An Oath to Mida

7 The white land—and a punishment for escape

In the next three feyd, I was not again allowed alone from the dwelling, yet twice each fey was I placed before the leafless tree. At these times Lialt sat beside me, speaking little yet ever present, a thing I cared little for. When in the dwelling, either alone or with none save Tarla about, I had worked much toward restoring my strength, flexing arms and legs and thighs, placing my full weight slowly yet completely as it should be. A dozen times had I walked the length of the dwelling, Tarla seeing none of this, at first stiffly and with much pain, at last nearly as easily as I had done before my meeting with the Silla, and greatly pleased was I that my strength had returned so quickly. Yet there was another thing which disturbed me, a problem I had no solution to, a problem first spoken of by Ceralt upon his return, two feyd after she called Famira had approached me. At his arrival, I sat upon the lenga pelt in my dwelling, again seeing to the removal of knots from my hair, and his grin was large indeed as he approached.

“Your ability in healing has my greatest admiration, brother,” said he to Lialt who had accompanied him. “Her skin has again the look of life to it, and her body seems even this soon to have regained a deal of flesh. She will look well in the circle with my leather about her, of this I have no doubt.”

“Indeed,” nodded Lialt, also agrin. “She regains her vitality so quickly that even I am amazed. Perhaps she may be circled the next moon—with Famira to accompany her. Your riders seem pleased that Famira may now be looked upon.”

“They are extremely pleased,” laughed Ceralt, his eyes yet upon me. “My uncle has too long presumed upon the lack of a woman of his own to keep his daughter from circling. Should he need his halyar tended to, there are sufficient females about who have been left without a man, and he may choose from among those. Famira goes to one who shall not be a father to her.”

“A thing she does not care for,” chuckled Lialt, his eyes, too, upon me. “Much did she rage and carry on when your decision reached her, for she hoped to be the one to choose to whom she would go. Drimin would have been her choice, for he is unusually shy with wenches and would have easily been controlled by her, yet Drimin shall not return from the rounds of trade till after she has been circled. A full rider shall have her, and not she him.”

“Such shall prove best for her,” murmured Ceralt, bending to me to put the backs of his fingers to my cheek. “A strong wench requires a stronger man if she is to find happiness and pleasure.”

In anger, I struck his hand from me, yet he did no more than laugh and stand erect again. His eyes were filled with great desire, and once he had gone, I examined my ribs in misery. In truth, my appetite of late had been immense, and the gauntness I had been so pleased with was nearly gone. No more than three feyd had passed, yet the gauntness was nearly gone! I took the wooden comb in my hand and threw it from me, watching in great anger as it struck the wall of the dwelling and fell to the floor. A warrior had no need to understand the doings of Mida, merely had she to accept them, yet the acceptance of what had been done to me was difficult indeed. In no way save through Mida’s intervention could I have regained my former appearance, and much did I wish to rail at such a doing. Now I was again pleasing to males, again the object of their desire, a thing which would make escape much more difficult. I lay upon my belly in the lenga furs, angry, hurt, miserable. Was it Mida’s wish that I again be punished for some error or omission? Had I failed again to obey her commands, or was I still condemned for earlier failures? I knew not which it was, and very nearly cared naught for the meaning. Much had I striven to obey Mida, and much had I been punished for my failures, yet now it seemed that I might not be given further opportunity for obedience. Again I feared that I had been given into the hands of males forever, and I fretted the point till sickness filled me, yet when Tarla brought my provender at darkness, I could do naught save fall upon it. A warrior’s strength, it seemed, was to be returned to her, yet not without a price. I fed upon the provender, seeing little else which might be done, and thought only of the time when I might find escape.

Upon the fourth fey, seeing that little had been accomplished by pretense of weakness—the males had continued to force the potion of sleep upon me—and driven nearly mad by the long confinement, I determined that that fey I would walk about my place of capture. When Lialt arrived to carry me to the tree, he discovered Jalav erect upon her feet, prepared to walk about wherever needful. Tarla had been startled by my mobility, yet Lialt appeared to have expected some such. No more was needed than a small amount of argument before it was established that I might go where I would with none save Tarla accompanying me. Such a decision pleased me, for Tarla was neither warrior nor male, and should the opportunity arise, escape from her would not be difficult.

With Lialt gone upon his way, Tarla and I emerged from the dwelling into a fey which was lacking in brightness. Gray were the skies above us, high yet seemingly not far distant, and the cold of the air was quiet, with no wind to disturb it. I shivered in my leather garment, smelling a smell upon the air which I knew not, and Tarla also looked about herself.

“Perhaps this winter the snows may come early,” said she, her nostrils flaring slightly, showing that she, too, was aware of the smell in the air. “Lialt has said that the snows shall not this soon be upon us, yet this fey may prove him wrong.”

“Tarla,” said I, looking upon her, “what might ‘snows’ be? I have heard mention of it, yet never have I been told the meaning of the thing.”

The female’s dark eyes left off their roving and came to me with surprise strong in them. “Have you never seen snow, Jalav?” she asked, her head to one side. “Your land must be strange indeed never to have produced snow.”

“My land is ever warm,” said I, somewhat annoyed with her tone, “not bleak and lifeless as the land hereabouts. Sooner would I have the warmth.”

“And I would not have missed knowing snow,” said she with a shrug. “Perhaps you may judge more accurately when once you have seen it. Snow, Jalav, comes from the skies in the manner of rain, yet it is white and light and silent and able to fill the entire land with its presence. It lies upon the ground, often in mounds, and is very cold to the touch. Children joy in playing in it, yet it is difficult to travel about in it. Such is snow—both a joy and a difficulty.”

“I see,” said I, moving slowly across the ground as I thought upon her words. Snow, then, was Mida-sent, yet I was unable to visualize what the occurrence must be like. Surely Tarla must partly be in error, for how might the substance fall lightly yet lie heavily upon the ground? Deeply did I sigh then, wishing myself more than ever back among the Midanna, where a warrior might know the why of things about her. The lands of males held naught save questions without answers, problems without solutions, ills without cures. Even Mida’s ground lay hard and cold beneath one’s feet, bringing about the necessity for furs upon one’s legs, garments upon one’s body. Much did I dislike the presence of such things yet, in the lands of males, they were necessary.

Tarla and I walked from the vicinity of my dwelling, yet I was not yet of a mind to enter further into the village. Many village folk were about, as seemed to be usual, and no wish had I to join them in their movings about. Rather, I walked toward the enclosure of the white beasts, wishing to see more of them, feeling my curiosity aroused. Within the enclosure were a number of males, they being watched by a number of females who stood beyond the confines of the enclosure, and much pleased did the females seem to be. Their voices rose in great excitement and laughter, their hands clasped or pounded upon the wood of the enclosure, and clearly were they unable to keep from jumping about where they stood, Tarla, too, laughed softly as she looked upon them, yet I saw naught which might call for amusement.

“Let us hurry, Jalav,” said Tarla, taking a grip upon the leather of my sleeve, her eyes yet upon the enclosure. “The riders are about to break more of the lanthay to the rein, and we are in time to watch. Hurry, Jalav, hurry!”

Such was the urgency in the young female’s tone that I quickened my pace as she had asked, though I knew not the reason for haste. Shortly we stood before the enclosure, which was made of logs hewn from trees, they then being bound with much leather to upright posts at each end. These logs stood my height from the ground, a height which allowed the beasts, apparently called lanthay, to place no more than their heads and necks above the obstruction to their freedom. The village females, in high good humor, peered between the logs at that which was occurring within the enclosure, yet I, taller than they, found the position uncomfortable. I gazed a moment at the logs before me, then, with some noticeable protest from my healing wounds, climbed the logs to their top, thereby obtaining an unrestricted view of the goings-on within.

