Chosen of Mida

12 Victory—and bitter defeat

The two feyd passed too slowly for my eagerness, yet upon the second even the male Chaldrin was forced to agree that a further delay would be unnecessary. The pain and weakness had passed from me chased far into nothingness by the prospect of long-desired battle and I was again able to stand tall and straight to answer a challenge.

Two white-clad males came for me in the middle of the fey, disdaining the use of wrist chains, yet insisting upon the presence of the pale red body cloth about my hips. The point was too unimportant to allow it to cause a delay, therefore did I wrap the cloth about me and accompany the males through the corridors and chambers to a barred area where I had never yet been taken. The lines of metal were withdrawn and I was pushed within, and then was the metal quickly closed behind me so that the males might hurry away. As I looked about the area, it was clear where the males hurried.

The chamber was clearly larger than the previous barred areas I had seen, and more than that contained only three walls of carved stone. The fourth was no more than a partial wall, stretching half again as high as I stood, above which were row upon row of carved steps, stretching back away from the half wall. Upon these broad, wide steps sat many of the white-clad males of the cavern, their eyes following me as I stepped farther out upon the carved rock floor, their voices raised in high good humor and coarse jest. Clearly did they expect to see Jalav made slave this fey, yet such a thing would never be. Sooner than be enslaved, Jalav would allow the point of her enemy to reach her.

“Are you prepared to face me, wench?” came a voice, and I turned to see Chaldrin already upon the field, a sword held in each of his hands. He stood in no more than his white body cloth and leather wrist wrappings, perhaps five paces from where I stood.

“Indeed am I prepared,” said I, reaching to the cloth about my hips, untying it, and allowing it to fall. “There will be naught to hamper my blade as it seeks your blood. ”

“Should you think to distract me with that doing,” he grinned, moving nearer, “do not feel too deep a disappointment when it fails. When you find yourself full slave, I will be the first man you are sent to for the purpose of pleasuring him. Which blade would you prefer?”

“It matters little.” I shrugged, reaching for the blade he held in his right hand. “So long as I find it well balanced and honestly keen. I will also require it for my freedom, you see.”

“Ah, indeed,” he nodded, releasing the blade to my grip. A surge of pleasure touched me at the feel of a well made blade in my fist again, and I looked upon the male as I stepped back.

“This weapon will do me,” said I, cutting at the air between us to accustom myself to the preferences of the blade. Each sword has its own preference as to how it wishes to be wielded, and the wise warrior will accede to those preferences rather than attempt to defy them.

“Then we may begin,” said the male, setting himself with the words. He had taken his own blade into his right fist, and he stood with it held before him, prepared for serious attack despite his belief that victory would be easily his. I, too, stood so at his words, yet not for long. I had not come there with the purpose of posing with sword in hand.

I swung gently at the male, seeking the manner in which he would reply, yet he made no reply other than turning my blade from him. I swung again and found the same result, then understood that the male sought to study my own movements before launching an attack of his own. I continued striking at him as though I knew naught of his purpose, yet did I show considerably less strength and speed than was my wont in battle. It had somehow been clear to me from the first that this male would not be as easily defeated as the others, yet defeated he must be if I was to regain my freedom.

The shouts of the white-clad males who watched from above the wall were both encouraging and derisive, but all voices were eager for the battle to go forward more quickly. Chaldrin paid them no more heed than did I, calmly accepting that which I sent to him till the moment he felt himself prepared to do more. When that moment came he moved quickly indeed, halting my blade then immediately striking at my head. I kept his swing from reaching me easily, too easily, for he had not put strength into the blow. The male laughed softly at the flash of anger I felt; he had forced me to show him some part of the speed I was capable of, despite my earlier resolve.

