Chosen of Mida

9 The Caverns of the Doomed—and the fruits of attempted escape

I lay upon the furs clutching at Mehrayn and moaning no longer able to bear the need he had produced in me. The male held me to him and spoke soothingly, his eyes filled with compassion for what he had done, yet also filled with knowledge of the need for it. His hands continued to keep me in a state of deep excitement, yet his body, though well prepared, made no effort to use that excitement.

“Just a few reckid longer, lovely wench,” said he, kissing my face as I writhed against him. “The new light grows brighter and brighter, and soon the bell will surely ring.”

“Mehrayn, now!” I wept, reduced to begging and caring naught for the shame of it. “I cannot bear it a moment longer! You must use me now!”

“Jalav, you know I cannot!” he begged in return, keeping me from slipping away from his merciless, probing hand. “If your need grows less than it now is, you will not allow me to use you upon my altar during devotions! You must recall that the suggestion of this course of action was yours, and that I burn with you! Be brave, my love, and you will soon have that which you crave.”

Be brave! I moaned again and attempted to fight the strength of his arms, yet there was no escape, no release. Faintly, through the waves of flashing, weakening heat racing about my body, I did indeed recall that the agony I now faced was my own doing. The darkness before, I had attempted to refuse Mehrayn my use during his devotions, only to find myself forced to the service of his god. Afterward I had been furious enough to demand that he release me and face me with blades, yet the male would not release me till he had explained the reason for what he had done. I impatiently listened to all I had been told previously, caring not a whit for it, and then I had heard a point never before mentioned. The male believed that any warrior who failed to participate in devotions when he was able was thereafter in danger of his life and soul in any battles he next found himself embroiled in. Though Mehrayn spoke only of my life and his refusal to allow me to throw it away, I was suddenly minded of the battle he intended marching to once I had left. It was clear the male held deep beliefs concerning his devotions, and I had wished to give him a gift before his journey, one which would equal his gift of the green cloth. How else was I to gift him save with my willing use, and how else was I to provide willingness in the face of that which I loathed? The answer was simple, the results not as easily accepted.

“Mehrayn, allow me to pleasure you,” I panted, touching his chest with my tongue in a hand of places. “You need only release me so that I might reach you properly. Release me and I will bring a glow to your soul!”

“My soul is too well occupied with imminent bursting,” he moaned, pulling my head away from him by a fistful of hair. “Perhaps we would be well advised to begin making our way to the altar in anticipation of the bell. Should we remain here any longer, Sigurr will turn his face from me in disgust.”

“No,” I moaned as he forced me from him and to my knees, he following along in the same manner. “I cannot move from here without being used! Mehrayn, I am in agony!”

“Then let us hasten to the altar,” said he, returning his hand to its place between my thighs. I cried out in fury and threw myself from him, turned to my back, then kicked with all the strength in my legs. The blow caught him on the chest and threw him backward to the floor cloth, and with another cry I was upon him. If he would not have my use, I would have his!

Nearly did I have him within me before his hands came to my arms, attempting to force me from him. I snarled and pounded at his chest with both fists, glaring down upon him, and an answering growl came from him before he suddenly pulled me close. His fist buried in my hair crushed my lips to his, and then he released me with a howl as both of my fists pulled at his hair. His red mane was thick enough to fill many hands, and we rolled about upon the floor cloth, anger filling our minds, till it came to us that the fresh, new air of the fey was now filled with sound.

“The bell!” said he, looking down upon me where I lay between his knees. “Jalav, the bell! Now we go quickly to the altar! ”

He jumped to his feet and pulled me to mine, and together we ran laughing to his altar. As quickly as the black candle was lit, that quickly was he within me, taking the pleasure he knew so well how to take, giving the pleasure he was so well able to give. Had the dark god been observing us, he would surely have been pleased with my cries and Mehrayn’s grunts, yet not nearly as pleased as were we. When the storm had finally passed, Mehrayn did not withdraw till our lips had had enough of touching and being touched. It had been so throughout much of the darkness, his presence within me adding to the sweetness of his kiss. I felt a great reluctance to release him, a reluctance he apparently shared, as he continued to remain in possession of me. Our lips met and our tongues joined, and the hands of each touched the flesh of the other.

“For one who so dislikes this altar,” said he in a murmur between lip-touching, “you seem oddly content to remain where you were placed. Should we continue to lie here so, I will soon be prepared to praise Sigurr a second time.”

“It need not be done here,” I murmured in return, gently moving my hips. “And this time I might perhaps use you.”

“I believe I have decided to take you with me when I march,” said he, taking my face in both of his hands. “I will have a long, covered litter prepared to be carried by four kand, and I will spend the entire march in the depth of your warmth. When we have arrived at our destination, neither of us will be able to walk. ”

“Are we not two excellent warriors?” I sighed, smiling as I touched the face so close above me. “Our sworn duties await, and here we be, pleasuring our bodies and befogging our minds.”

