The Keeper’s Price

by Marion Zimmer Bradley

with Lisa Waters

The pain had started.

Hilary was aware of it even in her sleep, but, knowing that her body needed at least another two hours’ rest, she tried to ignore it. But the gnawing discomfort deep in her body would not be ignored; after an hour she gave up the futile attempt and threw on a robe, slipping silently down the stairs to the stillroom to make herself a cup of golden-flower tea. She knew from experience that it would numb the cramping pain, at least a little.

It might also, she thought, settling back into her bed, make her sleepy. At least that was what the other women said. Somehow it never seemed to work that way with Hilary. It only made her arms numb and her head feel fuzzy, and the room seemed unbearably warm as things swam in and out of focus. The effects of the tea wore off all too quickly, and the heavy cramping pains, contractions, Leonie called them, became worse and worse, moving up from her abdomen to her stomach to her heart, so that she felt constricted and aching, struggling for breath.

She had only to call, she knew, and someone would come. But in a Tower filled with telepaths, help would be there when she absolutely needed it. And she didn’t want to disturb anyone unless she had to.

After all, she thought wryly, this happens every forty days. They should be used to it by now. Just Hilary again, going through her usual crisis, disturbing everybody as usual.

The circle had been mining metal the night before, and everyone had gone to bed late and exhausted, especially Leonie. Leonie of Arilinn had been Keeper since she was a young girl; now she was an old woman - Hilary did not know how old - training Hilary and the new child, Callista Lanart, to be Keepers in her place.

For the last half-year Hilary had been able to work at Leonie’s side, during the heavy stresses of the work, taking some of the burden from the older woman. She wasn’t going to drag Leonie out of bed to hold her hand. They wouldn’t let her die. Maybe this month it would be only the cramping pain, the weakness; after all, there wasn’t a woman in Arilinn who didn’t have some trouble when her cycle started. It was simply one of the hazards of the work. Maybe this time it would subside, as it did in the other women, before she went into crisis, without the agonizing clearing of the channels… .

But they couldn’t wait too long, hoping it would clear spontaneously. Last time, wanting to spare her the excruciating ordeal, Leonie had waited too long; and Hilary had gone into convulsions. But that wouldn’t happen for hours, maybe for days. Let Leonie sleep as long as she could. She could bear the pain till then.

Hilary adored Leonie; the older woman had been like a mother to her ever since she had come to Arilinn, five years before, a lonely, frightened child of eleven, enduring the first testing of a girl with Comyn blood, the loneliness, the waiting until, when her woman’s cycles began, she could begin serious training as Keeper. She had been proud to be chosen for this. Most of the young people who came here were selected as monitor, mechanic, even technician - but very few had the talent or potential to be a Keeper, or could endure the long and difficult training. And now Hilary was near to that goal. Had all but achieved it; except for one thing. Every time, when her cycles started, there was the pain, the cramping contractions quickly escalating to agony, and sometimes to crisis and convulsions.

She knew why, of course. Like all matrix workers, she had begun her training as a monitor, learning the anatomy of the nerve channels which carried laran - and, unfortunately, also carried the sexual energies. Hilary had known, from the time she agreed to take training as a Keeper, that she must pay the Keeper’s price; ordinary sexuality was not for her, and she had solemnly sworn, at thirteen, a vow of perpetual chastity. She had been taught, in all kinds of difficult and somewhat frightening ways, to avoid in herself even the slightest sexual arousal, so that the lower nerve centers which would carry these energies were wholly dear and uncontaminated, the channels between the centers nonfunctional.

Only, somehow, the channels were not clear at this time, and it puzzled all of them. Hilary, who lived under Leonie’s immediate supervision, and rarely drew a breath Leonie did not know about, knew that her chastity was not suspect; so it had to be something else, perhaps some unsuspected weakness in the nerve centers.