Perhaps two hands of males stood within the enclosure, most with the short, heavy twisting of leather usually worn at their belts now in their hands, their attention upon the greater number of lanthay which had been herded toward the far end of the area. As I settled myself atop the highest post, two of the males cracked their twisted leather whips toward the herded lanthay, causing them to move backward from the line of males. The balance of the males looked toward three who stood closer to the post I sat upon, they three being engaged with a single lanthay which obviously had not yet been shown the superiority of two-legged beasts. The lanthay stood much as unbroken gandod do, four legs spread wide against the bending of its neck by two of the males, its head and ears firmly in their grasp, its entire body attempting to pull loose from that which held it. The two males strained to keep the beast still while the third placed a wide leather strap about its middle, just above the shoulders. The third male worked quickly, and when the strap had been set he grasped a leather lead which led to the beast’s mouth, mounted in one smooth leap, clutched the strap with his right hand while keeping the lead in his left, and shouted to the two males who held the lanthay. At his shout, the two males moved as one, throwing themselves from the sides of the lanthay, running rapidly in opposite directions. In Midanna lands, there had sometimes been gandod who had not realized that they had been freed, gandod who stood with jaws bound shut yet otherwise free, but unmoving as though they were still held. The lanthay before me had no such misconceptions, for as soon as it was released, it screamed its rage, throwing its head back in an attempt to strike the puny annoyance upon it and free itself completely. The male wisely avoided the thrust of the white, furred head, which further enraged the beast. It reared high and smote the air with battering hooves while screaming its challenge to all within hearing, then began jumping about and kicking out with its rear hooves. The male upon its back clung with hands and knees, clung through the trumpeting challenge and bone-jarring leaps, clung through the shaking and twisting, already beginning to use the leather rein to curtail and guide his mount. The lanthay jumped stiff-legged toward the wall of the enclosure, blazing rage in its large, red eyes, and the females who stood there screamed and backed hurriedly away, fearful lest the beast come through the wall at them. The male attempted to force his mount back toward the center of the enclosure, yet his efforts were in vain. I, having seen such behavior from gandod many times, merely gripped the log I sat upon as the giant lanthay hurled itself against the logs of the enclosure, attempting to crush the life from the male upon its back. The logs trembled to the onslaught., too sturdy to sway as a lighter wall might, yet not untouched by the attack. The males within the enclosure, those keeping the herd of other lanthay at bay, called out to the rider with laughter and encouragement and advice, all watching attentively, none seeming concerned. Tarla, who had joined the watching females, now stood back from the wall with them, alarmed, as were the others, and then, amid the screams of fright, the male upon the lanthay behaved foolishly. The beast had been twisting toward the wall, hoping to scrape the male from his seat, and the male, fearing that his right leg would be crushed between the beast and the wood, shifted his weight and knee grip. As swiftly as lightning strikes from Mida’s skies, so swiftly did the lanthay see the meaning of the movement upon its back, and immediately it, too, moved to advantage. Its head went down as its hind quarters erupted toward the skies, and the male, no longer deeply seated, was thrown to the ground over the lanthay’s head. He struck the ground heavily, pain flashing across his face as the metal of his belt was driven into his back, yet this was not his most pressing problem. The lanthay, knowing that that which lay before it was the enemy which had dared to mount it, sounded its challenge once again, then made for the male. He upon the ground knew well that the lanthay wished his blood, for he made haste to roll from the path of the thundering hooves which were meant to take the life from him, his effort taking him to safety by no more than a finger’s width. Upon the charge of the lanthay, those two males who had aided the third to mount, raced forward with twisted leather flails cracking, and drove the lanthay from him upon the ground. Such foolishness caused me to laugh softly, for among the Midanna there would have been none to chase the gando from him. A warrior knows that should she show weakness before any gando, even one broken to the rein, the gando will strike immediately, taking her life if possible. A warrior who wishes to teach a gando mastery does so alone, for there may not be others about should the gando, one fey, revert. A Hosta who has taken seat upon a new mount is then alone, to overcome or be overcome. In no other way might Midanna use the gando with confidence.

The male upon the ground looked about himself, then rose to his feet and brushed the dirt from his leathers, also putting a hand to his back where the fall had hurt him. His eyes slid past the knot of anxious females, who still gazed upon the retreating, trumpeting lanthay with fear, then came to rest upon me where I sat atop the wall. The garment I wore was a great annoyance, nearly too tight to allow me my seat upon the wall, yet I paid it little mind as I gazed upon the male. He, large and strongly made, dark of hair and eye as were the others, frowned as he looked upon me, then moved the closer.

“Your amusement is offensive, wench,” said he in a rasp of a voice, looking up to where I sat. “Should you be made to take seat upon a wild lanthay, your own self, you would find little to amuse you!”

“It was not the ride which was amusing,” said I, the still grinning. “Males must ever seek the aid of others, unable to do a thing themselves. Should you have been alone with the beast, upon a plains, perhaps, would you also have allowed it the opportunity to reach you as you did just now?”

The male stood angrily, fists on hips, face raised toward me, yet he made no answer, for the answer was clear. Had he been alone, his effort would have been greater; he had allowed the presence of others to lull his achievement from him. No warrior would have behaved so, and his skin darkened with annoyance and perhaps humiliation.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his brows creased in a frown. “What village do you come from that you feel free to speak to a rider so?”

“I come from no village,” I replied, raising my head somewhat. “I am of the Hosta of the Midanna, a people far superior to those of any village. The males hereabouts would find little patience for their lacks in the land of the Midanna.”

I spoke with some annoyance, for I tired of the manner in which males addressed me. No respect had they for a war leader, and much would I have joyed in leading my warriors against them. The male before me frowned further, then his features cleared as a malicious grin touched him.

“You are the savage wench fetched here by Ceralt!” said he, his large hands reaching forth to grasp the logs of the wall as he pulled himself up to sit beside me. His eyes moved about me in a manner he had not used before, and he laughed as my chin rose high in insult. “I now see why Ceralt is eager for you to circle,” said he with a chuckle. “You are indeed a beauty, made to inspire a man to high achievement in the furs. Perhaps my leather, too, shall await you from without the circle.”

I cared little for the words and look of the male, and less for the intimidation that I would soon be chosen by any who desired me. Bleakly I looked upon the male and shook my head.

“Jalav has ever chosen her males,” said I. “A thing which those of the villages shall learn. I am not to be chosen as though I were slave, male, and I shall not remain prisoned here forever. With Mida’s aid, I shall once again ride with my warriors, and then must those of the villages beware.”

“Female warriors!” laughed he beside me, striking his thigh in high amusement. “Such a battle would indeed be enjoyable, nearly as enjoyable as the following victory celebration. I would pierce many of you wenches with my sword—but not the sword carried in my hand—and then would you be made to serve me on bended knee, a fitting punishment for wenches who dared to try their strength with men!”

Others of the males had joined us, and they, too, raised their voices in laughter and derision. I looked upon the males as they stood about, recalling a time when strangers—males—had entered the lands of the Midanna, from whence, none knew. Hunting parties of Helda and Hitta had been taken by them, the males using ropes of leather to snare the warriors from the backs of kand, allowing some warriors to escape as though their freedom were of no consequence. Quickly had the escaped warriors alerted their sister clans, and many Midanna had ridden forth, the Hosta, being closest, the first to arrive. Much had the males abused the warriors they had taken, and great was the rage of the Hosta upon seeing this. With deliberation were the males encircled, and then the Hosta, on foot, showed themselves. The males, large, armed, in numbers equal to the Hosta who had ridden forth, had grinned and risen to their feet, intent upon drawing the Hosta, too, within the forest clearing where they held those previously taken. The males had drawn swords negligently, laughing, thinking to take the Hosta as easily by sword as they had taken the Helda and Hitta with leather. Upon seeing their advance, I had signaled the attack, and Hosta warriors, joyfully shouting their battle cry, had fallen upon them. Quickly, then, had the males’ laughter ceased, and they fought desperately for their lives, for they were not as well versed in swords as they were with leather. He who had stood before me had had hair of red, his pale skin paling further as he attempted to keep my point from him. With kill-lust burning high within me, I struck at him with my sword, right thigh, left arm, head and chest. He had had attempted to meet the movements of mine, yet his sword had failed to do so, crying out when my edge had opened his arm and leg, losing precious moments to pain and fear as I moved in for the kill. When he lay in spreading blood at my feet, my sword adrip with his life essence, when all the males had been done so, the Hosta had raised their arms to Mida, dedicating the blood and males to her who watched over her daughters. Well did Midanna know the use of a sword, and perhaps, should it be the will of Mida, these males before me would, to their sorrow, learn this as had others before them.

I looked again upon the male who sat beside me, and smiled in fond remembrance. “May Mida hear your wish for battle and grant your plea,” said I to him, much pleased with such a thought. I then began to climb down from the wall, seeing glancingly that the humor had left a number of the males who had heard my words, yet he who sat upon the wall was not one of them.

“My sword would seek you first, wench,” he called after me, laughing yet in great good humor. “Now that I have seen you, I think the time is ripe to show Ceralt that there are other men in this village.”