“Our sworn duties,” he said with a sigh to equal mine. “We have much before us of that sort, do we not, lovely wench? When I return, the balance of my warriors will surely be prepared to march against the strangers. I would be pleased if I found you here awaiting me, so that we might take the return journey to Bellinard together. Will I find you awaiting me, my love?”

“I am already awaited,” I answered with a good deal of difficulty, strangely finding myself unable to meet his eyes. “Without me my warriors are crippled, for I am their war leader. Their need, Mehrayn, is greater than yours, I think.”

“Not so, and yet unarguable,” he sighed again, a heaviness to his tone. “You must see to your responsibilities as leader just as I must see to mine, and yet what of our own, personal needs? Must we deny them forever?”

“Those of us who ride for the gods are not permitted personal needs,” I said, this time meeting the rebellion in the green eyes which gazed upon me. “The gods are jealous of their service, and those who attempt to deny the call are terribly punished. What call then from personal needs?”

“I see you speak from personal experience,” said he, the rebellion having faded, yet not entirely disappeared. “Let us see to our duties, then, and speak again of ourselves when the duties are done. Go where you must, my lovely Jalav. Sigurr’s Sword will follow and find you.”

His lips then came to mine a final time, a last touching of length before he withdrew and arose. The desire we had felt but moments earlier was no longer with us, and we went together without words to the platform where we might wash the spendings from ourselves. During that time I noticed that the red dye upon my breasts was considerably faded, due in great part to the efforts of Mehrayn, yet found no opportunity to mention the observation. Two slaves arrived with boards of provender, and these Mehrayn and I saw to with more determination than appetite.

With the provender gone, we covered our bodies, Mehrayn in black, I in green. The cloth was soft yet serviceable, and then I was given an additional gift. My swordbelt and weapons were farther out of reach than was my breech, and therefore did Mehrayn produce ones of his own to take their place. I donned the swordbelt with a good deal of pleasure, put the dagger aside till I might fashion leg bands to replace those taken from me, then joined Mehrayn in a final touching of lips. The reluctance to release him continued to pull at me as it seemed to do him, yet the need for parting was inevitable. This male would be denied me as thoroughly as any other while I rode in Mida’s name; I spent no thought on what would occur afterward, for I did not believe there would be an afterward. In one manner or another, the time would never come.

A length of leather secured the dagger to my right leg, and then we quitted the chamber to find a small door which led from the dwelling to a quiet side court. Awaiting us there were two kand and the black-clad male called Hesain, he who had nearly felt the full strength of my kick when Mehrayn had attempted to name me slave. The young males he trained were nowhere in evidence, and he bowed to Mehrayn—and myself as well.

“All is prepared as you directed, Prince,” said he, agesture toward the kand. “As you depart publicly with your warriors from the front of the house, the wench and I will depart quietly from the rear.”

“I see you have the spear I returned with,” said Mehrayn with a nod of approval. “The weapon will be of greater use to the wench than one of ours, for the balances are not the same. See her safely to the forests, Hesain, and then return here immediately. As soon as Aysayn has resumed residence, she must be told.”

“I will see to it with the utmost dispatch, Prince,” said the male with a look of curiosity. “And yet, would it not be wiser to appoint another to bring word the while I remain with the wench in the forests? The dangers there are not to be dismissed due to the forest’s nearness to our city.”

“I am well aware of the dangers,” grinned Mehrayn, “and it is for that reason you are to return. There is no need to give Jalav the chore of seeing to the safety of more than herself.”

Mehrayn’s hand had gone to rub at the now-healed scars upon his right shoulder, causing me to laugh with him at the jest he had made. The male Hesain, rather than finding insult at our laughter, smiled quietly with the knowledge that Mehrayn and I shared a private amusement which did not reflect upon him.

“You had best go now, Prince,” said Hesain after another moment. “Your warriors and many citizens await your appearance. ”

“Indeed,” said Mehrayn, a quiet smile taking him. “When one is awaited, one must go. Care for yourself, my Jalav, and recall my words.”

His hand came to touch my face gently, and then he turned and strode back into the dwelling, disappearing behind the door. I stood a moment with hand resting upon sword hilt, resisting the desire to consider the concept of afterward, then returned my attention to Hesain.

“I see the Prince has chosen his mate,” said the male, allowing his eyes to move about me as he grinned. “A pity the Shadow is not present to bestow Sigurr’s blessings upon the union. I now understand why you must be informed so quickly of his return.”

“Your understanding is as complete as that of all males,” said I, folding my arms as I looked upon him. “You may remove that leather seat from my kan, for I shall not be using it. A Midanna warrior has no need of such artificial aid.”