Without warning, the male then launched a series of attacks at me, his blows full strength, his speed startling. Had I been anything less than a war leader, I would surely have been taken in by the deceit behind the attacks. Chaldrin’s aim was to weary my sword arm, wear down my strength till I might no longer fend off attack. His blows were like unto the rock of the entire ceiling falling upon my blade, heavy and unstoppable, resistible only for a very short while. My body wore a sheen of sweat from the attacks I had launched against him, my sword rang and vibrated clear through my arm from his blows, the dirt of the rock floor clung and ground itself into the bottoms of my feet. Two blows I took, then a third, then suddenly slid the fourth and attacked with the speed born of battles without number. Chaldrin had overextended himself in his attempt to put truly great strength into his attack, an error rarely made by any other than a young, inexperienced warrior——or one who was sure she had the measure of her opponent. No matter one’s speed and strength, one cannot return from a wide swing till the top of the arc had been reached and the stroke is then directed downward or upward in return. I had not halted Chaldrin’s stroke, merely assisted it upon its way, and then was my blade seeking the male’s middle, intending to cut into his flesh and free the flow of his blood, so that I, too, might be free.

Straight for the center of the male’s body did my blade flash, eager to taste him, yet the male proved himself a worthy opponent indeed. To block the stroke was not possible, therefore did he take the only avenue remaining open to him. With frantic haste he threw himself to his left, twisting as he went, taking no more than the edge of my blade along his left side. I moved quickly after him, intending to spit him to the rock floor should he falter, yet with his third roll was he returned to his feet, his sword held up and ready, his left hand pressed to his side, bright red flowing between his closely held fingers. Those who watched screamed and stomped with deafening frenzy, and Chaldrin himself looked upon me with a gleam in his dark eyes which I had no understanding of.

Though many another male would have ended the battle there, Chaldrin did not. He came at me again, more slowly and warily, attempting to reach me as I had reached him, yet was such a thing not possible. Had he lacked the wound in his side, the matter would surely have been in the hands of Mida; with the blood flowing so freely from him, no more than a hand of reckid passed in brisk, blinding exchange and the clash of metal before Chaldrin stumbled and went to his knees, dizziness and lack of strength taking their toll. I stood before him wide-legged upon the rock floor, raised my sword high in tribute to a warrior of merit, then took it two-handed and raised it high again, preparing to send him to Mida’s chains, where he night pleasure her for all of eternity.

“Hold!” came a shout from among those who watched, and I glanced back to see that ropes had been let down the half wall, and males now stood upon the floor, one of them Treglin. Above them, standing upon the lip of the wall, three males with drawn bows stood poised to loose. I snarled an oath and stepped clear of Chaldrin, turning instead with sword raised toward those who advanced slowly across the sandy, blood-marked floor.

“I see again clear evidence of the honor of males,” I called in fury to Treglin. “Order those above you to loose now, male, for I shall not again be taken as slave!”

“We have no intentions of taking you again as slave, you ignorant savage!” shouted Treglin, anger boiling truly high within him. “The vow Chaldrin made will be kept by us—yet only if he lives! Stand aside and allow us to tend him!”

“My vow will be kept in any event,” came a hoarse croak from my right. I turned my head to see that Chaldrin had again risen to his feet, unsteadily, blood-covered, yet nevertheless standing straight. His sword lay upon the stone at his feet, and he made no attempt to recover it.

“Chaldrin, you are a fool!” stormed Treglin, hurrying forward to take the other male’s arm and pull it across his shoulders to brace him. “Had you not allowed her to wound you . . . .”

“Allowed?” barked Chaldrin in a pain-filled laugh. “Are you blind, brother? I underestimated the wench, and nearly lost my life by cause of it. Had I not been wounded I might have held her, yet only through Sigurr’s will might I have claimed clear victory. It would please me to face her again—yet only with practice swords.”

I understood none of the male’s amusement at being bested, yet I felt no insult at the attitude. He had fought with great skill and strength, and had not begged for his life even when it was clear it had been lost. I tossed my head to force my free-flying hair back from my arms, and Chaldrin looked full upon me.

“Freedom is yours, wench,” said he, “fully earned as even Treglin knows. In accordance with our bargain, we will now take you to the outer caverns, where you will receive a torch to accompany that sword.”

“I will take her to the outer caverns,” said Treglin, gesturing others of the white-clad males to him. “You will be taken to the healer, where your wound may be bound up. And do not attempt to argue, for I will hear none of it!”