The only thing that pulled Hilary through each moon, and sent her back to work again in the screens, was her desire not to fail Leonie. She could not leave Leonie to shoulder the burden alone, not when she was so close to her goal. Leonie had been letting her, now, take a part of the burden as Keeper, at the center of the circle, and Hilary knew, without conceit, that she was capable and strong, that she could handle the linked energies of a circle up to the fourth level without too much drain on her energies. Soon, now, Leonie would be free of at least a part of the burden.

Little Callista showed promise and talent; but she was only a child. It would be a year before she could begin serious training, though she was already living with the carefully supervised life of a pledged Keeper and had been allowed to make provisional vows; it would be years before she would be old enough to take on any part of the serious work. There was so much work to do, and so few to do it! Arilinn was not alone in this; every Tower in the Domains was short-handed.

The last effects of the tea were gone. Outside the window it was sunrise, but no one was stirring. Now the pains seemed to double her into a tight ball; she rolled herself up and moaned to herself.

Dont be silly, she told herself. Youre acting like a baby. When this is over youll hardly remember how much it hurt.

Yes, but how much longer can I stand this?

As long as you have to. You know that. What good is your training, if you cant stand a little pain?

Another wave of pain washed over her, effectively silencing the inner dialogue. Hilary concentrated on her breathing, trying to still herself, to let the breath flow in and out quietly, one by one monitoring channel after channel, trying to ease the flow of the currents. But the pains were so violent that she could not concentrate.

It’s never been this bad before! Never!

Hilary? It was the gentlest of whispers. Callista was bending over her, a slight long-legged girl, her red hair loosely tied back, a heavy robe flung over her nightgown. She was barefoot. Hilary, what is it?

Hilary gasped, breathing hard.

Just - the usual thing.

I’d better get Leonie.

Not yet, Hilary whispered, I can manage a little longer. Stay with me though. Please… .

Of course, Callista said. Hilary, your nightgown is soaking wet; you’d better get out of it. You’ll feel better when you’re dried off.

Hilary managed to pull herself upright, to slide out of the gown, drenched with her own sweat. Callista brought her a dry one from her chest, held it while Hilary slipped it over her head; maneuvering deftly, so carefully that she did not touch Hilary even with a fingertip.

She is learning, Hilary thought, and looked with wry detachment at the small scarred-over burns on her own hands; remnants of the first year of her training. In that year she had been so conditioned to avoid a touch, that the slightest touch of living flesh would create a deep blistered burn exactly as if the other flesh were a live coal. Callista’s scars were still red and raw; even now she would punish herself with a deep burn if she touched anyone even accidentally. Later, when the conditioning was complete, the command would be removed - Hilary was no longer forbidden to touch anyone, the prohibition was no longer needed; she could touch or be touched, with great caution, if it was unavoidable - but no one touched a Keeper; even in the matrix chamber, a Keeper was robed in crimson so that no one would touch her when she was carrying the load of the energons. And among themselves, even when the conditioning was no more than a memory, they used the lightest of fingertip-touches, more symbolic than real. Hilary, settling back on the clean dry pillow - Callista had changed the pillow-cover, too - wished rather wistfully that she could hold someone’s hand. But such a touch would torment Callista and probably wouldn’t make her feel any better.

It’s really bad this time, isn’t it, Hilary?

Hilary nodded, thinking, She is still young enough to feel compassion. She hasn’t yet been dehumanized… .

You’re lucky, Hilary said with effort. Still too young to go through this. Maybe it won’t be so bad for you… .

I don’t know how you bear it-

Neither do I, Hilary murmured, doubling up again under the fresh wave of violent pain, and Callista stood helpless, wondering why Hilary’s struggles hadn’t yet waked. Leonie.

I made her promise to sleep in one of the insulated rooms last night, Hilary said, picking the unspoken question out of the child’s mind.

Did you get all the copper mined?

No; Romilla broke the circle early; Damon had to carry Leonie to her room, she couldn’t walk… .

She’s been working too hard, Callista said, but Lord Serrais will be upset; he’s been badgering us for that copper since midsummer.

He won’t get it at all if we kill Leonie with overwork, Hilary said, and I’m no good one tenday out of every four.

