will, even though it was clearly what you wanted too?"

Lisette nodded miserably. Ashur wanted to lash out at her, make her swallow the sour taste of her hypocrisy, hurt her with his words as she had hurt him with her actions. But, standing there in the rekindled glow of the fire, huddled into the satin robe like a wounded child, she looked so vulnerable, so innocent, that his anger withered away and he only wanted to hold her again and comfort her. It must be hard to be a woman now, in this world. She couldn’t help trying to strike a balance that fit her values and let her live with the way things were.

Letting out a long sigh, Ashur crossed the room to Lisette. He stood before her. She wouldn’t meet his gaze. With his finger he gently raised her chin.

"Look at me," he ordered. Oh, dear, he thought, as those rich, forest green eyes met his, she’s going to cry and I’ll melt into a helpless puddle and promise her anything. "No man," he began, "that is, no decent man, no civilized man, would continue when the woman says ‘no.’ Trying to turn me into a… a… a rapist is unfair. Do you understand?"

A tear rolled down her cheek and she sniffled. Ashur had to fight the urge to hug her and comfort her and say it didn’t matter. Damn it, it did matter, and he’d not be used.

Between sniffles, she blurted out, "I am a most unworthy sinner. I’ve very nearly betrayed my husband and my vows. I meant to and the deed is as truly a sin as the act. And I have most grievously wronged you. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Yes," he answered softly, "I can forgive you. We’ll call it a misunderstanding and nothing more." Even as he said the words, and meant them with all his heart, he wondered what it was about this woman that brought out this side of him. Had any other woman dare do such a thing to him before he’d have turned and left without another word. He’d certainly not have bothered with her any more. But Lisette… With Lisette it was different. He’d told himself that he loved her, but the emotion was still new to him and he found he had much yet to learn about the sacrifices and concessions that came with love, real love, not passion, or lust, or fondness, but love. It must be so, for the passion hadn’t cooled, he’d not touch her again until she could come to him willingly, wholeheartedly.

"You are kind, milord," Lisette said with a hint of artificial formality creeping into her tone. Now that the surprise and hurt were wearing off she must be embarrassed. Best to change the subject, he decided.

"I told you earlier that I’d show you that which might prove the truth of that fantastic tale I told you."

Swallowing hard, Lisette swiped at her eyes. Her emotions were a tumult. So much had happened, and such strange and bewildering things she didn’t know what to think, what to believe about Ashur, or herself. Sniffling one last time she followed Ashur to a table. Like all of Aunt Agnes’ things it was the finest, inlaid Italian woods. On the surface lay a small, dark gray square of some material she could not identify, it appeared to be neither wood nor metal.

"This is it?"

Ashur nodded, clearly watching her reactions closely. She studied the object, pulling a candle closer that she may have better light in which to see it. With a tentative finger she touched its surface. The contact told her nothing, she still didn’t know what it was. She picked it up. It was no heavier than a kitten. Turning it over and over, Lisette looked at every side, finding each as featureless as the others. There seemed no way to open it, if it was a box, no words or decorations on its surface, and it didn’t reflect her image.

Lisette looked up at Ashur and shrugged. "What is it?"

Ashur smiled. "This is Baby."

"Baby?"

"Yes. Lisette, would you believe me if I told you that there are books in here, more than in all the libraries in England? And a…" he appeared to be searching for a word, "a mind that can do mathematical calculations beyond those even dreamed of by the best intellectuals in your world?"

Lisette hesitated. She wanted to say ‘no’ but, she thought wryly, she’d said ‘no’ one time too many already tonight.

Ashur rescued her. "It’s all right," he said. "I know you don’t believe me, you’ve never seen the like of Baby before, not even the crudest of her predecessors. Baby is a Personal Data Device, an artificial intelligence, a computer basically, but more. Here, look…" He took the flat box from her and unfolded it into a flat, gray sheet about the size of a small book but much thinner. She was surprised for her fingers had detected no seams in its edges. If that surprised her, what happened next astounded her beyond anything she could ever imagine.