The male Chaldrin did indeed attempt disagreement, yet was his strength insufficient to best that of the others. Two males took him from Treglin and began to assist him in quitting the chamber, yet he forced them to halt and twisted about in their grips.

“Do not allow any in the outer world to set eyes upon you, wench!” he called, able to pause so no more than a brief moment before the others again forced him ahead. “It is instant death for any who attempt to depart the Caverns! Leave the city at once and do not . . . . ”

His words fell away as he was taken from the chamber, and the male Treglin turned from the empty doorway and looked upon me with a great deal of sourness.

“Had that been one of our fighters,” said he, “the healer would have been visited with considerably less delay—at that fool’s insistence. That he cares less for himself comes as no surprise to one who has known him as long as I. Once he is fit again, we will have words over the loss he has caused for us. Follow me quickly, wench, lest I succumb to the temptation of causing my brother to be forsworn. ”

He turned then and strode toward the doorway of the chamber, making no effort to see whether I accompanied him. I glanced toward the three bowmen who had lowered their weapons, saw that those who stood upon the floor kept their distance, then followed Treglin at my own pace.

Treglin impatiently awaited me in the area beyond the chamber, and immediately led the way toward a corridor when I appeared. I followed from corridor to corridor and area to area, aware of the slaves who shrank back from me and the white-clad males who frowned at the weapon I carried, alert for an attempt at treachery which never came. Fully to the heavy metal door of the entrance was I taken, and there did Treglin pause among the males who stood before it.

“Stand back front the door so that we may take within any who have been left chained for us,” said he, gesturing to the right of the door. “Once they are sent deeper into the Caverns, we will then give you your torch. Had I been you, I would have taken the slave cloth to cover my body. There is naught here which you might use.”

“I shall make do without,” said I, moving to one side of the door as he had indicated. I recalled the presence of the green cloth which had been taken from me among the boulders, and knew that it would be easily found with a torch to guide me. I made no mention of my intended halt beyond their precincts, and merely awaited my release.

Two of the males turned to put their shoulders to the door, and it quickly began moving outward. Suddenly, it moved considerably faster than it had, and all the males who were able to see beyond it frowned in surprise.

“So, you have come at last,” said a voice from without, a male voice filled with impatience. “There are none here for you to take within, yet are you to take instructions to your leaders. The Shadow was present when the blasphemer sent to you a few feyd earlier fought upon the Shining Sands this fey. The Shadow was much displeased that he did not fall, and directs that he be sent forth again in two feyd, no sooner and no later. My contingent and I will remain here the while, to enter your domain should the word of the Shadow be disobeyed. You may now reclose this door, yet not as fully as previous.”

“Wait!” called Treglin, disbelief clear upon him. “I do not understand! What are you . . . .”

“You need not understand,” interrupted the voice from without. “You need only obey. Close the door.”

Without the aid of those within, the heavy metal door again began to close, though this time there were heavy braidings of leather tied to the bar within and trailing past the edge of the door, keeping it from closing with its previous smooth fit. Had those without wished, to open the door, they had only to pull upon the leather. Treglin and the others stared till the door had closed as best it might, then did they turn and begin to walk from it.

“Hold!” said I, halting them before they took more than a pair of steps. “Where do you go?”

“I go to consider what those above are now in the midst of,” said he, looking upon me with distraction. “Should it be your wish to depart with twenty warriors on guard beyond, feel free to do so. One of your skill will easily best a hand or more of them before the others strike you down.”

“What of another means of egress?” I said, taking a step toward them. “I care not where it may lead, so long as it takes me from here.”

“The only other means of egress from this domain is death,” said he, looking upon me in an odd manner.

“You seem distraught, girl, yet you need not be. Freedom was promised you, and freedom you shall have—in two feyd, as it cannot be now. I go now to speak with Chaldrin, and you may return with us or remain here, as you please. No man will attempt your use the while you carry that blade.”