Maybe overworking is why you get so sick, Hilary.

I’d get sick anyway. But overworking does seem to make it worse, Hilary muttered, I don’t have the strength to fight off the pain anymore.

I wish I’d hurry and grow up so I could be trained, and help you both, Callista said, but suddenly she was frightened. Would this happen to her too?

Take your time, Callista, you’re only eleven… . I’m glad your training is going so well, Hilary murmured, Leonie says you are going to be really great, better than I am, so much better… . we need Keepers so badly, so badly… .

Hilary, hush, don’t try to talk. Just try to even out your breathing.

Ill live. I always do. But I’m glad you’re doing so well. I’m so afraid… .

That you won’t be able to work as a Keeper anymore?

Yes, but I have to, Callista, I have to-

No you don’t, said the younger girl, perching on the end of Hilary’s bed, Leonie will release you, if it’s really too much for you. I heard her tell Damon so.

Of course she will, Hilary whispered, but I don’t want her to be alone with all the weight of the work again. I love her, Callista… .

Of course you do, Hilary. We all do. I do, too.

She’s worked so hard, all her life - we can’t let her down now! We can’t! Hilary struggled upright, gasping. The others - there were six others who tried and failed, and there were so many times she tried to train a Keeper only to have her leave and marry - and Callista, she’s not young, not strong enough anymore, we may be her last chance, she may not be strong enough to train Keepers after us, we have to succeed - it could be the end of Arilinn, Callista-

Lie down, Hilary. Don’t upset yourself like this. Just relax, try to get control of your breathing, now. Hilary lay back on the bed, while Callista came and bent over her. Light was beginning to filter through the window of her room. She did not speak as Callista bent over her, but her thoughts were as tormented as her body. There must be Keepers, otherwise darkness and ignorance closed over the Domains. And she could not fail, could not let Leonie down.

Callista ran her small hands over Hilary’s body, not touching her; about an inch from the surface of the nightgown. Her face was intent, remote.ˇ After a little she said, troubled, I’m not very good at this yet. But it looks as if the lower centers were involved, and the solar plexus too, already - Hilary, I’d better waken Leonie.

Wordless, Hilary shook her head. Not yet. The cramping pain had moved all through her body now, so that she found it hard to breathe, and Callista looked down, deeply troubled. She said, Why does it happen, Hilary? It doesn’t happen with the other women - I’ve monitored them during their cycles - and they- She stopped, turning her eyes away; there were some things from which a Keeper turned her mind and her words away as she would have turned her physical eyes from an obscenity; but they both knew what the quick equivocal glance meant: and they are not even virgins… .

I don’t know, Callista. I swear I don’t, Hilary said, feeling again the terrifying sting of guilt. What forbidden thing can I have done, not knowing, that the channels are not clear? How can I have become contaminated … what is wrong with me? I have kept my vows, I have touched no one, I have not even thought any forbidden thought, and yet … and yet … another wave of pain struck her, so that she turned over, biting her lip hard, feeling it break and blood run down her chin; she did not want Callista to see, but the child was still in rapport with her from the monitoring, and she gasped with the physical assault of it.

Callista, I have tried so hard, I don’t know what I have done, and I can’t let her down, I can’t … Hilary gasped, but the words were so blurred and incoherent that the young girl heard them only in her mind; Hilary was struggling for breath.

Hilary, Never mind, just lie quiet, try to rest.

I can’t - I can’t - I’ve got to know what I have done wrong.

Callista was only eleven; but she had spent almost a year in the Tower, a year of intense and specialized training; she recognized that Hilary was fast slipping into the delirium of first-stage crisis. She ran out of the room, hurrying up the narrow stairs to the insulated room where Leonie slept. She pounded on the door, knowing that this summons would rouse Leonie at once; no one in Arilinn would venture to disturb Leonie now except for a major emergency.

After - a moment the door opened, and Leonie, very pale, her graying hair in two long braids over her shoulders, came to the door. What is it? Callista, child! She caught the message before Callista could speak a word.

