Stephen Lawhead - Taliesin

“Yes, I do. You have enjoyed a long and illustrious tenure-which is most admirable.”

“It has been seven years since I entered the ring. Think of it! Seven years I have danced! Tell me, Belrene, has anyone ever danced longer?”

The Belrene looked momentarily perplexed. “No,” he answered softly. “No one that I know of.”

“No one.” She stepped closer. “I have been captain four years. How many of die Gulls have been lost since then?”

“Only one or two, I think. You have been very fortunate, I know.”

“None!” Charis shouted. “Not one of my dancers has been lost since I became leader. Who among your captains has a better record?”

“You speak of bull dancing as if it were a game.”

“It is a game. And you know it is-despite what you profess to the people. Yes, and they know it is a game as well. The gold, the silver-do you think they throw their trinkets to the god? They throw them to us! They shower us with it.”

“It is sacrifice. It belongs to the temple.”

“Oh, yes. It belongs to the temple-but you so generously allow us to keep a small portion for ourselves. Why? Because you know who it is that brings them to the ring.”

“They come to see the sacred dance,” sniffed the Belrene.

“They come to see me!” Charis crowed. “Or do you suppose bull dancing itself has suddenly become so popular among our countrymen? Are other pits as well attended?”

“They are,” allowed the Belrene cautiously.

“Oh, they are-they are when the Gulls appear.”

“You think highly of yourself, Charis. Too highly. What if I told you you could never dance again?”

She tossed her head back and laughed. “Never dance again? Who will make this announcement? You? I would love to see it! You, standing there in the center of the ring, explaining that the Gulls will never dance again. They will tear you limb from limb! They will riot in your holy streets!”

“You think you are that powerful?”

“Not me, Belrene. I am only a servant of the god, like yourself.” She stepped toward him with her hands on her hips. “But when I dance, I am a god!”

“You blaspheme!”

“Do I?” She tilted her head, eyes half-closed. “I tell you that my dancing is closer to the god’s heart than your money counting.”

“Do you think I care about the gold?”

“What do you care about then?”

The Belrene paused, glowering at her. “I care that you are profaning the sacred dance. I care that you think you are above the laws of the temple. I care that you cheapen the art with your insatiable vanity.”

“Jealousy has loosened your tongue, Belrene. Do go on.”

“No one can talk to you, Charis. You think all hands are raised against you. You see only what you want to see.”

“I see what is,” she hissed, her body rigid beneath the soft fabric.

“I wonder if you do.” He turned from her and took his seat at the table, sat down slowly, shaking his head. “What am I to do with you, Charis?”

“I do not care what you do with the other teams. But for the Gulls, let me choose the bulls. Suspend your rules and let me deal with my dancers as I see fit.”

“Would that make you happy?”

“Happy? I did not know we were discussing my happiness here.”

“I told you I was your friend.”

“Then give us half of the tribute.”

“Half!”

“Why not? You would not have a tenth of what you have now if not for me.”

The Belrene stared at her, then shrugged. “Half then. What else?”

“Promise never to threaten me again.”

“When have I ever threatened you?”

“When you suggested I might never dance again-what was that? A premonition?”

“If you like.”

“Give me your word,” insisted Charis.

“I will never threaten you. Is that all?”

Charis smiled broadly. “When have I ever asked anything for myself?”

“Very well, I have given you all you have asked. Now I require something in return.”

“What?”

“Little enough.” The Belrene dismissed it with a flick of his hand. “I want you to take a rest.”

“A rest?” asked Charis warily.

“A long rest.”

“How long?”

“Six months at least.”

“Six months!” howled Charis. “You are trying to kill me!”

“I am trying to save you!”

“From what?”

“From yourself! You cannot see that?”

“If I rest, as you say, for six months what do you think will happen the moment I step back into the pit? You were a dancer once. You know what that means.”

“Then maybe it is time you stepped down.”

Charis stared at him as if stricken. “I will never step down,” she whispered. “I may die in the ring one day, but I will never step down.”

The Belrene gazed at her sadly. “I remember the first time you attempted a triple. It had never been done before. No one Believed it could be done-but you, Charis, you did it the first time you tried.”

Charis smiled, remembering. “I could not eat a thing for two days before-and it was so simple.”

“Yes, and now? What? You do a triple almost every dance. It is a commonplace.”

“The people expect it,” Charis replied. “It is what they come to see.”

“Soon they will expect more, and then still more of you. What then, Charis?”

“Then I will give them more,” she said defiantly.

“And then what? How long can you continue?”

“As long as I choose.”

“No, Charis. You cannot. You are not a goddess after ail-though you seem to think yourself one. No, one day soon you will reach too far and you will fall.”

“So be it!”

“Rest, Charis. Better still, leave the ring. Walk away.”

She stared at the man before her. She heard a compassion in his voice she had not heard before, but still resisted. “As you walked away?”

The Belrene did not rise to the taunt. “You are a demi-Mage. A year or two of study and you would be a Mage. You could go back home, back to your people.”

“Is that how you plan to be rid of me?”

The Belrene rose and came to her. “Charis…”He said her name gently. “I have watched you since you came to the temple. Your dance is a rare gift, one that will be treasured forever. But you are no longer that wide-eyed girl, you are a woman now. Certainly you must have other dreams, other desires.”

“Back home, you said. I have no home, Belrene.”

“No home? Your father, as we all know, is King Avallach of Sarras. He must be proud of you, proud of your skill.”

“My father the king has never seen me dance.”

The Belrene nodded silently, then said, “The war, no doubt, prevents him from”

“His stupid war! All anyone talks about is that ridiculous war.” She turned abruptly away. “It is not the war.”

“You are famous throughout the Nine Kingdoms. You would be welcome anywhere-you could choose your home.”

“I already have, Belrene,” she said, smiling sadly. “The temple is my home. The ring is my home.”

“It will be your tomb as well.”

“Is that so bad? I pledged my life to the god many years ago.”

“Your life, yes. Not your death.”

“Life? Death? What does it matter? I am a sacrifice either way.”

The Belrene sighed and turned away. “That is all, Charis. You may go.”

She turned and moved to the door, pulled it open, hesitated, and then turned back. “Thank you, Belrene… I am sorry”

He held up his hands. “You owe me no apologies. Only promise me you will think about what I said.”

Charis ducked her head and hurried from the room, closing the door quickly behind her. Then she started down the corridor, slowly at first but with increasing speed until she was running, careening into a group of startled Mages who clutched at her to slow her as she passed. She fought free of them and rushed on blindly.