n't . . . couldn't do what he thought she wanted. He
hesitated, tried to explain. "Speaker, I can't make love to you," he
said desperately, forcing himself to speak quietly though his words
came out in short, harsh phrases. "It just isn't done. Even if you
weren't a priestess. We aren't married. I gave up wanting a
family . . . I just can't!"

When he became silent, Daria said softly, "You joined Ch'kara."

"I had to. To take the Ordeal." Tarlac was still staring at her hand,
and sat frozen where he was as she moved to a place beside him.

Ah, the Ordeal, she thought compassionately. Perhaps if he knew this
was part of the Ordeal, showing he was able to share in the creation of
a new life? Then she decided against telling him. It would be better
if he did not know just yet, if he did this freely rather than from a
sense of obligation. "Ruhar, please. Let me help. I can ease the ill
that has been done you, perhaps cure it. You need not suffer as you
do."

"Ill?" After a few moments, the Ranger was able to look up into
sympathetic amber eyes. "I'm not suffering, I like what I do. You
just, well, surprised me. I didn't mean to offend you. If I did, I'm
sorry."

She'd shocked the hell out of him, would be more accurate, but he had
regained some control and did regret any distress he might have caused
her. More, he was angry at himself for losing control in the first
place. It was about time he started thinking with something more than
his cultural prejudices. Dammit, he was supposed to be able to adapt
to just about any circumstances. So why shouldn't he accept this?

Unless she was right, and something in Terran culture had warped him.

Or--maybe not warped him, but been mistaken about him. He'd lost his
reserve far too easily in the short time he'd spent aboard the
Hermnaen, and here in-clan, for real detachment to have been an
integral part of him. He'd enjoyed--until now--the Traiti closeness
that was unacceptable in Terran society at present.

That had to be it. The tests, reliable as they were, weren't
infallible; they'd missed Shining Arrow's need for closeness. Given
his own isolated childhood, it wasn't surprising they'd missed the same
need in him--a need he hadn't even known, in Terran society, that he
had.

And that was his key. This wasn't Terra. This was the Traiti
Homeworld, and physical expression of affection was the norm here. He
closed his eyes and took several deep