He turned then and led the others away, and after three heartbeats of hesitation, I followed. There was little reason to remain before a door I could not use, and it had come to me through waves of anger and frustration that the males without had spoken of Aysayn. That the female Ladayna and her cohort now sought his life in a more active manner was clear, and this purpose I would halt if I were able. To take pleasure from the female’s grasp before I took her life would be satisfying, and this I might accomplish by assisting Aysayn.

Treglin left four of his males to keep watch over the door from a distance, then led the last through the corridors into the inner caverns. I had learned a small number of corridors and areas in the time I had been there, yet the corridors Treglin chose were not among them. He continued on till he came to an area with all further entrances barred save one, then entered the unbarred chamber. When I entered behind him, he was already engaged in speaking with Chaldrin, whose wound was being seen to by another male.

“. . . clearly more important than a mere blasphemer,” said Treglin, frowning toward a Chaldrin who sat as he was being tended. “The Shadow’s warriors stand without, and we are to send the man to the Shining Sands in precisely two feyd. I dislike being commanded by those above, yet what choice have we?”

“For free men, there is ever a choice,” grunted Chaldrin, “and in this domain we are free men. It would please me a great deal to know the reason behind such strange doings. Never before has the Shadow been known to do such a thing.”

“The reason is clear,” said I from where I stood, perhaps two paces within the entrance. “It is not Sigurr’s Shadow who commands the strangeness.”

Each of the males jerked his head about to gape at me, and Chaldrin stared in surprise.

“Wench, why have you not departed?” he demanded, then looked again upon Treglin. “The Shadow’s warriors—they were there when you went to release her?”

“Aye,” nodded Treglin, yet he looked at me rather than at the other male. “What do you know of this, wench? How is it possible to say that the Shadow does not command, when it is his warriors who stand poised to enter our domain?”

“His warriors are commanded by another,” said I, crouching down before the wall so that I might take some rest. “Aysayn, the true Shadow, is here, condemned by treachery to a death which fails to come soon enough for those who wait. Aysayn must be put beyond aid before the return of Mehrayn.”

“What do you know of Sigurr’s Sword?” demanded Chaldrin with a frown. “It is well known that he and the Shadow are near brothers, yet—what would a slave wench know of these things?”

“Chaldrin forgets that Jalav is no slave,” said I, rising straight again at the tone of the male. “It was Jalav who freed Mehrayn and the others from capture in a city to the north, Jalav who returned with them here to bring Sigurr’s word to the Shadow Aysayn. For this reason was Jalav taken captive, and for this reason will Jalav have the life of Ladayna, from whom all this evil has arisen! Are you fool enough to doubt me, male?”

All four of the males looked upon me in silence, none moving, till he who had been tending Chaldrin recalled what he was about. He turned again with dampened cloth to the wound, and Chaldrin straightened in pain at the touch, drawing his breath in sharply. The sound brought Treglin from his stare, and he turned to the white-clad male who stood beside him.

“Have the new fighter brought here,” said Treglin, grim determination having taken him. “I will know the truth of this matter before I consider what may be done for it.”

The other male nodded and hurried from the chamber, passing me with an uneasy glance. I stood with swordpoint resting upon the stone of the floor, yet the male undoubtedly knew how quickly that swordpoint might be raised.

“Chaldrin, you should not have taken sword in hand again,” said the one who tended Chaldrin’s wound, spreading a salve upon the bloody gash. “Of all those who dwell in this domain, I find you the most difficult to tend. You must rest a full hand of feyd at minimum, else will the wound be overlong in healing.”

“I will see that he takes his rest,” said Treglin, crouching down to assist with the cloth the other male would use to bind the wound. Chaldrin halted his breathing till the last of the salve was upon him, then looked toward me as the cloth was raised.

“It would be no more than fair if she who wounded me also tended me,” said he with a faint grin as his wound was covered. “I would then remain upon my furs a good deal longer.”

“A neck chain would also see to the matter,” said I, discounting the chuckling of the other two. How odd were these Sigurri, always and forever accepting strangers and enemies to tend them. Truth to tell, I knew not how they had managed to survive.