Hilary again? Ah, merciful Avarra, I had hoped that this time she would escape it-

Then her stern gaze flickered down Callista; the robe buttoned askew, the nightgown dragging beneath it, the bare feet.

This is no way for a Keeper to appear before anyone! The harsh reproof of the thought was like a mental slap, though aloud she only said, and her voice was mild, Suppose one of the others had seen you like this, child? A Keeper must always present a picture of perfect decorum. Go and make yourself tidy, at once!

But Hilary- Callista opened her mouth to protest, caught Leonie’s eyes, dropped her own gray eyes and murmured, Yes, my mother.

You need not dress if your robe is properly fastened. When you are perfectly tidy, go and send Damon to Hilary; this is too serious for Romilla alone. And I will come when I can.

Callista wanted to protest - Waste time in dressing myself when Hilary is so sick? She could be dying! - but she knew this was all a part of the discipline which would make her, over the years, into a schooled, inhumanly perfect machine, like Leonie herself. Quickly she brushed her red hair and braided it tightly along her neck, slipped into a fresh robe and low indoor boots of velvet which concealed her bare ankles; then she knocked at the door of the young technician, Damon Ridenow, and gave her message.

Come with me, Damon said, and Callista followed him down the stairs, into Hilary’s room.

A Keeper must always present a picture of perfect decorum - even so, Callista was shocked at the effort Hilary made to compose her limbs, her voice, her face. She went and stood beside Hilary, looking compassionately down at her, wishing she could help somehow.

Damon sighed and shook his head as he looked down at Hilary’s racked body, her bitten lips. He was a slight, dark man with a sensitive, ascetic face, the compassion in it carefully schooled to impassivity in a Keeper’s presence. Yet it carne through, a touch of faint humanity behind the calm mask.

Again, chiya? I had hoped the new medicines would help this time. How heavy is the bleeding?

I don’t know- Hilary was trying hard to control her voice; Damon frowned a little, and shook his head. He said to Callista, I don’t suppose - no, you cannot touch anyone yet, can you, child? Leonie will be here soon, she will know-

Leonie, when she came, was as calm, as carefully put together as if she were facing the Council. I am here, child, she said, laying the lightest of touches on Hilary’s wrist, and the very touch seemed to quiet Hilary somewhat, as if it stabilized her ragged breathing. But she whispered, I’m so sorry, Leonie - I didn’t want to - I can’t let you down - I can’t, I can’t-

Hush, hush, child. Don’t waste your strength, Leonie commanded, and behind the harshness of the words there was tenderness, too. Callista, did you monitor her?

Callista, biting her lip, composed herself to make a formal report on what she had discovered. The older telepaths listened, and Damon went over the monitoring process for himself, sinking his mental awareness into the girl’s tormented body, pointing out to Callista what she had missed.

The knots in the arms; that is only tension, but painful. The bleeding is heavy, yes, but not dangerously. Did you check the lower channels?

Callista shook her head and Damon said, Do it now. And test for contamination.

Callista hesitated, her hands a considerable distance from Hilary, and Damon’s voice was harsh.

You know how to test her. Do it.

Callista drew a deep breath, schooling her face to the absolute impassivity she knew she must maintain or be punished. She dared not even form clearly the thought, Im sorry, Hilary, I don’t want to hurt you - she focused on her matrix, then lowered her awareness into the electrical potential of the channels. Hilary screamed. Callista flinched and recoiled, but Leonie had seen, and forced swift rapport so that Callista, immobilized, felt the wave of sharp pain flood through her as well. She knew the lesson intended - you must maintain absolute detachment - and forced her face and her voice to quiet, concealing the resentment she felt.

Both channels are contaminated, the left somewhat more than the right; the right only in the nerve nodes, the left all the way from the center complex. There are three focuses of resistance on the left-

Damon sighed. Well, Hilary, he said gently, you know as well as I what must be done. If we wait much longer, you will go into convulsions again.

Hilary flinched inwardly with dread, out her face showed nothing, and somewhere, in a remote corner of her being, she was proud of her control.