The brows of the male rose in surprise, yet he did as I bid him. I took the bow and quiver which had been tied to the seat and hung them about me, then jumped to the back of my now-seatless kan. From what seemed a long distance off came the sound of many voices raised in shouts of approval, and the male Hesain nodded as he mounted his own kan.

“The Prince departs, and now we may do the same,” said he, drawing from the ground the spear which was to be mine. “Come, let us traverse the streets before the people return to them.”

He turned his mount and led the way to a wide door, and a moment later we were without the court and riding between the large, glittering-black dwellings of the level. The heat and light of the fey were rising, yet not so the brightness. High clouds rode the air a distance above the city, speaking of the possibility of coming rain. The ways we traversed were empty of all folk, as though they hid from the clouds high above, yet were they in reality occupied with bidding farewell to Mehrayn and his males. The male had spoken jestingly of my accompanying him, and yet had I not had other commitments pressing me, the journey would have been one I would have joined with pleasure. This the turn of my thoughts as I rode, and the sight of the dwellings about me faded from my inner eye.

There was scarcely time enough to see that we were about to begin the descent to the level below when the attack came. Males in black cloth were suddenly all about us, most carrying oddly shaped spears. My sword flashed from its scabbard as the males closed, Hesain first ridding himself of my spear before doing the same. In truth, I could not fault the male for his actions, for the added reach my spear would have given would have done little against the sharp, curved metal heads of the spears of our adversaries. I slashed at a male who foolishly came too near, opening a gaping wound between neck and shoulder, and thereafter the males used their spears to defend against my blade, slashing at me to keep my sword constantly moving in defense. Hesain, too, was done so, our kand being held closely by our enemies to keep us from freeing ourselves of blade confinement, and then was the male done for all time. One of the odd spears thrust from my right, penetrating the body of Mehrayn’s male, sending his blood flowing free as he fell from his kan. A fury rose up in me and I beat at the forest of wood and metal before me then jumped snarling to the ground, intent upon taking many lives before mine was taken as Hesain’s had been. I swung my blade more in attack than defense, forcing the enemy males to back or die, knowing naught of the coward’s stroke before it fell on me. From behind came the haft of a spear against my head, taking my senses and sending me to blackness.

Surely I must have thought that I had been done the same as Hesain, for I recall a sense of surprise when voices penetrated the dark in which I was wrapped, bringing me a short distance toward the light.

“ . . . see no reason for her having been permitted to slay a warrior,” said a female voice, annoyance and anger hardening it. “Was the fool so taken with the low-born look of her that he mistook what he was about?”

“I was not present, high lady,” came a different male reply, stiff yet restrained. “I am told, however, that . . . .”

“Enough!” snapped the female voice, rude in its awareness of power. “How this slave gained her freedom is clear enough, Mehrayn being the fool he is, yet he is not alone in his folly. What was done once may be done a second time, and I will not have her running about free and interfering with the plans!”

“Then you wish her slain,” said the male voice, a touch of regret to be heard. “A great pity, that, for there are few to equal her. ”

“You may wipe away your tears of disappointment, man,” sneered the female, anger increasing. “Should I order her slain, her trials would then be over, no further punishment to be given her. She merits punishment, this one, for daring to set her will against mine, and she shall have it. Her slavery will continue as I originally commanded, and the place she serves will be the Caverns of the Doomed.”

“There?” demanded the male, a sound of shock to him. “High lady, that would be more than punishment, more than simple slavery! The survivors of the trials are feral beasts, uncaring of what they do to those about them! A wench in their hands would be . . . .”

“Used as she should be used!” snarled the female, nearly choking with rage. “Should your concern for her be so deep that you cannot accept my command, perhaps you would care to accompany her farther than the first portal! Well?”

“I cannot find concern that deep for any person save myself, high lady,” returned the male, his tone having gone dry. “I had merely wished to point out that the wench would be wasted, ruined for those of us who might otherwise enjoy her. I would not enter the Caverns of the Doomed, as one condemned, for the use of any female living, nor would any man not bereft of his senses.”

“Your practical nature is a great comfort to me, Pinain,” said the female, her voice now a purr. “You and your men may take this slave to the Caverns now, and when the deed is done you may return here. That slave may attract the baser side of you; I will show you how superior a true woman is.”

“The reckid will be kalod, high lady,” said the male, a huskiness evident in his tone. “I will return as quickly as she is secured in the outer Cavern.”