Pressing his thumb on a corner of the flat box, Ashur spoke to it saying, "Wake up, Baby."

The grayness dissolved into bright light and colors and then it spoke! "Hello, Ashur," it said in a pleasant, young woman’s voice. Lisette felt faint. She began inching backwards, away from the possessed thing.

"Wait Lisette!" Ashur said urgently. "It’s harmless. Baby, sound off."

"‘Tis a demon," she murmured, "a thing possessed."

Ashur’s expression managed to look both alarmed and exasperated all at once. Try though she may to find a sense of Satan’s works in him and his strange devices and strange tales, she could not. Oh, God, she prayed incoherently, he’s proven I can trust him with my sacred honor, help me to trust him now. She took a deep, ragged breath and moved back closer to the table.

"No demon would have the Holy Scriptures," he said quickly, his eyes searching her face, "would it? Well, look at this."

She stepped closer and looked at the now-bright, but still featureless, surface. "Baby, show me something from the Bible. Something reassuring," he added.

On the surface there immediately appeared words from the Holy Scriptures in print more even and precise than any she’d ever seen before. She peered closer at the words. "It’s in English," she gasped.

Ashur looked bewildered. "Of course. Baby knows that’s the language we’re speaking. She can display it in any language you like."

"Ashur," Lisette said, "You could be burned for translating the Bible into English. You must destroy this thing lest anyone else see it."

As though exhausted, Ashur sank down into a chair and covered his face. "Baby, clear screen," he muttered and sighed. A rich wave of empathy swept over Lisette. It was the same feeling she’d had so long ago that odd day when he’d first asked her what year it was. Fifteen eighteen, she’d answered blithely, and been surprised at the depth of his reaction. She understood now, or thought she did. If he spoke the truth he was further from his home, and far more alone and isolated in a strange, bewildering place, than even she was trapped in her loveless marriage.

"Oh, Ashur," she breathed and moved to stand beside him. Sinking to her knees by him, she reached up and took one his hands in hers, caressing it against her cheek. She looked up into his pained eyes. "I believe you," she said simply.

How he’d wanted someone here and now to say that, Ashur thought. No one had for, of course, he’d not dared betray himself. It had been a great leap of faith for him to trust Lisette with the impossible truths of his origins and he was awash with relief that his faith in her had not been misplaced. True, he’d had doubts, wondered if her sixteenth century upbringing and beliefs could make the thousand year leap to things impossible and undreamed of now. Ashur considered that were Lisette moved a thousand years backwards from her time she’d fit in more easily than he did moving back the same length of time. For millennia the human race had lived with one year, one century, little different from the one that came before and after. Then came the fifteen hundreds and the Renaissance, Lisette’s era, and the placidly unchanging world was shattered. The flat earth was made round, the unquestionable authority of the Church was broken, and with it the common man, the dull peasant in his field came to realize that he had the same worth, and right to chose and live for himself, as did the King.

So, Ashur came to this world, this era of Lisette’s, with a mind accustomed to changing vistas and new, strange experiences. But Lisette… she was the product of the world before, the unchanging backwaters of history. True, her world stood on the brink of the Renaissance, he’d seen the evidence of it himself, but he’d also seen the stubborn remains of the Dark Ages clinging to people and society. On which side of the brink did Lisette stand? Could she make the leap to his world?

‘I believe you,’ she had said and it filled his heart with hope and love. It also helped take some of the edge off the omnipresent fear that he’d one day find himself tied to a stake here while well-meaning fools lit the fire.

"Do you truly?" he asked her.

She hesitated. "Since the day a star blazed across the heavens, heralding your arrival, there has been much that I have seen that is wondrously strange. Much I do not understand. Much I find difficult to believe… But in you? Aye, faith heartily, I do believe in you."

Ashur smiled gratefully at her. "Then trust me more and let me show you a bit of my world."

Slowly, making things as easy as possible, he led her through some of Baby’s mysteries, using what he knew of her great love of learning and books as the lure.