“Here,” said Treglin, rising from his crouch before Chaldrin and turning to throw a square of white cloth to me. “It is plain you care naught for whether your body is covered, yet do we run perilously close to your reenslavement as you are. As there are weighty matters to be considered by us, use the cloth so that we may consider them with full attention.”

Chaldrin and the male tending him chuckled, yet Treglin clearly meant the words he spoke. Resting my sword against the wall, I opened the square of cloth and wrapped it about me, then reclaimed my sword before crouching again.

A number of reckid passed in silence, during which time Chaldrin lay back upon the fur he had been tended on. The wound I had given him was not gravely serious, yet had he lost a goodly amount of blood, which ever took one’s strength. I thought perhaps he slept, yet when Aysayn was brought within the chamber, he again moved himself to sitting. Sigurr’s Shadow remained bare of all covering, and when he was brought past me, I was able to see the traces remaining of the lashing he had taken.

“There is a matter I will have the truth from you on,” said Treglin when Aysayn stood before Chaldrin and himself. “For what reason would Sigurr’s Shadow concern himself with you? For what reason would he wish your life?”

“Sigurr’s Shadow is very fond of the fighter who stands before you,” replied Aysayn, folding his arms as he looked upon the other. “Though I was lashed when last I spoke of it, allow me to repeat myself: I am Sigurr’s Shadow.”

“I am able to see sense in the thing no other way,” said Chaldrin, gazing up at Aysayn. “He fought with high skill of the Sands, far beyond all nestlings and most victors. The sole point I cannot reconcile is the failure of him who replaced you behind the Golden Mask to challenge you before the entire city. How may a man who yearns for the highest place think to face Sigurr as his Shadow, when he has not earned that place?”

“The prime mover behind this treachery is not male,” said Aysayn, his voice hardening. “No man would fail to realize the demands of the position I have found it necessary to defend my place four times with the sword blessed by Sigurr. The wench schemed long and well to have me as I am now, yet would she regret it if she were suddenly faced with challenge a fifth time. He who now stands behind the Mask would fall, and she with him.”

“We are commanded to have you upon the Shining Sands in two feyd time,” said Treglin, eyeing Aysayn sourly. “For what reason would we be given such a command?”

“It is clear Ladayna means to have my life before the return of Mehrayn,” shrugged Aysayn. “She undoubtedly has other plans to keep the Sword from discovering the truth, yet will she find difficulty in such a doing. Mehrayn is not so great a fool as I.”

“You have none of you touched the topic of main concern,” said I, rising from my crouch as they all turned to look upon me. “We are all aware of their intentions; what are we to do to halt those intentions?”

“That, wench, is a problem not easily solved,” said Chaldrin, grimacing as he moved about upon the fur. “Perhaps Sigurr will appear at the last moment, and confront the wrongdoers with accusation.”

“Such is foolishness!” I snapped, gesturing away the nonsense of the male. “There are no more than four hands of Ladayna’s warriors stationed at the door which gives egress from these Caverns; your white-clad males number greater than that. For what reason do we not fall upon those warriors and then seek Ladayna in her lair above? Have your males no skill in doing battle? Are they able to do no more than watch others?”

The males gazed upon me in unexpected silence, their faces showing naught of expression, and then a faint smile touched the lips of Chaldrin.

“It is clear you know naught of our circumstances here, girl,” said he. “Each of us here has considerable skill in battle, for each of us here was a victor when he fought upon the Shining Sands. Should a man live two kalod as a victor, and be as weary of battle as we, he is then given white cloth to cover himself with, and the position of training those who are sent to us as nestlings. Should we do as you suggest and return to the city above, our lives are immediately forfeit. To attempt to run to another place would be idle, for where would we go? This has become our home, as well as our place of exile. You would have me ask my men to turn their backs on it for certain death? I think not. ”

“Perhaps you have not considered the Shadow’s pardon,” said Aysayn, turning again to look down upon Chaldrin. “Should you assist me in regaining my freedom, yours would be regained as well. Yours, and that of your men who fought at my side.”