I attempted to move then, discovered that my ankles and wrists were bound, and discovered also that consciousness was not a permanent thing. A humming darkness took me for a time, and when it left I found I rode the shoulder of a male, belly down wrists and ankles as tightly bound as they had been. The feet below the shoulder strode a corridor, the sound of other feet accompanying them, and then the feet passed through a doorway and began a descent. So far down into the ground did we go that surely did I believe I would again he placed in a dungeon, yet the end of the descent found us in a long, torch-lit stone corridor. Up this corridor I was carried to its very end, down another long flight of steps, across into a second corridor, and then downward again. The deeper we went the cooler it became, and at last the corridor opened out to an area hidden in shadows, the trail we trod only faintly lit by the torches two of the others had taken from a wall. Though I had been aware of the journey to that point, it was only then that a sense of urgency made its way through the faint mist my mind had been surrounded by. These males took me I knew not where, yet was it surely a place I had no wish to be. I stiffed where I hung upon the shoulder of the male, testing the strength of the leather which held my wrists behind me, and the male who carried me grunted.

“The slave has awakened, Pinain,” said the male, placing a hand on my thigh to hold me still. “Shall I untie her ankles and have her walk?”

“Not yet,” came the voice of the male I had heard earlier, in converse with the female I now knew was Ladayna. “There is a stretch of large boulders just ahead, and a place in the midst of them where her ankles may be untied. Yet not to allow her to walk. ”

The males all joined in coarse laughter, and I struggled again to part the leather which bound me. The fury I felt added to my returning strength, yet not nearly enough. The boulders the male had spoken of were reached, our party stepped well among them, and then I was thrown to the dark sand which covered the ground. A hand of them stood looking hungrily upon me, and then the first among them, undoubtedly he called Pinain, stepped forward. His hands slowly undid the green cloth from about my loins, threw it away into the shadows, then reached for his own body cloth. His intent was strong and easily seen, and when the leather was removed from my ankles I kicked at him, hoping to ruin his intent and manhood together. The kick, however, was not unexpected, and with laughter the two who held no torches took my ankles and spread them wide for their grinning leader, who quickly put himself between my thighs. As I had no desire for him his first thrusts were pain, as were his squeezing hands upon my breasts, and then my body saw to its own salvation, accepting what was forced upon it. The male took his pleasure quickly, withdrew immediately, then stepped away to allow the second his place. One by one each of them used me, none caring for giving pleasure, each intent only upon taking it. I had no need to do other than endure, yet my mind seethed with near-madness the while. The single thought which kept my sanity was the determination that one fey I would again be free with a sword in my hand. Come that fey, these males would pay in blood for that which they did.

When the sport of the males was done, I was pulled to my feet and returned to the path we had left with a sharp thrust. The path was stone with a light covering of sand, the same dark sand which now covered me and snarled my hair. All about was deep shadow whispering of far, unseen reaches, yet the males kept me from losing myself in that darkness by the simple expedient of holding to my sand-twisted hair. At first the males took amusement from coming close and touching me insultingly, yet the farther we went, the less amusement was to be found in them. They grew increasingly ill at ease, and then the torches they carried shone upon the mouth of a cavern, ending the path we approached it upon. In silence was I hurried to the cavern entrance, and then inside.

Inside was a high cavern of no great width, the walls before and behind us perhaps four paces apart. Directly across from the entrance stood a large, heavy, metal door, ominous in the faint flickerings of the cavern torches. The males did no more than glance at this metal door before hurrying past it to the left, to where perhaps three females and more than twice that number of males sat or lay chained to the walls to either side. The females wept and the males moaned, and some few began to beg freedom of the males who had brought me. The males, however, paid them no mind as I was taken beyond the last of the chained males and thrown to the cavern floor before a heavy shackle let into the rock, which ended in a thick metal collar. The collar was quickly put about my throat and closed, the chain pulled upon to be sure it remained secure, and then the males took hasty leave of the place, returning with their wildly dancing torches to the darkness without.

The doing took a number of reckid, yet was I at last able to squirm about so that I was seated rather than lying down, my back and bound arms leaning upon the wall behind me. The moans and weeping had continued the while, none speaking, none cursing and shouting. The females, I discovered, were held in place only by the collars about their throats, as were a surprising number of males. For the most part these males were thin and weakly, if not in body then certainly in spirit. No less than four of them wept openly, the others curled up in an attempt to hide their nakedness. It was clear that the place I had been brought held great terror for these folk, a thing which brought a frown to my face. What manner of terror was it which awaited, and how might it be fought?

A number of hind passed without bringing answers to my questions. No others entered the cavern to be chained by the neck to the wall, and above this, none came with sustenance. I felt no hunger after having shared provender with Mehrayn, yet my throat could have done with a few generous swallows. My body, too, would have done well with wetness, if not to cleanse it of sand, then to remove the stink of the males who had used me. The presence of that stink continued to bring me fury, there in the dim cavern so far below the ground.