Go and fetch some kirian, Callista, there is no sense waking anyone else for this, Leonie said, and when the child returned with it, she was about to run away. But Leonie said, This time, you must stay, Callista. There may be times when you must do this unaided, and it is not too early to learn every step of the process.

Callista met Hilary’s eyes, and there was a flash of rebellion in them. She thought, I could never hurt anyone like that … but despite her’ terrible fear, she forced herself to stand quiet.

Will they make me go through it this time in rapport with her … ?

Damon held Hilary’s hand, giving her the telepathic drug which would, a little, ease the resistances to what contact they must make with her mind and body, clearing the channel. Hilary was incoherent now, slipping rapidly into delirium; her thoughts blurred, and Callista could hardly make them out.

Once again to lie still and let myself be cut into pieces and then stitched back together again, that is what it feels like … and they are training even little Callista to be a torturer’s assistant … to stand by without a flicker of pity… .

Gently, gently, my darling, Leonie said, and the compassion and dread would communicate itself to Hilary and added, when it is over, it will be better.

She is so cruel, and so kind, how do I know which is real? Callista could not tell whether it was her own thought or Hilary’s. She knew she was tense, numb with fear, and forced herself to breathe deeply and relax, fearing that her own tension and dread would communicate itself to Hilary and add to the other girl’s ordeal; and she watched with amazement and dread as Hilary’s taut face relaxed, wondered at the discipline which let Hilary go limp; Callista forced herself to calm, to detachment, watching every step of the long and agonizing process of clearing the blocked nerve channels.

When they were sure she wasn’t going to die, not this time anyway, they left her sleeping - Callista, feeling Hilary slip down into the heaviness of sleep under the sedative they had given her, felt almost light-headed with relief; at least she was free of pain! Damon went to find himself a delayed breakfast, and Leonie, in the hallway outside Hilary’s door, said softly, I am sorry you had to endure that, little one, but it was time for you to learn; and you needed the practice in detachment. Come, she will sleep all day and perhaps most of the night, and when she wakes, she will be well. And next month we must make sure she does not overwork herself this way at this time.

When they were in Leonie’s rooms, facing one another over the small table set in the window, and Leonie was pouring for them from the heavy silver pot, Callista felt tears flooding the back of her throat. Leonie said quietly, You can cry now, if you must, Callista. But it would be better if you could learn to master your tears, too.

Callista bent her head with a silent struggle; finally she said, Leonie, it was worse this time, wasn’t it? She’s been getting worse; hasn’t she?

I’m afraid so; ever since she began work with the energons. Last time it took her three days to build up enough energy leakage to go into crisis.

Does she know?

No. She doesn’t remember much of what happens when she’s in pain.

But Leonie - she wants, so terribly, not to disappoint you- and so do I, thought Callista, struggling again with her tears.

I know, Callista, but she’ll die if she keeps this up. She is simply too frail to endure the stress. There may be some kind of inborn weakness in the channels - I am to blame, that I accepted her without being certain there was no such physical weakness. Yet she has such talent and skill- Leonie shook her head sorrowfully. You may not believe it, Callista, but I would gladly take all her pain upon myself if it would cure her. I feel I cannot bear to hurt her again like that!

Before the vehemence in the older woman’s voice Callista was shocked and amazed.

Can she still feel? I thought she had taught herself to be wholly indifferent to the sufferings of others, and she would have me.

No, Leonie said, with a remote sadness, I am not indifferent to suffering, Callista.

But you hurt me so, this morning.

And I will hurt you again, as often as I must, Leonie said, but, believe me, child, I would so much rather … She could not finish, but, in shock, Callista realized that she meant what she said; Leonie would willingly suffer for her, too … suddenly, Callista knew that instead of indifference, Leonie’s level voice held agonized restraint.

My mother, Callista burst out, through the restraint, will I suffer so, when I am become a woman?

Could I endure it? Time and again, to be torn by that kind of pain … and then to be torn apart by the clearing process…

I do not know, dear child. I truly hope not.