The words he spoke had no meaning for me, yet they seemed to affect the others who stood about. The males, in their leathers and silver-chased belts, looked quietly upon one another with looks which seemed to hold meaning for them, while the females, some yet laughing delightedly over that which had been said to me, gazed solely at me with an insolence which brought a great deal of annoyance. Tarla stood apart from them, showing much distress upon her child’s face as she looked upon him astride the wall. The thought came that perhaps she knew the male’s meaning, yet it mattered not. He upon the wall was merely male, of no great consideration nor concern. I took myself toward Tarla and past her, wondering yet again how one walked any great distances in the fur leg wrappings. The weight of them dragged one’s feet to the ground, slowing the step and destroying the pace that is able to take one so far. In a scant moment, Tarla’s hurrying footsteps brought her in my wake, leaving the laughter and strangers behind us.

The fey remained gray about us as we walked further toward the heart of the village, and a small wind had begun which blew my unbound hair about my arms and thighs. With the wind, the cold had increased, and I quickly saw the value in drawing the leather ties of one’s garment as tightly as possible. Tarla, by my side, glanced with dismay at my flying hair, for she had not approved of my having unbound it. Women of the village ever wore their hair bound, she had said with pleading in her eyes. Men did not care to see them unkempt for it detracted from their beauty, she had said. I said naught and merely continued to unplait my hair, and Tarla had bitten her lips and had not broached the matter again. As I walked, I briefly became aware of my life sign, that of the hadat, which hung between my breasts beneath the covering. Tarla had often gazed upon the carved wood of it, and had once suggested that I ask Ceralt to make me another, one which would lack the flat brown stain of the one I wore. The stain marred one’s sight of the wood grain, and she had felt that a new carving would give a better appearance. I had smiled at her words, recalling my first battle as a warrior, how proudly I had worn the life sign which I had carved from the tree marked like mine from birth. Then my life sign had been unstained, yet at battle’s end, with an enemy Semma lying still at my feet, I had removed the life sign from about my neck, held it by its leather tie, and had dipped it thrice into Semma blood. Once in thanks to Mida, twice to give thanks that I was of the Hosta, thrice in thanks for the glory of battle, asking that I be granted such glory many times before being called to Mida’s side. Then the life sign had been replaced by my war leader, proclaiming to all that I had become a blooded warrior of the Hosta. The Semma blood had felt warm and sticky against my breasts; the life sign had spread the blood upon me; my pride and pleasure had been so great that I had barely felt the stab of pain from the silver ring of a warrior as it had been forced through my ear. Never does a warrior forget the time of the staining of her life sign, and I had laughed well at Tarla’s suggestion. Ask Ceralt for another indeed!

The folk of the village seemed not to notice the chill of the air, and some few of the males were bare-chested, wearing no more than the leather breech and leggings, silvered belt, and fur leg wrappings. One male seemed to have recently arrived, for he stood before a dwelling unburdening a lanthay, three small children jumping about beside him. A female appeared in the doorway of the dwelling, her leather garment unbelted so as not to bind her slightly swelling belly, her face wearing a look of radiant joy. The male turned to her and she hurried to him from the doorway, his arms bringing her close to his chest and lips. Much did the male drink from the lips of his female, she standing contentedly in the circle of his arms, and then he laughed and took a leather pack from the lanthay, left the beast standing tied by the dwelling, sent the children about their business of play, and drew the female into the dwelling with him. Much hunger had been in the eyes of the male, and long would be the use of the female. As she already carried a child within her, I wondered that the male did not seek the use of another female. All know that males care only for their own pleasure and the getting of their offspring, therefore it seemed odd that the male would take a female who had already been quickened and would not, in such a state, afford him the pleasure of one not so quickened. Indeed the matter seemed odd, yet, as I have said, understanding was not mine in the land of males.

Large was the number of females I saw as I walked about, and many were the tasks which they had been set. Some cured hides for the leather of garments, some skinned small, furred children of the wild, some sat before their dwellings, binding leather together for garments. Some spoke to one another as they passed in and out of the dwellings, and I noted that those who went within emerged again in a very short time. Children ran about everywhere, children of all ages, male and female alike, though there seemed to be many females who had shortly before reached womanhood and few males who were no longer boys. Through the shouting and laughter of the children, I questioned Tarla on the matter and was informed that the young males had been taken by their elders to learn that which a village male must know. Though there were many smells of meat and vegetables aroast on the air, and smells of leather and beasts and all manner of things unguessed at, no trace of the pungent oil for swords did I find in their midst, no sign of weapons of any sort among the females. I looked again upon these slave-women, one of whom, bent over, took a bluish-white liquid from the teats of a small animal, allowing the liquid to fill a deep pot, and attempted to fathom the why of their remaining slave to males. Had they no desire to ride free as Midanna did, had they no yearnings for the glory of battle? For what reason had Mida spurned them, turning her back upon their plight? Had they sinned so greatly then, that they were forever lost? Would such a fate be given a warrior who failed in her compliance with Mida’s demands? Deeply did the chill of the wind touch me, setting my bones ashiver, and bleak indeed was the fey I looked upon. The grass beneath my feet yet held to its place, though soon it would be no more, and none save mindless slave-women might find joy in the midst of a lifeless land. Wounded, nearly dead, I had been brought to such a land by males, males who would take all from me without thought to any save themselves. My gaze rose to the thick, gray clouds above, seeking a sign from Mida that I had not been abandoned, yet no such sign was forthcoming. For long moments did I stand so, yearning toward Mida’s skies, and then I felt a gentle touch upon my arm.

“Jalav, you seem weary,” said Tarla, her voice soft yet concerned. “Let us return to your halyar.”

I shook my head, leaving the searching of the skies for another time, and again began walking past the dwellings. I had somehow thought that perhaps there might be a weapon among the village females which I might make mine, yet I had seen none where there had not also been males. Each of the males wore a dagger at his belt, some bore spears, some bows, yet none of these things had been left in the possession of a female, and I saw no swords. Perhaps the males feared that a female with weapon in hand would attempt escape or battle, or perhaps it was merely that slave-women feared the touching of weapons. Whichever the truth of the matter, I saw naught which Jalav might take and use as her own.

As I continued to look about, I grew aware of a lessening in the sounds about me. The females, in groups and alone, all seemed much interested in the look of Jalav. They stared with odd expressions upon their faces; those who sat or stood with others whispered animatedly, many were wide-eyed, some were amused. The older children, seeing the interest of their elders, also emulated their stares, attempting to pierce the mystery of she who walked among them. Only the looks of the males was I able to fathom, for they looked upon me as had the males who came to the slave enclosures of Bellinard, where I had once been pent. Their eyes showed great desire and hunger, yet none attempted to approach me and make his desire known. Most of the males I had seen were tall and strong, broad of shoulder and chest and lean of waist. Many would have been quickly taken and put to sthuvad use in the lands of Midanna, yet none approached and made his desire known. Briefly, my thoughts touched the memory of Pileth, a male of Bellinard, called Captain of the High Seat’s Guard, one who had not hesitated to make his desire for me known. Much had Pileth and I pleasured one another, seeing to our mutual needs, yet these males about me said naught of their desire. Strange were males in their various ways, truly strange, and a warrior did well to keep her thoughts from them.

Tarla, too, saw the looks about us and grew exceedingly anxious, yet she made no further suggestions that we return to my dwelling. My legs, though yet with the strength needed to carry me, nevertheless felt greatly wearied and had begun to throb a bit about the wounds. Leaves now flew about the ground above the dying grass, leaves of many colors which gave a false feeling of life to the land. The dwellings in their places, each of wood of a weathered brown, the village folk, each in leather of tan and furs of gray, all seemed part of the death of warmth, yet the scattering leaves reminded one that life remained elsewhere, among a people freer and happier than those about me. I continued to walk among the stares and whispers, Tarla unhappily by my side, and kept my thought with those in other lands.

A number of reckid passed in silent walking, and then Tarla again grasped my arm. “There is Lialt’s halyar,” said she, much relief in evidence as she pointed toward a dwelling which stood among the others and yet also apart. Beside it stood a second dwelling, also among the others yet also apart, and Tarla saw my eyes upon it.

“That is the halyar of Ceralt,” said she, something of a smile upon her lips. “It is forbidden that you now enter therein, else I would show you where you shall dwell, yet you may enter Lialt’s dwelling, where I may not. Go within and see if Lialt is about, for I would not face the return walk past the others alone if there is no necessity for it. Much would I have preferred the presence of snow upon the ground, for snow shall drive those tongue-waggers within their halyars.” She turned about to look angrily toward the females who yet stood about and whispered, then returned her gaze to me. “Hurry, Jalav,” said she, making motions toward the dwelling with her hands. “There is naught improper in your entering. You have my word!”

I looked upon her in curiosity, caring naught for matters of propriety nor the stares of others. “You may not enter Lialt’s dwelling” said I, my head to one side. “For what reason is this so?”