And then there came the sound of footsteps approaching from without, many feet which were leather-shod. The whimpering all about suddenly ceased as though silenced by Mida, and a held-breath sense of expectation filled the cavern. Into this silence came many males, all black-clad, all wearing weapons, none seeming moved by their surroundings save the lone, unclad male in their midst. Large was the male and light-haired, and no more might be seen of his face by cause of the black cloth covering his mouth. He struggled in the heavy chains which bound him, yet the males who brought him paid no mind to his struggles. They halted before the dark metal door, one drew his sword and pounded upon the door with its hilt, then all stood in silence and waited. No more than a few reckid passed before rattling and scraping came at the door, and then it opened outward to reveal four burly males.

“Greetings,” said one of the black-clad males to the four who had appeared. These four wore white, yet was it a dirty, stained, and sweat-soaked white. “We bring you a new addition to your flock, one well deserving of whatever tender mercies are shown him. He committed the sacrilege of attempting to pass himself off as Sigurr’s Shadow, ignorant of the fact that the Shadow had already returned from communion with Sigurr. So insistent was he that the lady Ladayna was disturbed, yet did she clarify the difficulty for the guardsmen who were new to their post. This one is not the Shadow despite his rantings, and he will not be permitted to disturb the Shadow and his woman again. You may remove his gag if having your ears assaulted with shouts does not disturb you.”

“He will not shout,” rumbled one as two others stepped forward to take the male and force him within the doorway. “At least, he will not shout at his own urging. Few here do.”

The black-clad males watched the chained one gone within the doorway, then did they nod to those who remained at the door and turn away, leaving as they had come. The burly males stood within the doorway till the sound of sandaled feet had faded, then did their eyes come to those who lay chained about the walls.

“Let us also take this dross within,” said the one who had spoken to the black-clad males, his eyes moving over what the neck-chains held. “There is garbage to haul and weapons to be cleaned, and bodies to be thrown in the abyss. This scum has lazed about long enough.”

“There are females,” observed the other, licking his lips as the two moved forward. “Undoubtedly the worst to be had, yet female none the less.”

“Perhaps not quite the worst,” returned the first male, pausing to look down at me. He was large and thick in the shoulders and chest, covered all over with dark, curly hair, even his brows thick over dark eyes. “This one, I think, we will keep a longer while than usual.”

“In Sigurr’s name, how does one such as she come to be here?” demanded the second, stopping beside the first. He, too, was thick in the shoulders and chest and dark-haired, yet, unlike the first, his middle was less trim than thick. Heavy bands of leather were to be seen upon his wrists as he put his fists to his hips, bands which seemed something other than restraints.

“In Sigurr’s name, I know not,” replied the first, a faint smile upon his lips. “Shall we return her with a note stating a mistake has been made?”

“Certainly,” laughed the second, clapping the other upon the shoulder. “In due course, we should do no other thing. We would not wish to be condemned for taking what was not ours. ”

The two males laughed together over the jest they shared, then did they begin taking the waiting males from their collars. Most whimpered, many begged, and some cried, only one attempting to regain his freedom through struggle. The male was well made yet small in stature, and though he had little hope of besting the two larger males, still did he make the attempt. Two strong blows were delivered by him to the middle of the second male, he who had seemed merely thicker than the first, yet to my surprise and the small male’s, the thicker male seemed to feel naught of the blows. He caught the arm of the small male before a third blow might be struck, twisted the arm with little effort, then turned the small male from him, producing a gasp of pain in he who was held. The two large males exchanged looks of interest and approval, and the first male came to take the captive by the hair.

“This one may do for the trials, brother,” said he, inspecting the small male who seemed incapable of moving from the position he had been twisted to. “It will likely be necessary to train him first, yet does he seem to have the required drive. What think you?”

“That he is the best of the dross does not mean he will survive elimination to continue in the trials,” said the second, his tone dubious yet reserved. “We will perhaps try him and then we shall see.”

The second male then took his captive within the still-open metal door, leaving the last of the begging males for the first. He, too herded his captives within, and when the two reappeared they began to uncollar the females. These had seemed too frightened to weep aloud in the presence of the white-clad males, the two slaves as well as she who was not marked as a slave. The first male now paused before she who had been free, and gazed down upon her.

“And for what thing have you been sent here, hey, wench?” he asked, inspecting her slight, light-haired, trembling form. “Surely not coldness, else would you already have been declared slave. Were I asked to speculate upon the matter, I would wager heavily upon theft. Is this not so?”

“No no, you are mistaken!” the female wept, sending up a terrified glance to the male, and surely did it seem that his speculation had hit the mark. The female had paled visibly in the torchlight, and her trembling had increased.

“It matters little whether I am mistaken or speak the truth,” said the male, continuing to look down upon the frightened female. “Should you attempt to practice such a trade within these precincts, you will not merely be given to the victors of the trials; you will be declared live prey for those who train for the trials, with a bounty placed first upon your hands, then your feet, and lastly upon your head. There will be no second chances. Do you understand?”