Did you? But Callista knew she would never dare to put her unspoken question into words. Leonie’s restraint had gone so deep that even to herself she had probably barricaded even the memory of pain.

Isn’t there anything we can do?

For Hilary? Probably not. Except to care for her while we can, and when it is truly too much for her to endure, release her. It seemed now to Callista that Leonie’s calm was sadder than tears or hysterical weeping. But for you - I do not know. Perhaps. You might not wish it. lf I had my way, Leonie said, every girl coming to work here as Keeper would be neutered before she comes to womanhood!

Callista flinched as if the Keeper had spoken an obscenity; indeed, by Comyn standards she had. But she said obediently, If that is your will, my mother-

Leonie shook her head. The laws forbid it. I wonder if the Council know what they are doing to you with their concern? But there is another way. You know that we cannot begin your training until your cycles of womanhood are established-

The monitors have said it will be more than a year.

That is late; which means there is still time.

Callista had eagerly awaited the first show of blood, which would mean that she was a woman grown, ready to begin her serious training as Keeper; now she had begun to think of it with dread. Leonie said, If we were to begin your training now, it would make certain physical alterations in your body; and the cycles probably would not begin at all. This is why we are not supposed to begin this training until the Keeper-novice is come to womanhood, the training changes a body still immature. And then you would never have the problem Hilary has had … but I cannot do this without your consent, even to save you suffering.

To be spared what Hilary suffered? Callista wondered why Leonie should hesitate a moment.

Because it might mean much to you, when you are older, Leonie said. You might wish to leave, to marry.

Callista made a gesture of repugnance. She had been taught to turn her thoughts away from such things; in her innocence she felt only the most enormous contempt for the relationship between men and women. Secure in her chastity, she wondered why Leonie believed she could ever be false to the pledge she had sworn to perpetual virginity.

I will never wish to marry. Such things are not for me, she said, and Leonie shook her head, with a little sigh.

It would mean that you would remain much as you are now, for the cycles would not begin… .

Do you mean I wouldn’t grow up? Callista did not think she wished to remain always a child.

Oh, yes, Leonie said, You would grow up, but without that token of womanhood.

But since I am sworn to be Keeper, said Callista, who had been taught a considerable amount of anatomy and knew, at least technically, what that maturity meant, I do not see why I should need it.

Leonie smiled faintly. You are right, of course. I would that I had been spared it, all those many years.

Callista looked at her in surprise and wonder; never had Leonie spoken to her like this, or loosened even a little the cold barricade she kept against any kind of personal revelation.

So she is not … not superhuman. She is only a woman, like Hilary or Romilla or … or me … she can weep and suffer … I thought, when I was grown, when I had learned my lessons well and had come to be Keeper, that I would learn not to feel such things or to suffer with them… . It was a terrifying thought, a new terror among the terrors she had known here, that she would not safely outgrow those feelings. She had believed that her own sufferings were only because she was a child, not yet perfected in learning. I had believed that to be a Keeper one must outgrow these feelings, that one reason I was not yet ready was that I still had not learned to stop feeling so… .

Leonie watched her, without speaking, her face remote and sad.

She is such a child, she is only now beginning to guess at the price of being Keeper…

But all she said aloud was, You are right, of course, my dearest; since you are sworn to be Keeper, you do not need that, and you will be better without it, and if we should begin your training now, you, will be spared.

Again she hesitated and warned, You know it is against custom. You will be asked if I have fully explained it to you, what it will mean, and if you are truly willing; because I couldˇ not, under the laws made by those who have never stepped inside a Tower and would not be accepted if they did, do this to you without your free consent. Do you completely understand this, Callista ?

And Callista thought, She speaks as if it were a great price I must pay, that I might be unwilling. As if it were deprivation, something taken from me. Instead it means only that I can be Keeper, and that I need not pay the terrible price Hilary has had to pay.

I understand, Leonie, she said, steadily, and I am willing. When can I begin?

As soon as you like, then; Callista.

But why, Callista wondered, does Leonie look so sad?

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