"Remember the books in your Aunt’s secret library room?"

Lisette sighed mournfully. "That is a great sorrow, that those precious books are gone, lost to the fire."

"The books are gone, but their content is not."

She looked up at him with surprise. "How can this be? Had you taken some books from there?"

Ashur shook his head. "Not some. I took them all."

"All!"

"I had Baby scan them into her memory. She has all of Agnes’ books preserved here, set into her memory for all of time." He ordered Baby to display the Copernicus book. Lisette, after she overcame her trepidation, was fascinated and as delighted as a child with a new, wondrous toy.

Her hand tracing lovingly over the screen, Lisette looked up at Ashur in a way that stirred his blood again. "You say all the books are in this tiny space?"

"Yes, all those plus many more."

Intently she asked, "How many more?"

Ashur shrugged. "Oh, I don’t know for sure, millions…"

He could see the longing in her to delve into this wondrous new world, felt this would touch her from the moment he’d seen her notes on the Copernicus book, but there was yet a hesitation in her. She ran a finger over Baby’s screen, her expression growing ever more miserable.

"There is that which I must yet tell you," she said. "A thing that will make you angry with me again."

His heart thudded at her ominous tone. "What?"

Lisette stared at the floor. She spoke in a low monotone Ashur had to strain to hear. "Those men who burned my Aunt Agnes’ estate…"

"Yes."

"The boy described them as wizards with powers such as he’d not seen before, magical things. Such things, I believe, as could strike a man dead with naught but a beam of ruby light." She looked up, her green eyes meeting his steadily. "He said they sought after you."

The price of his crimes followed him even here, even now, damaging and destroying the lives of these people who’d been so kind to him. Blindly, Ashur turned away from Lisette, and stood at the window, clutching its frame, not seeing what lay beyond the wavy glass. Agnes’ magnificent home, source of her pride, her treasured library, the lives of all those faithful servants… all sacrificed because of him.

And yet… And yet a surge of hope came with the words Lisette spoke. These men had to be from his own time, his enemies, to be sure, but they’d have a ship, a way off this world and out of this time. A way that would take him away from Lisette.

Ashur gulped and wished that thought didn’t send such a heavy painful lump twisting into his stomach. She was best off with him gone. Hadn’t last night proven that? She wasn’t free to be what he wanted of her, and the gods knew he wasn’t anything that was good for her.

His mind raced as he tried to figure out how they’d found him, how they’d tracked his ship through time, and how they’d learned he was at Agnes’ house. Had they found his ship? He swallowed hard. They must have and followed his trail to Allyngton Manor. There must have been something on the ship he overlooked, the beacon really on and the readouts wrong, maybe, or a leak in the power cell. Or they’d seen him crash in and lost him once he’d gotten tangled into the strange world of the fifteen hundreds. Either way the trail led from his ship to the elusive trail he’d left here. No wonder it had taken them these many weeks to pick up his trail.

Their ship! It must be near his. They must have found his ship and landed near there. If he could get to it and take it, strand them here in the dark ages…

One thing was a certainty, he had to find and deal with them. With the power of twenty-sixth century technology they could blow this primitive world to hell and back. Heart thumping with excitement and tension, his surroundings forgotten, Ashur began to lay tentative plans to take their ship, get back to his time, his worlds…

A feather touch on his arm made him jump and the sixteenth century reappeared with full force. Lisette studied him quizzically, eyes full of concern. Confusion and uncertainty such as he had never known swept over Ashur. He couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t bear the thought of leaping forward a thousand years and going on with life knowing she was gone, lost to time. Could he face each day with the knowledge that the one woman to whom he truly wanted to devote himself had vanished to nothing but forgotten dust centuries before? But, as surely as he knew he loved her he knew that her honest soul wouldn’t let her leave her marriage and duties to fly off with him. He loved Lisette for the very things that kept them apart.

Ashur’s shoulders slumped. "I have to go," he said quietly.