Rather than reply, the shuddering female choked and turned to the wall, then emptied herself of all within her. Again and again the spasms struck, twisting her to helplessness, the slave females watching with disgust mingled with a strange sort of calm. The male above her watched with silent approval a brief moment, then moved two paces to stand above me.

“And here we have the one who should surely have been kept to warm the high ones,” said he, inspecting me slowly and deliberately with his eyes. “What crime have you been found guilty of, wench? For what reason have you been brought here?”

“I know naught of this thing you term crime,” I replied with as much of a shrug as my bound arms allowed. “I am here due to the number of males who faced me. Had there been fewer of them, or had they not come at me from behind, I would surely have won free.”

“What nonsense do you speak, slave?” frowned the male, folding his arms. “No man or wench is sent here save that they are condemned for a crime against the city, for there is no return from these precincts. Who brought you here, that you consider yourself unjustly served?”

“She was brought here by members of the personal guard of the lady Ladayna,” spoke up one of the slave females, an eagerness in her tone. “I recalled them from having seen them about the temple during my service there.”

“So that was your crime,” said the male with a slow nod, his dark eyes unmoving from me. “Offending the high lady is a crime most wenches take care to refrain from, yet would the very sight of you be an offense to her. You were condemned and lost the first moment you came to her attention, wench.”

“The spear has not been cast for the final time,” said I, my hands fists below the leather which bound them. “As long as life remains to me, I shall continue to look forward to the fey my sword finds her throat. The fey that will surely come.”

“I fear you delude yourself, girl,” said the male, unfolding his arms and bending to the collar about my throat. “None of the condemned who enter here are ever permitted to leave again, not with the breath of life remaining in them. Were you male and able to compete in the trials, your life would be prolonged by the skill of your arm, yet even then no more than life might be won. Freedom is now permanently beyond your reach, as it is beyond the reach of those others within. Best you reconcile yourself to the fact, and strive to serve your masters well. Only through our approval will you find some bit of ease and comfort in your slavery.

He threw the collar from me and pulled me to my feet by an arm, and I felt a constriction within me that the leather would be left upon my wrists. With wrists bound, I had little hope of attempting escape before being taken through the doorway, yet were my fears unfounded. The collared males had been taken within unbound, therefore was I also turned with my back to the male, my hair thrown aside, and the leather touched by his hands.

“She is larger than any female I have ever seen,” said the second male, coming close to look down upon me as the first worked at my wrists. “She will have the strength to serve many of us before she must be allowed to rest.”

“Do not clench your fists so,” said the first male to me, his voice distracted. “This leather is not as tight as it might have been, yet are the ends knotted. Had I brought a blade with me ....”

His voice trailed off as his efforts continued, and though I found it difficult, I forced the anger from my hands and arms. I had no wish to cause the male to abandon his efforts, yet the words of the second had rekindled the fury I had earlier felt. Large enough to serve many, indeed! Much would I have enjoyed serving them with sharpened metal, yet not so much as serving them with my absence.

Had the doing taken much longer, surely would the male have left the leather to be parted by a blade edge within the doorway. A muttered curse came to speak of the frustration he felt, building the anxiety within me, yet a moment later came an “Ah!” of satisfaction achieved, followed immediately by the leather falling away from my wrists. I quickly moved my arms before me to rub at my wrists, and the male, too, came from behind me.

“Now we may take them within,” said he to the second, coiling the leather he held. “A bit of a taste, perhaps, and then we may return to coaxing skill from our nestlings. Should they be sent to face the victors as they are, they will make longer acquaintance with the abyss than with the trials.”

“They will most of them make the acquaintance of the abyss,” said the second, stepping backward and turning to gesture at the slave females, who had not stirred from their places despite their having been uncollared. “It merely remains to be seen how long they will keep themselves from it.”

The first male grunted agreement with the second, then walked forward toward the female who had come there free. She lay upon the floor of the cavern in seeming exhaustion, at last beyond the spasms which had emptied her, her slight form holding the attention of the first male as the two slaves held the attention of the second. That I caused as little concern within the two males as did the other females pleased me, for that very unconcern would be their undoing.

The cavern floor contained fewer stones than had the wider area beyond it, yet was it necessary that I do no more than bend to find two to my liking. I straightened again with the stones in my hands and moved immediately toward the cavern entrance, willing to grant the males safety from harm so long as they granted me the same. They, however, whirled as quickly as I had thought they might, and started toward me with annoyance clear upon them; had I allowed them to continue as they had begun, they would surely have had me before I was able to reach the entrance.