“And what if you were to fall?” asked Treglin, the while Chaldrin’s broad face grew disturbed. “If you were lost and your cause as well, what of us? Would our lives not then be forfeit for certain?”

“Should it be that Sigurr’s face has turned from me, such a thing may well occur,” said Aysayn, his voice heavy with a sigh. “I cannot demand your assistance, for I no longer stand behind the Mask. You must each of you do as you think best, and I will trust in Sigurr to set my feet upon the path to victory.”

“Ah, Mida! Why must males be such great fools?” I demanded of the air above me, unable to keep silent any longer. “What glory is there in merely living? What dignity in merely accepting punishment and exile? These are brothers, these males, all of a city as we are of the sister clans; how may brothers deny one another so easily, as sisters of the Midanna would never do? This is surely the reason they will fall before us, for they will enter battle as strangers to one another, uncaring of glory and bereft of dignity. So much for the followers of Sigurr.”

“We cannot all of us be as bloodthirsty as you, girl,” said Chaldrin, the dryness of his tone bringing amusement to the other males. “Unlike a young, glory-seeking female, a man must think before he throws his life away.”

“To find those who will assist this one will require more than thought,” said Treglin, the sourness having returned to him. “There are matters which require my attention, and I go now to see to them. Do not leave that fur, Chaldrin, else I will heed the wench and have you chained there.”

Treglin then took himself off, gesturing the male who had brought Aysayn with him he who had tended Chaldrin following after the first two. Chaldrin took a pile of furs upon which he might rest his back, and Aysayn again folded his arms as he studied me.

“I had not expected to see you here, Jalav,” said he after a moment of silence. “When I entered and saw you crouching by the wall, I thought I was to be given the gift I had been promised for victory.”

“I, too, have had a victory,” said I, aware of the amusement Chaldrin made no effort to conceal. “I have not received the gift for victory I was promised; for what reason must you be?”

“The promise was given me first,” said Aysayn, beginning to share Chaldrin’s amusement. “And there you stand, clearly with no other task assigned to you. Chaldrin—may I borrow one of your furs?”

“Certainly,” said Chaldrin with a chuckle, his dark eyes continuing to rest upon me. “A victory such as yours has ever earned a man a new fur.”

“Perhaps this one has not been told the penalty for a slave attempting to overstep himself with those who are free,” said I, watching with some small interest as Aysayn turned and began to take a fur from the pile beside Chaldrin. “A pity his last defeat will come as soon after his first victory by cause of the lack.”

“Defeat?” snorted Aysayn, straightening with a folded fur in his hand. “Who is to supply this defeat? And what is this of slave and free? Do you think yourself above me, wench?”

“There are three of us within this chamber.” I shrugged. “Two are covered and one is bare. Of the two who are covered, one is armed and the other would be armed if he wished to be. He who is bare has not been given the choice concerning arms. Surely must he who is bare be considered a slave.”

“I see,” said Aysayn, nodding judiciously with lips pursed. “And do you believe, wench, that the presence of a sword in your fist assures a knowledge of its use? One must hold a sword for many kalod—and use it—before such knowledge is available.”

“The wench’s knowledge of a sword is sufficient for most,” said Chaldrin, looking upon me again with the gleam he had shown during our battle. “There is, of course, considerable room for improvement, yet is she adequate. However, only with a sword.”

“Jalav is also no stranger to the dagger and spear and bow,” said I with stiffness, displeased with the gall of the male. There he lay, his blood flowing free by cause of my sword, and he dared to speak of merely adequate?

“The dagger and spear and bow, like the sword, are merely weapons which may be lost—or taken from one,” said Chaldrin, his calm undisturbed by my obvious annoyance. “One must learn to defend oneself without such weapons, else is one no more than a helpless female child.”

“Let those who think me helpless face my sword,” said I to Chaldrin, standing tall before the male. “They will learn—as you have—that Jalav is not war leader of all the Midanna for naught.”

“Ah, then it was you who did him so,” said Aysayn, eyeing me as he continued to hold the fur. “I had wondered, for I have seen this man with a sword. And yet he speaks the truth, wench. A full leader must know all methods of defense and attack.”