Impatience flashed in the large, dark eyes before me, and Tarla took a breath before replying. “Lialt has said that he shall draw me from the circle,” said she, the patience in her tone of the sort one uses with those who know little. “I am now forbidden entrance to his halyar till he has fetched new lacings to me in my father’s halyar, and has led me within himself. So do matters stand between you and Ceralt, yet there is naught between you and Lialt, therefore may you enter his halyar—with haste!”

Again words spoken to me held no meaning, and I felt myself fool for having asked. It is truly no wonder that city folk know so little, for how may one learn Mida’s ways when all one’s time is spent upon foolishness of the sort Tarla was ever concerned with? I shook my head, brushing a strand of hair from my face, well aware of Tarla’s anxiety. Her eyes were now pleading as she looked up at me, therefore I shrugged in resignation and turned to Lialt’s dwelling. Much pleased was I that it was not Ceralt’s dwelling which I must enter, for I had no desire to go where the male dwelt. Tarla was much mistaken in believing that I, too, would dwell there, yet I had not corrected her in her ignorance. When the time came, my actions would instruct her more fully than any words.

A strip of leather hung through a small hole in Lialt’s door, and a pull upon the leather caused the wooden bar within to rise and allow the door its opening. Why these villagers used naught of doors which swung both in and out I knew not, yet the matter was so. To enter a dwelling within the village, one must pull upon leather. The interior was much the same as my dwelling, yet there was more within to show the presence of an owner. Here and there, upon the walls, were woven mats, yellows and reds and blues and greens, all mixed about and blended as though the falling leaves had been captured and formed. To the left of the door were leather cases, piled one upon the other, a set of fur leg wrappings astand beside the cases, as though recently left. Thinking that Lialt perhaps lay sleeping within I entered further, allowing the door to fall closed behind me, yet the closing of the door left no place where Lialt might be. To the right of the door, in the near corner, stood the dwelling’s unused fireplace, a fire blazing only in the hearth to the far left. Below a window in the right wall stood a low platform, a full lenga pelt upon the floor before it, and strung between the right wall and the far wall, suspended from heavy metal hooks of the sort which were also to be found in my dwelling, was a thick, tightly bound length of leather, a length which exceeded the height of a tall male. To what purpose this length of leather might be put I knew not, nor did I care. That which village folk do holds little interest for a warrior.

About to retrace my steps to Tarla, I halted as movement of some sort past the window caught my eye. No more than a flash of tan had there been, yet the thought came that perhaps Lialt was to be found without the dwelling to its rear. In truth, I had little wish to find the male, yet Tarla had seemed most anxious, and Hosta shall ever repay assistance to those to whom it is due. Tarla had served me well in the weakness of my wounds, and now might I, in some measure, return her aid. I strode to the window, feeling the warmth of the dwelling caused by the fire, and looked through to the outside. Beyond the woven window cover lay naught save a clearing, beyond that the beginning of the forest. Trees now waved gently in the wind which had sprung up, yet they waved to emptiness for naught living appeared to my sight. The window cover, made fast to the frame with rebal sap and woven from the clear thread of the commonly found tree maglessa, took very little from the true view of that which lay beyond the window. Midanna themselves have no need of the light thread produced by the maglessa, yet often is it found in use by village males and their slave-women. Those of the village of Islat, a place in the lands of Midanna, also make use of the thread for their windows, yet the woven cloth is placed upon a frame which may be swung wide from the window itself. In such a manner do Islat folk make use of the cloth to protect their dwellings from the rains of Mida, and at other times swing the frames wide to allow entrance to the sweet, warm air of our land. Water and air find no easy passage through the thread, a thing to be thankful for in the village of those called Belsayah, a place where there is little in all to be thankful for.

There being no further reason to stand before the window I began to step away, yet my gaze was immediately taken by that which lay upon the small, low platform beneath the window. I had not earlier seen the contents of the platform for my gaze had been for that which lay beyond the window, yet now I saw with great pleasure that Lialt had left a pipe and sack to hand, a fire-maker within easy reach of them. Long had it been since last I had filled a pipe, and surely had I thought that those of the cities knew naught of the pleasure a well-filled pipe might give. The pipe, carved from the black wood of the binda tree, lay smooth and inviting upon the platform, its very presence proclaiming its availability for use. Should one not wish one’s pipe used, one puts it beyond the sight of others.

Eagerly I took the pipe up, admiring the rubbed smoothness of its bowl, then opened the leather sack from which it might be filled. The grains within appeared odd, small, coarse and brown as they should have been, yet also with some bits of yellow well mixed within it. I considered the mixture briefly, then shrugged and filled the pipe. That Lialt used the mixture proved its acceptability, for what may a male do that a warrior may not?

The lenga pelt at my feet seemed equally as inviting as the pipe, therefore I seated myself before putting the flamemaker to its use. The discomfort of the garment I wore tempted me to call Mida’s vengeance down upon it, yet I refrained as I puffed the pipe to life. The taste of it was not unpleasant, a sweetness seemingly added by the yellow substance, and I leaned back in comfort, shaking my hair from my arms as I drew further upon the stem, the aches and strains of the fey draining slowly from my body and mind.

Not long had I lain there, full upon the lenga pelt, drawing upon the pipe, when a great lethargy came over me. My arms and legs, no more than normally weary earlier, now felt possessed of great weight and little strength, much as though I were once again chained beneath the ground in Bellinard, and my vision swam about as though seeking a new viewpoint. Hand and pipe dropped as one to the wood beyond the pelt, my head fell to the pelt in a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke, and my hearing, keen as only that of a hunter and warrior might be, no longer touched the sounds of the world about me. Great clouds of white billowed, at once within as well as about me, and I no longer felt the warmth of the dwelling nor the discomfort of the garment. More thickly did the clouds swirl, thick as bits of leaves from the trees, yet lighter, as light as down from the feathered children of the wild. Well I knew that I lay upon the lenga fur in Lialt’s dwelling, more helpless than when I lay beneath the spears of the Silla, yet I felt that I stood elsewhere, a distant land that was not a true land, a place where none save shadows dwelt. A feeling of menace caused me to stare about, to see what stood beyond the concealing clouds. No longer was my body constrained by the presence of garment and fur leg-wrappings, a thing most pleasurable—yet more than disturbing in its unexpectedness. I felt as though there were eyes upon me from out of the white, eyes sober with intensity, hard with deep-seeking interest, a feeling which caused me to move even farther from where I had first found myself. An unmeasured time I moved so, gaining very little distance as movement through the white was difficult, and then with unsettling suddenness the whiteness thinned to where I might see farther than my hand before my face, yet that which I saw was no comfort. The white was deeply piled upon the ground beneath my feet, stretching far into the distance with naught to obstruct it, yet was it plain to see that many tracks ran through the mounds, tracks which led in many hands of directions. I stood upon the soft whiteness, staring about at the tracks, and then my eyes went farther, to where the tracks led. Most tracks disappeared from sight into the distance, yet some seemed to lead, a long way off, to tiny movement of tiny forms. Much curiosity filled me as to what the movement might be, and despite the remaining sense of presence, I wished to go closer to the movement. There was a ripple in the unseen presence about me, disapproval strong and clear, yet the call of the movement ahead was strong, as though I were bound to it in some manner. I took a step forward, feeling the disapproval increase though I cared naught for it, and the call of the movement increased as well. I would go to the place which lured me so, for there, I felt sure, lay knowledge which I would do well to have.

No more than three steps did I take when Lialt abruptly appeared from nothingness, a hand of paces away, and his eyes found me where I stood.

“Jalav, return with me at once!” said he, angrily though I had not heard his voice. His lips had moved, forming the words he had wished to speak to me, yet no sound had traveled between us. The meaning of his speaking alone had come, deep within my head, and I saw that he, too, was unclothed. His very presence was annoyance, for I had no wish to share that place, nor was I yet prepared to return. Without speaking I turned from him and began to move toward my goal, yet the movement was still as slow as it had been—for me. Lialt, somehow, had not the difficulty that I found, and within three paces he had come far enough from where he had stood to place an arm before me.

“We shall now return!” said he without sound, his light eyes nearly wild with anger. “Come of your own volition, or be forced to my will!”

“I go elsewhere,” said I, also without sound as I returned his gaze. “Your will means naught.”

Surely did my meaning reach him, for his eyes began to blaze as I turned my face once more toward the movement which I wished to approach. His arm, still held before me, seemed a slim barrier to my purpose, for an arm is easily avoided, yet this conclusion proved to be an error. With no further words and more quickly than I would have thought possible, the arm encircled me, and immediately upon contact all about me vanished.