In one motion I turned and threw the two stones I held, the second following immediately after the first, both flying true toward the faces of the males. It would have been foolish to pause and survey what damage I caused, therefore did I turn and race toward the entrance again, hearing a shout and a curse before I had passed through. At least one of the males had been struck, a matter of small surprise to one who had so often won at the stone-throwing game played by warriors-to-be. Had I not been bound so long and so tightly, surely would I have expected both stones to find their mark.

Once without the cavern, I ran no farther than a double hand of strides before halting with a curse. No torches burned in the darkness I stood wrapped in, therefore was I at a loss to find the area with large boulders which I had planned on losing myself among. So deep was the darkness that even the trail I stood upon was lost to all senses save the bottoms of my feet. I had regained the freedom to go where I would, yet was I unable to see where that freedom would take me.

I moved a bit farther into the darkness, then turned at the sound of footsteps some distance behind me. From the entrance to the cavern came two large forms, breaking the feeble glow of torches as they passed through into the darkness, the sound of their leather foot coverings ceasing as they halted where the glow did not outline them. Neither of the two had seemed badly injured, and then the sound of their steps came again, this time toward me. Silently calling down the wrath of Mida upon them, I began again to move farther into the darkness.

The dark and stillness was flat and empty, holding me in the cool of its clasp, urging me to move more and more slowly. I continued on with what speed I could manage, sinking into unseen patches of sand, stumbling upon stones and pebbles, keeping my arms stretched out wide before me. Each time I looked back to take a bearing upon the light from the cavern the light was less, and then I turned to see that it was gone entirely. Had I merely passed from it with distance I would not have been disturbed, yet did my hearing tell me that footsteps approached with greater rapidity. The males came toward me with a speed I found incredible, blocking what light there was as they neared. I turned again into the darkness, this time toward my left, and broke into a slow, hesitant run.

As unbelievable as it seemed, the sound of males in pursuit continued behind me following rather than ranging on in the direction I had turned from. Though I moved as silently as a light breeze across a plains, still were the males able to follow me! Were they able to see in what was to my eyes total darkness? Were they able to see me as I groped my way through the unfamiliar, unknown terrain? Did they laugh softly as they closed with me ridiculing my feeble attempts at escape? Anger took me then, adding to the wildly raging frustration I had been gripped by, sending me hurtling even faster into the nothingness—till I tripped upon the half-buried boulder and went flying and sprawling across dark, clinging sand.

Surely was the darkness filled for me then with bright spots of light, twirling and jumping all about as I lay belly down in the sand. Well did I know that I must be up and off again before those behind me came even nearer, yet was I able to do no more than rise to my hands and knees before those in pursuit arrived. Big hands wrapped themselves about my arms after an instant of groping touches, and then was I pulled to my feet and held there.

“If you continue to struggle so, I will tie you in your own hair,” came the voice of the first male, no sign of breathlessness upon him. “I have no pity for slave wenches who attempt to run off, and less for those who make it necessary for me to hie after them. Your punishment will be keen once we have you within the doorway.”

“Given by me,” came the voice of the second, his hand tightening about my left arm. “Were you not female, I would surely set you to training at throwing daggers, for few of the dross sent us have so excellent an eye. Yet you are indisputably female, and therefore barred from the trials where death would put an end to your use. It is punishment alone which you face, wench—if we are able to find our way back to the entrance cavern. ”

“A thing more easily decided than done,” muttered the first, stirring to my right as though he searched the darkness. “Now that we have her, we must attempt to find the direction from whence we came.”

“If you cannot see in this blackness, how is it you were able to pursue me so easily?” I demanded, more furious with myself than with them. A war leader of the Hosta, to trip and fall like the veriest child!

“Moderate your tone, slave,” growled the second male, again tightening his grip. “We are to be addressed as ‘master’ when you speak to us, and then only when you have been commanded to speak. As you have not been so commanded, you will remain silent. Let us attempt to retrace our steps, brother, and see if we might catch a glimpse of the cavern.”

The first male grunted, evidently an often-used manner of indicating agreement, and the two moved off, forcing me with them. The care they used as they stepped forward showed that the darkness held them as closely as it held me, and this I could not understand. If they could not see, how had they been able to follow me? The question vexed me as I stumbled along between the two, yet no solution was forthcoming. What appeared instead, after perhaps two dozen steps, was a faint glow off to our right, the sight of which caused the males to chuckle.

“Sigurr protects his own in the darkness which is his,” said the first male, his tone openly relieved. “I would not care to join the spirits of those foolish enough to send themselves into this eternal blackness in search of escape. A swift swordthrust would be considerably more merciful.”

“As any save this witless female knows,” grumbled the second male, stumbling somewhat over an unseen obstacle. “To rush out into the blackness which none have emerged from alone as though it were the entrance to Sigurr’s Blessed Realm!”