“Jalav’s knowledge is—adequate,” said I with some sourness, weary of these males and their constant thirst for teaching. Surely had Mida abandoned them to the dark god for their failure to leave well enough alone.

“Adequate only for my purposes,” said Aysayn, a slow grin taking him. “For your purposes, you will soon see their worth. I mean to claim my victory gift, wench, and would have you know my purpose before I attempt it.”

“Your purpose is to throw away your life,” I shrugged, turning with sword up to face him. “The doing will surely send Ladayna’s males from the door, allowing me to quit this place. Therefore will my purposes indeed be served.”

“It is I who will be served,” said he, moving forward with the fur in his hands. “And by you.”

The male, continuing to wear a look of amusement, came forward slowly with the folded fur held before him. I slashed at his head, and then at his side yet each time my blade met naught save the fur. The male used it as though it were a shield, his hands to either side safe through the speed of his movements. Twice I tried for his arms, and each time was my sword muffled in the fur. A straight thrust at his heart resulted in his quickly jumping to one side with a twist, and my sword passed harmlessly by. I threw a backstroke at him and retreated a step, yet the backstroke was avoided as easily as the rest. Chaldrin chuckled where he lay leaning upon a mound of furs, and the warmth of the cavern chamber began to slick my body.

It was not many reckid before the male’s advance put my back to the chamber wall. I had attempted to attack as I had ever done with speed and no quarter, yet the male had dipped and bobbed and jumped, and had once nearly trapped my blade in the folds of the fur. The feel of the stone at my back made me know there was no farther I might go to escape the advance, therefore did I essay a double cross-stroke at the male, to drive him back and perhaps reach his flesh at last. The male retreated at the attack, holding his fur before him, and I immediately followed to press my advantage. Fully half the distance already covered did he retreat, narrowly saving himself from my strokes, and then, when I thought him bested at last, he abruptly disappeared from before me. Down to the floor of the chamber had he thrown himself, not to beg for mercy as another would, but to tangle his legs in mine. I raised my sword to hack down at his unprotected body, yet the stroke was not to be. In some manner were my feet abruptly no longer beneath me, and the rock of the chamber floor struck my back hard.

“I had best take this now,” panted Aysayn, immediately grasping my wrist and freeing the sword from my grip. I felt deeply dazed from the fall, and before I might force myself to stir, the weapon was gone.

“She nearly had you there, a time or three,” remarked Chaldrin with the chuckle now to be heard in his voice. “Had she done as she intended we would indeed be free of unasked-for difficulty.”

“I am all too well aware of how near she came,” said Aysayn, kneeling across me before pulling his forearm over his forehead. “Had she been familiar with this method of doing battle, my blood would have joined yours.”

I fought to move myself where I lay between his thighs, yet my efforts did no more than cause me to stir. The dazedness left me only slowly, not nearly soon enough to halt Aysayn’s hands from taking the white cloth which had been wrapped about me.

“There are now two who are unclothed in this chamber,” said he, running his hands easily over my body after he had put the cloth aside. “I will, of course, take the loin cloth for my own use when I am done with you, as part of my victory spoils. And, as the possession of a sword gives you such pleasure, you may now have possession of this one.”

His hands took my thighs as his knees parted them, and then was he entering me with such strength that I gasped. I attempted to raise myself from the stone in protest, and his palms came to my shoulders as his weight increased.

“Do you feel him deep within you, wench?” came the voice of Chaldrin, a lazy satisfaction to his tone. “Had you taken the effort to learn more than sword use, he would not have been able to put you to man use. You now reap the bitter seed of those who will not learn.”

Moving in fury at Chaldrin’s words did no more than cause Aysayn to hum with pleasure. His lips tasted me as his deep stroking brought the first moan to my throat; I lay upon the stone of the floor, beneath the sweat-covered body of the male, forced to feel pleasure as well as to give it. My fury did not abate, yet was it as useless as my attempt to take the male with a sword. Well used was I by Sigurr’s Shadow, and made to writhe with ease.