In the blackness which I next found myself, breathing proved nearly as difficult as motion. The weight of all things seemed to be upon me, and only slowly did I become aware of that which surrounded me. The sweetness in the air was very faint, a last lingering memory of that which had been, and my sight returned with the awareness of Lialt’s arm about me, holding my shoulders from the lenga pelt and forcing a pot of liquid to my lips. No more than three swallows of the liquid was I allowed before the pot was taken from my lips, yet those three swallows proved sufficient to restore me somewhat. Again was I able to lift my arms and legs and no longer did my back require Lialt’s support. I sat upon the pelt, Lialt’s dwelling about me, and gazed most bitterly at the male who crouched beside me.

“We shall one fey have a reckoning between us,” said I to the male as he gazed narrow-eyed upon me. “I had no wish to return to this place as yet, and care little for having been forced here. What land was that, and how may I return to it?”

Lialt crouched beside me without movement, his gaze as narrow-eyed as it had been, his forearms resting upon his thighs, no response to my questions upon his lips. Again were we each clad as we had been, somehow accomplished without my notice, and the warmth of the dwelling had caused moisture to form about my feet beneath their fur wrappings. Much did I wish to remove the wrappings, yet the slow head-shaking at that moment produced by Lialt stayed my hand.

“You know not even where you were,” said he, an odd tone to his voice, “yet you wish to return there. Were you born without sense, or have your recent wounds merely robbed you of what little you were given?”

So quietly were these words spoken that a moment passed before I felt insulted. For a male to speak so to a warrior was great foolishness, yet I had no weapon to hand with which I might wipe out the insult. There was much between Lialt and myself which needed seeing to, and each time I had dealings with the male, the differences grew greater. I shifted upon the lenga pelt, knowing that the fey upon which these differences were settled would be bloody indeed.

“Again your chin rises in stubbornness,” said he, the calm tone rising to anger. “Though you be a child of the Snows, do you not know how close you came to being lost? By whose permission did you make free with my pipe? How dared you refuse to obey my will upon the Snows? In the name of the Serene Oneness, should Ceralt fail to punish you this time, I shall do so myself!”

His anger had risen to great heights, and again his light eyes blazed as they had done in the strange white land. Forever was this Lialt becoming angered, and I had long since tired of it. No Tarla was I, to be spoken to so.

“Lialt forgets that Mida watches over her warrior,” said I quite coldly. “No danger was there in my being lost, save by the will of Mida. Should Mida wish one lost, that one will be lost no matter what her place might be. Your pipe lay in the open, a clear invitation to any who chanced by, and the war leader Jalav was pleased to accept the invitation, thereby honoring you. The will of a male means naught to a warrior, and less than that to a war leader of the Hosta. Lialt has now been answered, and Jalav, too, would be answered. What land have I stood in, and how may I return to it?”

“By the fetid stench of Sigurr the dark!” shouted Lialt, rising to his full height so that he might glare down upon me. “I grow exceedingly weary of being told of Mida, warriors, and war leaders! Know you, wench, that one must walk the Snows many times with one who has often done so, before one may walk there alone! I, a Pathfinder, know the manner in which one may return from there, yet you, no more than a child of the Snows who has never been trained in the ways of a Pathfinder, would become lost till your body died from lack of tenancy! The thread is thin between flesh and spirit when the spirit walks the Snows, and had I not been there, even your Mida would not have been able to return you! Had I known that your spirit would find release through the Clouds of Seeing, never would you have been allowed entrance to my halyar! From this moment on, you are forbidden entrance here, and should I again find you within, you shall be chained to the wall in your own halyar! Have I made matters sufficiently clear for you?”

“Indeed.” I nodded, rising also to my feet so that I might gaze more directly into his eyes. “Lialt has shown that he fears the presence of Jalav in the white land, and for this he cannot be faulted. There are few lands which would not fall sooner to Midanna than to males.”

I folded my arms beneath my life sign as I spoke these words, and regarded the purpling of Lialt’s visage with great interest. Seldom had I seen such anger directed at me before I had begun moving among the lands of males, and the occurrence yet held fascination. From the fey I had become war leader of the Hosta, none had dared attempt the direction of my behavior, nor had any spoken to me in the manner of males save with sword in hand. Of those who had faced me, none survived to give insult a second time, for quarter in battle is not the way of Midanna. It was a thing Midanna had yet to teach these males, for Lialt knew not what his words and actions might bring when directed toward a warrior. His purpling visage well displayed before me, he yet felt the need to draw himself up to an even greater height, and placed a large, grim hand upon my arm.

“I cannot speak with you,” he choked, great anger tightening the grip of his fingers. “Each time I speak with you, the urge for violence claims me? I shall return you to your halyar and leave you for Ceralt to see to!”

Rudely was I then taken, by the arm, from the dwelling, a large-eyed and fearful Tarla awaiting without as we emerged. Lialt spared her no more than a glance as he strode past, hurrying me from the vicinity of his dwelling, and much did my anger match the male’s. In no manner was I able to release his grip from my arm, nor was I able to slow his pace. Much did I wish to put the question to Mida as to the why of males having been given such strength, the while warriors were made to do with lesser. Tarla, seeing my anger and Lialt’s and growing even more frightened, nevertheless hurried to match our pace so that she might walk to the far side of Lialt.

“Lialt, what has happened?” she ventured in a low voice, glancing about herself at the great interest shown by those males and females of the village who had earlier looked upon us. They now stood and stared with disturbance clear upon their features, the males with frowns, the females close to fear. A moment Lialt remained silent, and then, grudgingly, he spoke.

“She enveloped herself within the Clouds of Seeing and walked the Snows alone,” said he, his eyes touching neither the girl beside him nor the folk all about. “I should have known from her ability to close me from her mind that the Paths would be open to her, yet the thought had not touched me. Had she been lost, the fault would have been mine.”

Tarla had gasped and paled upon hearing his words, yet at the end of them, her hand reached out shyly to touch the arm of the male.

“You could not have truly known,” said she, her voice soft and comforting, her dark eyes upon the tightened jaw muscles so clearly to be seen upon his cheek. “The High Rider shall see that you could not have known.”

Lialt’s headlong pace slowed somewhat, yet the grim look he had adopted did not tighten.

“I shall place the matter before Ceralt when he returns,” said he, in no manner comforted. “Her safety was given into my hands, and it is the place of the Pathfinder to know another who might walk the Snows. My brother shall not be as lenient as you, Tarla mine.”

No answer did the female make save a lowering of her head, and we continued through the village in silence. The chill of the fey had grown deeper with the rising of the wind, and as my hair blew about my arms, I attempted to understand where Mida’s light had gone. When I had first left my dwelling, the light had not yet reached its highest point, yet as I walked I saw that the light now lessened toward the darkness. No less than three hind had been lost in my visit to the white land, yet the passage of time had not been evident there. Strange was this thing, as strange as Lialt’s speaking of it, for the male had said, that I had “walked the Snows.” Perhaps the tracks I had seen were the paths he had previously spoken of, and he the chief tracker of the white lands. From the little he had said, I felt sure that not all were able to reach the land I had visited, and this I could find no reason for. I had reached the white land without effort, and where one may go, might not others thereafter follow? Confusion was high within me, and annoyance as well, for Lialt might have cleared the clouds from my understanding had he wished to.

We came quickly within easy sight of the lanthay enclosure, and a glance toward the males who yet stood within caused Tarla to draw her breath in sharply.

“Nearly had I forgotten,” said she to Lialt, her hand agrasp his arm. “Earlier, in the corral—Jalav was seen by Balinod. When he learned her identity, he smiled upon her openly, before the other riders!”

An amusing indignation and anger were in the girl’s tone, yet Lialt’s features darkened rather than lightened.

“Ceralt shall see to Balinod’s insolent manner,” said he, a grimness in the glance he sent me. “In this matter, he shall not find his High Rider willing to overlook his actions due to the blood we three share.”

“First Famira, now her brother Balinod,” said Tarla with a shake of her head. “A pity one cannot choose one’s blood relatives.”

“Indeed a pity,” nodded Lialt, his dourness only then lifting somewhat. He looked down upon Tarla, who walked by his side, and his arm moved to encircle her, a true fondness appearing on his features. Much gentle feeling did Lialt have for the small female, yet this gentleness had not loosened the grasp of his fingers upon my arm.

In no more than a hand of reckid farther, we again stood within the dwelling which was mine. At last was my arm released, yet the look given me by Lialt contained as much inflexibility as had his grip.

“You shall remain here till Ceralt’s return,” said he, his brows drawn down in deep disapproval. “There is little time left till you may be circled, and I shall suggest that you be kept within till that time comes.”

He began to turn away from me, prepared to leave, yet I could not allow matters to be left so. Though I burned with anger at his words, I pushed the anger from me and touched his arm to halt him.

“Lialt, I must know,” said I, speaking to him as though he were the equal of a warrior. “What is the meaning of the movement I saw, and why did it draw me so?”

Lialt turned again to face me, expressionlessness covering him, yet in a moment he nodded.

“Very well,” said he, his light eyes looking deep within me. “I shall have to school you at some time for your own protection, and perhaps this is the best way to begin. You saw, I wager, many paths upon the Snows, yet there was movement at no more than one or two points.”

The words were less question than statement, and at my nod, Lialt nodded as well.

“I know this only from memory of my own first walk,” said he, folding his arms upon his broad, leather-clad chest. “All paths have movement upon them in many places, yet much time must pass in study before one is able to see this. The movement is ever an event of importance, usually containing much violence, yet not always. The birth of a man of importance is shown as clearly as the death of a city. When one first begins his walks, only those events of great importance to the walker are perceived, should there be any. Many Pathfinders do not see themselves upon the Snows, for they are searcher only, never participating in the events which are shown them, yet you are yourself a child of the Snows, as Ceralt and I also seem to be. The movement you saw drew you because of your own presence in the event of importance, yet had you gone closer, you might not have known yourself in the seeing of it. The shadow you cast upon the Snows is that of the hadat, and Ceralt’s shadow is that of the lanthay. Of these two things I am sure, yet I am not yet sure of my own shadow. I think perhaps I am the revro, flying above all upon wings of vision, yet there is also a scaled sednet and a red flame bound about your doings. It is also possible that I am one of these. ”

Lialt paused, as though to give me opportunity to speak, yet there was naught I might speak of. That which I had been told contained much to be thought upon, and my silence, in some manner, gave the male satisfaction. Rather than pressing me for comment, he turned quietly and drew Tarla from the dwelling with him, leaving me to my thoughts. The warmth of the fire gave discomfort in the dwelling, therefore I removed the fur leg wrappings, then went to seat myself upon the lenga pelts before submerging myself in the words Lialt had spoken.

Surely no more than a hin passed before Tarla’s return, yet I paid her no mind as she removed her leg wrappings then took herself to the fire. Much had I thought upon the white land, and much did I wish to visit it again, this time seeing all there might be to be seen. I had come to understand that the white land was a part of Mida’s realm, a part that few were allowed a vision of. This, perhaps, was that which Mida wished me to see in the land of males, a thing which had been kept from Midanna yet was now to be made theirs. I would return with this knowledge to my home lands, and then would my sister warriors ride forth behind me, to first free the Hosta, and then wrench from these males the means by which the white land might be reached. Lialt I would carefully keep from death so that he might be made to speak of all he had learned upon his journeys, and then would I again go forth to study the movement I had seen. The call of the movement continued to burn within me, and something of urgency was now apparent in the call.

“Jalav, here is your vellin,” said Tarla from beside me, startling me with the unexpectedness of words and movement. She knelt beside the lenga pelt I sat upon, a cut of vellin upon a square of wood, held invitingly in her hands. Her eyes were unaccountably sad as I took the provender from her, and abruptly she could no longer keep her sadness within.

“Jalav, I feel your coming punishment as you do!” she blurted, putting a gentle hand to my cheek. “Ceralt shall be exceedingly cross with you, yet perhaps the weight of his arm might be lessened should you weep at first sight of the leather. I have been told by others that the ploy is sometimes effective, and I shall ask my elder sister what else you might do!”

The agitation in the female was great indeed, yet I, with my thoughts yet floating about the white land, knew not what she meant.

“Of what do you speak?” said I, examining the condition of the vellin. Tarla’s upset had happily spared the cut as much exposure to the fire as was usual with her, and the blood ran upon the wooden board in a most satisfying manner.

A moment of silence followed my query, and then Tarla’s hand withdrew from my cheek as she sighed heavily.

“Ah, Jalav,” said she, her eyes sad. “You pretend to unconcern, yet how may a woman be unconcerned with the anger of a man? Does she not see the anger upon his face, does she not feel the anger in the weight of his leather upon her? Lialt has said that Ceralt now deems you well enough to punish properly, and you shall not this time escape your due. I know you have been fearing Ceralt’s return, for I saw the deep preoccupation upon you as I entered earlier, yet perhaps he may be swayed from his purpose.” Here she hesitated, a bright flush coloring her cheeks as her voice lowered in embarrassment. “As you have already shared Ceralt’s furs, it would not be unseemly for you to beg his use of you before the punishment. I have heard it said that a man is gentle in his satisfaction, and generous after release. Perhaps he may then punish you only a little—if at all. ”

Her words had fallen upon one another in her haste to release them, and her cheeks had grown so bright that one might think her fevered. Young Tarla, it seemed, had never taken a male as would have a warrior of her kalod, and the thought of male and female together caused her embarrassment. Little understanding had I of why this was so, yet my curiosity upon the point was pushed aside by anger. It was expected by the village slave-women that I would fear Ceralt and his punishments, and it was also expected that I attempt to placate him in some manner to ease the pain he would bring. I raised the vellin to my lips and tore a bite from it with my teeth, feeling the warm blood drip from the corner of my mouth. Much pain had I felt in my kalod as a warrior, some brought to me by Ceralt in various ways, yet never had I cringed before the promise of pain, never had I crushed my dignity underfoot to keep the pain from me. I bit again at the vellin, anger rising to fury in its towering strength, and the taste of the vellin grew ashes in my mouth. I threw the meat back to its board with strength, causing a gasp of alarm in Tarla, and looked upon the now-frightened female as the war leader I was.

“Never shall I fear a male,” said I to her, though I wished to shout the words. “Ceralt may lash me if he wishes, yet never shall I beg his use! Never!”

Tarla cringed back in fear, so strongly had my anger come to her, yet my anger was not yet done. Unbidden came the memory of a time with Ceralt, a time when my desire for the male had been so great that I had begged his use as he had demanded. Shame filled me that I might be so weak before the male, as weak as a slave-woman in all her helplessness. I cast the wooden square and the vellin to the floor, rose quickly to my feet, then strode to the window, leaving a frightened Tarla locked in place behind me. Without the dwelling the fey had darkened, strong wind blowing the trees about in anguish. I, too, felt anguish over the place of my capture, and knew that I must soon put the village well behind me.

Silence filled the dwelling for many reckid, then, at last, Tarla again found her voice. “Jalav,” she whispered with a tremor. “I did not mean to . . .”

“Leave me!” I snapped, my eyes unmoving from the grayness beyond the window. No longer had I patience for the folly of the girl. With no more than a pause for the replacing of leg furs, the female left as she had been bidden to do. In scant moments, I saw her hurrying toward the other end of the village, her head low, her hand to her mouth. Undoubtedly there were tears in her eyes as well, yet such a thing meant naught to a warrior. It was well past the time for Jalav to be on her way, and as the chill winds seemed to have driven the village folk within their dwellings, I turned from the window, replaced my own leg furs, then went to the door.

No eyes were upon me as I moved toward the trees beyond the edge of the village. Those within the lanthay enclosure had been well wrapped in the business they were about, and females no longer stood about regarding their doings. The wind blew my hair to a frenzy of flying, yet it came from before me so my vision was unobscured. The hard ground was nearly like rock, so faintly did my trail show in it, yet I, myself, would have followed the track with ease. No need was there to announce my direction of travel with others undoubtedly coming behind me, yet there was no well-leafed branch to hand to cover the track. I paused once I was well among the trees so that I might look about, yet naught met my eye that might be of use. The chill of the air and the greater chill of the wind made me reluctant to accept the sole course of action left to me, yet I had no choice. Amid the swaying branches of leafless trees, I loosened the leather ties of the covering I wore and removed it, then turned with my back to the cutting wind so that I might brush lightly at the ground over which I had walked. Once this was done, I turned my line of march to the south, walking and brushing with as much care and speed as possible.

Some few hind was I able to continue so, my hair held in one hand, my covering in the other, before I was forced to replace the leather garment. My body had first been chilled by the exposure, then warmed somewhat by walking and brushing, yet the passing hind had left naught save a numbness upon me and in my bones, so that I shivered violently even as I attempted to steady my hand for the brushing. I halted and looked about as I tested the wind, knowing full well that I had not been able to secure a weapon for the long journey back to the south. This lack might well mean my life should I come upon the lenga or falth before I had been able to make a spear, yet the matter was far beyond my ability to alter. First I must put many forest lengths between me and the males behind, then I might think upon arming myself against the children of the wild. My stiffened fingers fumbled with the leather garment before I was able to draw it on, my difficulty with it even greater than usual. Much had I grown to hate the confinement of the garment, yet it was clear that one might not survive without it in these lands. I freed my hair of it and drew the bindings tight, securing also the hopper belt about my middle. I had held the belt with the covering, not wishing to cast it aside where it might be found, and now retained it for another reason. Soon would I find the need to hunt, and the metal of the belt might well be used in the fashioning of a spear or in the setting of traps. I felt no regret at having left the vellin Tarla had prepared, though its loss would be felt most keenly upon my journey. The empty woods about proclaimed the scarcity of game, and my former gauntness was most likely to come again and this time stay awhile. I paused only long enough to watch the bright-colored leaves fly about over the ground I had brushed, then I turned once more in the direction of my homeland.

Darkness was not far from descending when I paused again to consider my position. The trees waved less now that the wind had quieted, but the cold had advanced to the point where it had become a gnawing thing, turning my hands and face red with its caress. I shivered in the near darkness, standing close beside a tree as though warmth might be drawn from the cold, dead bark, feeling the throb of my wounds from the constant clenching of my muscles as they attempted to fend off the cold. I had not come as far as I had wished, and darkness would not bring a halt to the march. I could ill afford to sleep through the darkness, buried in some hollow tree trunk, for my pursuers could well discover me through accident so close to the village. It would be necessary to continue the travel, though I knew not whether I might find the strength to continue. For some time my breathing had been coming in gasps, as though through lack of air, and I was forced to lean upon the tree I stood near for support. No longer was I concerned with hunting for I felt no hunger, and the rough, ridged bark of the tree against my cheek caused the burning on my skin to increase before it subsided. My hair stirred slightly where it lay against my thigh, and I, myself, was the only cause of movement I had seen since I had left the village. The bare trees were dark shadows against the dimming gray of the skies, and much did I yearn to build a fire in that cold, empty land.

At last I forced myself from the tree and walked on, knowing an easy trot would be best for the distance I must cover, knowing also that even the easiest of trots was beyond me. When the darkness grew too cold and tiring to bear, I would choose a long branch and trim it, then use a stone or tree to sharpen it, thereby giving my mind and hands something to do that would keep sleep from them. Sleep was now my enemy, and enemies must be conquered if one is to survive. I blew upon my hands and rubbed them, causing them to tingle, then held them to my face till the burning in my cheeks had eased. My eyes had found my fur leg wrappings, and I stumbled through the forest watching each step as I took it.

There had been no sound save the crackling of my feet upon the dry, dying leaves and the occasional flap of wings of a feathered child of the wild, yet suddenly there was a great crackling all about among the trees, and lanthay appeared as though from nowhere, their riders guiding them to circle around me. I whirled about, seeking a means through their ranks yet finding none, my heart beating wildly, and then my gaze fell upon him who led the riders. Ceralt sat his lanthay almost negligently, his eyes looking down upon me where I stood, my feet spread wide, my hand groping for a sword which was not to be found. No word was spoken by any of the males, and I felt their eyes upon me as well. I knew not how they had found me so quickly, yet it mattered not. Had I been beneath the protection of Mida, they would not have found me at all. Once again I had erred in thinking Mida at last pleased with her warrior, and once again would Mida show her anger at my foolishness. I kept my eyes from moving longingly to the south and merely folded my arms beneath my life sign, the bitterness of my failure held well within my soul. Ceralt had once more captured me, and he would be the instrument of Mida’s displeasure.

Ceralt did not pause long enough in his study of me for the cold to become unbearable. He stirred upon his lanthay, his face difficult to see in the gathering darkness, and then he urged his mount forward till he stood beside me to the right. Again he looked down upon me where I stood, my hair blowing slightly in the nearly still wind, and he shook his head, as though in wonder.

“Truly had I begun to doubt,” said he, though more to himself than aloud. “The Snows, through Lialt, directed me to be here this fey, awaiting we knew not what. Now do I see the importance of the matter, and give thanks to the Serene Oneness that I obeyed without reluctance.” Then he straightened upon his lanthay, and his voice no longer held the odd, musing quality it had had. It sharpened, and a frown took seat upon his features. “What do you do so far from the village, wench?” he demanded in a growl. “By whose permission do you walk these woods alone?”

His anger had begun to grow, yet I made no answer to his questions for his previous words had startled me. The males had lain in wait in the woods at the direction of—something—from the white land, serving a presence they knew naught of. Well did I remember the feel of the presence in the white land, and well did I know that the presence was not Mida. It had not, then, been by Mida’s will that I was once more captured, and therefore was I free to attempt resistance. Ceralt’s lanthay stood beside me, dancing about in the manner of a high-strung beast, filled with much restlessness and the urge to do. No sooner had I come to the knowledge that it was not Mida’s hand which was before my path, than I raised my voice in the Hosta war cry, jumping toward the lanthay and clapping my hands sharply. The beast exploded from me in great confusion, a scream of its own filling the air as it nearly unseated Ceralt, yet I waited no longer to see more. With my blood racing about inside me, I circled Ceralt’s lanthay and made for the gap in the ring his coming forward had produced, and was through and running before the other males knew aught was about. The fur leg-wrappings dragged at my feet, slowing my pace, my breath came in great gasps which threatened to open my chest, leafless branches slapped and flew at me trying to take my sight, yet I ran on through the gloom of coming darkness, determined to win my freedom. A vast ache had begun in my body, attempting to take the strength from my limbs, causing sweat to form upon my forehead, beneath my breasts, in my armpits. Ahead of me was thicker woods, no trail however small, no more than bare trees standing one upon the other. Could I but reach the tangle of their presence, no lanthay might take its great bulk through behind me. I pounded for it, taking no note of the branches which tore at the leather of my covering and plucked at my flying hair, stumbling in my haste, yet where I might once have outrun a lanthay, I could no longer do so. A great toll had been taken by the Silla spears, and Ceralt, upon his lanthay, thundered up beside me, his left arm reaching down to circle my waist. Though I struggled and struck out at him, I was nevertheless drawn to the lanthay’s back before him, thrown belly down across the leather band which girded the beast, and held in such a position by Ceralt’s right fist in my hair. Cold, hard earth was thrown in my face by the lanthay’s slowing, and then we turned about and rejoined the others of the males.

The return ride to the village was a great humiliation. The males had laughed to see me belly down before Ceralt, my hair falling against his lanthay’s leg, a fistful of it still in Ceralt’s possession. The mount’s fur caressed my cheek where it lay, yet sight of Ceralt’s leg, so near to my face, diminished whatever pleasure might have come from the touch. I fought the grip which kept me prisoner before a male; however success was not meant to be mine. Ceralt’s fist closed tighter still, nearly pulling the hair from my head, and my struggle did no more than take whatever strength remained to me. Still was I held as I had been, the cold blowing down the back of my covering, the sweat turning chill upon my body, the smell of lanthay and male strong in my nostrils. The ground moved past in a blur below me, easily covered by the lanthay’s rapid, relaxed pace, and I buried my own fists in the lanthay’s fur, for the first time fearful upon a beast. No more than Ceralt’s hand kept me from sliding from the beast to the ground, and never before had I been done so, placed before a male as his possession and prize. The head of the lanthay turned to sniff my arm in curiosity, and miserably I buried my face in its side, hearing the laughter and banter of the males all about, yet unable to face it.

All too soon was the village again before us, the lighted squares of its dwellings’ windows floating in the darkness. Ceralt and the others rode to my dwelling and halted, the form of Lialt appearing out of the darkness as the lanthay came to a stop. Ceralt released my hair and slid from the lanthay with ease, then reached up and, taking me by the waist, placed me upon the ground beside him. No sooner had my feet been firmly placed upon the ground, than Ceralt’s fist was again in my hair. In such a manner was I taken before Lialt, who frowned down upon me in great anger.

I know not how you found her, brother,” said he to Ceralt, “yet surely must the Serene Oneness have intervened. Upon finding her gone, I searched for her trail, yet it disappeared from before my eyes as though she had grown wings and flown.”

“All would have had little success in following her,” said Ceralt, giving my head a sharp shake by the hair. His anger was cold and his voice displeased, and nearly did I cry out from the shake. “The wench knows the forests and the means to hide her track better than most hunters,” said he to an even more deeply frowning Lialt. “She would have been lost to me if not for your timely reading of the Snows.”

“Ah!” breathed Lialt, pleasure replacing the frown upon his features. “Her flight was then meant to be, and her recapture as well. Perhaps the episode was meant as a lesson for her, to show her the folly of disobedience.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Ceralt, turning my head so that I must look up at him. “Has a lesson in obedience been taught you, wench?”

“I have been taught the folly of failing to remain alert,” said I, the pain of his grip turning my voice husky. “Had I had my wits about me, the presence of males in the forest would have been easily detected.”

Lialt growled in anger, yet Ceralt showed a grin of amusement. “Still she remains untamed,” said he, his eyes never leaving my face. “She has much to learn, and the time is long past for the teaching of it. Let us, in some small measure, begin.”

Lialt stepped aside as Ceralt guided me to the door of my dwelling and within, and then followed to close the door behind the three of us. The warmth of the dwelling was so welcome that I began trembling, and Ceralt released my hair to walk from me to the fire.

“Soon deep winter shall be upon us, brother,” said he as he stretched his palms toward the flames. “How much longer before we may begin the journey?”

“Matters move more swiftly toward the moment,” replied Lialt, walking to join Ceralt at the fire. “The sednet is not yet among us, though the flame approaches with good speed. Once most have been brought together, the journey may begin.”

“Good,” nodded Ceralt, looking upon his brother. “Read the Snows as often as is safe for you, and name the time when it has become clear.”

The two males warmed themselves by the fire, a thing I, myself, would have wished to do had they not been present. Much had the cold gone deeply in my bones, yet sooner would I remain as I was than join them where they stood. I wrapped my arms about me to still the shivering and crouched down where I had been left, ranting silently over the presence of the other males without the dwelling. My hand stole to my hair where Ceralt had gripped it, yet naught was amiss save a sore scalp. The male had previously taken me by the hair so, yet never had his grip been so tight and demanding. Changes had occurred in the male Ceralt, yet none which would find approval in the eyes of a warrior.

“It is my place to read the Snows,” agreed Lialt near the fire, “yet the place is one I prefer keeping alone. I have no need of unskilled assistance to hamper my searches.”

“Of what do you speak?” frowned Ceralt, searching Lialt’s face for a hint of meaning. “There are none within the village who are potential Pathfinders.”

“We are now blessed with one,” returned Lialt with dryness, moving his gaze to me. “She helped herself to my pipe and sack, and went happily advancing through the Snows of tomorrow with girlish glee and enthusiasm. When I attempted to retrieve her, she refused my will, and I was forced to blend our spirits in order to return.” Here Lialt paused, and though he took no notice of my bristling anger, he looked upon a furious Ceralt shamefacedly. “It is also my place to know one who has the ability to walk the Snows,” said he in a quiet manner. “In this I have failed you, Ceralt, and nearly was the girl lost.”

“My disappointment in your failure is deep, Lialt,” said the larger male, causing Lialt’s face to darken and his head to lower. “There are few a High Rider may depend upon, and surely his Pathfinder should be one and his brother a second. When the two are one, disappointment is sharper, stronger, more painful. That the wench is willful and ever angering you should not have kept you from knowing her abilities.”

Ceralt’s voice had been uncompromisingly grim, and Lialt had made no answer, nor had he again met Ceralt’s eyes. The larger male turned to gaze into the fire, yet abruptly he looked again upon Lialt with a frown.

“The point had nearly passed me by,” said Ceralt to a brother who gazed upon the wood of the floor. “Early this fey, you walked the Snows to bring me the message I was meant to have, yet you were forced to walk them again to retrieve the wench. How close did you come to being unable to return yourself?”

Lialt, in discomfort, raised his eyes and moved a hand in negation. “There was very little resistance,” said he, his tone dismissing the thought. “Although Pathfinders have been known to be forever lost if they walk the Snows more often than once each fey, the need to bring the girl to safety overrode the will of my spirit to remain. The Clouds of Seeing did not blind me to the passage of time, for I knew not how long she had been upon the Snows.”

“Purely a matter of good fortune all the way about,” growled Ceralt, and his gaze came to me where I crouched with my arms about me. The flames danced in the silver of his belt, yet the coldness of the dark had entered his eyes. “Remove your boots,” said Ceralt to me. “Your willfulness has nearly caused disaster to all, and this time punishment shall not be kept from you.”

Beneath his stare, I could do naught save remain in my crouch. So large was the male, so uncaring in his anger, and no weapon was there for Jalav to put hand to. A scant moment did he wait, and then he strode to me and pushed me to the floor.

“You shall learn obedience,” he glared, “Sigurr take me if you do not!” His hands, as he spoke, pulled the fur leg-wrappings from me, and Lialt’s eyes did not leave us. With the leg wrappings removed, Ceralt’s large hands took hold of my arms, and once again I stood upon the worn, gritty wood of the floor. Great was the anger of the male before me, yet the turning of my insides shamed me more than had he. In fury at myself and at the male who had caused me to feel so, I struggled in his grip and met his light, blazing eyes.

“Jalav obeys no male!” I hissed, feeling the pain of the strands of my hair caught beneath his hands. “Thrice have I felt the touch of a lash, and should it be Mida’s will, I shall bear it a fourth time! Go and fetch your lash, male! No more than my blood shall it take from me!”

The fury rose high in me, memory strong of the pain I had had at the hands of males. No more than pain do males seek to give, for pleasure is to be kept for them alone. Ceralt’s eyes had narrowed, disturbance showing clearly within them, and Lialt left the fire to come and place a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Ceralt, she does not feign her hatred,” said Lialt, his tone uneven. “It sickens me to think of that which must have been done to her to make her so. That the hatred shows only with her fear disturbs me even more, for that indicates how deeply it is buried. Though I have often counseled her punishment, I now feel that gentleness may be the only path to the healing of her soul.”

Lialt’s light eyes were deeply saddened, yet Ceralt stood before me, his head ashake. “She has not yet learned to accept gentleness from men,” said he, his voice heavy as his eyes searched deep within me. “Should she be given gentleness, she will see it as no more than weakness, something to be scorned. Once I gave her gentleness and love, and she pushed me aside in her thoughts and went about seeing to her own will. Not again will I be pushed aside so, looked upon fondly but without respect. I will have the respect of the woman who is mine, and I will have her obedience as well. She will not be lashed, but she will be punished.”

So firmly had Ceralt spoken that Lialt removed his hand from his brother’s shoulder and returned to the fire, standing and staring into its depths, his back to us. Ceralt yet had his gaze upon me, the unruly lock of dark hair again upon his forehead, desire and determination strong in his eyes. His tone had held bitterness when he had spoken of gentleness and respect, as though there were memories within him which had given pain. I had no understanding of what pain he felt, and he did not speak of it again. He merely seated himself cross-legged upon the floor, and pulled me to his lap and arms.

“Jalav, listen carefully,” said he, his arms about me holding me to his chest. “You know well enough that I have never lashed you, nor will I ever do so. You, however, must learn that a man’s word is not to be refused, else shall punishment be brought to you. You have refused the will of Lialt, and you have refused my will. Now shall punishment come to you through your own actions.”

Gentle indeed had been the tone of Ceralt, yet his hand then went to his belt and withdrew a length of leather. As I had sat in his arms and against his chest, the smell of him strong, the strength of him compelling, a weakness had stolen over me, one that I had felt before when beside the male. Much had his close presence stirred my blood, flashing through the center of my being with desire for him, smothering the anger and the fury and the will to depart. Well did I remember the gentleness he had spoken of, yet gentleness was a thing no warrior might remember when about the business of Mida. Surely Ceralt knew that! I raised my eyes to his face and regarded him, he who was so strong and broad and appealing to a warrior. His eyes were again upon me, and when our eyes met, his lips lowered to mine in a touch which was both strong and gentle at one time. He crushed me to him, taking my lips fiercely, and then was I turned about and held for the leather. My flesh had been bared for its coming, and come it did, the strength of Ceralt’s arm well behind each stroke. I writhed and struggled in humiliation, knowing the leather harder than the lash on a warrior’s pride, yet there was no escape from that which Ceralt wished for me. When he felt the matter well done, I was released and placed upon my lenga pelt, and I clung to the hairs of the pelt with my fists, burying my face deep, so that none might see me in my humiliation. Ceralt went to the fire and spoke softly to Lialt, and the second male left, only to return long reckid later. Still was I unable to look upon him, for the ache and sting of the leather had not eased much, yet the choice was taken from me. Ceralt pulled me from the fur and held me for the pot Lialt had, and once more the potion took all consciousness from me.