“In a manner of speaking, it is exactly that,” chuckled the first male. “Not so much to the Blessed Realm as to its deep caverns, yet still a road to Sigurr’s Domain. And if we are to consider the wench witless for nearly losing herself in the darkness, what are we to consider ourselves for having followed her?”

“Men with unthinned blood,” snorted the second before chuckling took him as well. “There are few enough slave wenches to see to our needs, and those the least which might be sent. To have one such as she for use was worth the small risk taken, especially as she could not have escaped us. Had we become lost, we would simply have awaited the search party which would be sent, amusing ourselves the while with our quarry. She, having run, was witless; we, having followed, were not.”

“An excellent summation,” laughed the first. “I agree completely, and will not mention my own point again. Most especially as we have no need to await a search party.”

The two shared their laughter as they took me along between them, disallowing me further opportunity for escape. Though they considered it witless to once more enter the darkness, I would have done so immediately had I been able to free myself. It had been my intention to prowl about the vicinity of the boulders, awaiting the next group to bring a male or female for the collars and then follow them and their torches when they departed. The plan would have done well taking me from the darkness and returning me to where Ladayna might be found, yet was I taken in another direction, to the cavern, and with the other females, within the doorway of metal. Once within, the two males released me, yet only to close and bar the door behind us. I was now within the place which caused the other females to tremble and moan again, and there was naught I might do for it.

The inner cavern was well lit by torches, and well-filled also with a strong, odd odor. I had detected the same odor in the outer caverns, considerably fainter, and had not known what it might be. Now, as I leaned one shoulder upon the black stone of the wall, I could not find any curiosity within me over the matter. Twice had freedom been put into my hands, and twice had I managed to make naught of the opportunity. Ancient lore spoke of one being given three opportunities for success before one was forever condemned, yet which of the gods would have the patience to offer a third chance for freedom to one who had already thrown away two? This time my captivity would not be brief, nor would I find Mida awaiting me with smiles at the end of it. Were escape from that place possible, the finding of the third opportunity would be my task alone.

I looked up at the sound of footsteps, and saw four white-clad males making their way toward the metal door. The area before the door was wide enough for all four to stand abreast, yet the corridor of rough stone leading from it became so quickly narrow that there was not room enough for two to walk or stand so. In single file then, the males came toward us, and suddenly the first male halted with an incredulous laugh.

“Chaldrin, what has happened to your eye?” the male demanded, staring agrin toward the two who yet stood by the door. “Has a true champion been left for us in a collar? Never, in all the kalod I have been here, has a nestling found it possible to reach you, and now . . . . ”

“Silence, fool,” came the growl of he who was the second male, he who was thicker in the middle and who wore bands of leather about his wrists. “The one who reached me was not you, yet am I of a mind to offer you the opportunity to do the same. Do you care to face me in the exercise cages?”

“Not I, Chaldrin!” laughed the male, his hands held high before him, palms toward the other. “I have already faced you, and learned then that I am no match for you. And yet I would still know how you came by so livid an injury. The one who gave it you will surely be a victor in the trials.”

“The one who gave it to me will not even enter the trials,” said the male, and then he was beside me, his fist in my hair pulling my head back so that I must look up at him. I had known that one of the stones I had hurled had struck its mark, and now was I able to see the results of that throw. The left eye of the male was livid with color, bruised and puffed and swollen half shut. “The one who did me this way will simply be punished for the doing,” said the male, “for she is a wench and a slave, and threw more with Sigurr’s aid than with skill. Had I thought her capable of skill, I would not have grown lax in her presence.”

“Jalav is no slave,” said I, dismissing the pain of his grip as I met the steadiness of his gaze. “There was skill aplenty in the throw, male, and more to be found beside. Offer to me that which you offered to that other, and you will not be refused. Never have I been bested with blades.”

“So, you are skilled with a sword, are you?” said he, this male called Chaldrin who looked down upon me with no more than a single eye. “And yet, the trials are filled with more than sword use. To survive, a man must be skilled in dagger throwing and spear fighting as well as sword use—and to reach the first weapon, he must be capable of besting his opponents with bare hands. Force me to release you, wench, stand free of my hold, and then I will face you with weapons.”

The male made no attempt to tighten his grip; he did no more than stand as he had been, honoring the offer he had made in words. Though I felt vast surprise that such an offer would be forthcoming, I nevertheless attempted to free myself, using the desperation of my need for a sword as a spur to my strength. The pain I felt pulling at his grip added to my anger, yet even raining blows and kicks upon him failed to free me. The male was like the stone of the walls and floor, unmoving and unfeeling even when struck. I continued beating at him a short while and then ceased in disgust, understanding that his offer of freedom had been no such thing. It was not possible to free myself from his grip, and I had been a fool to believe otherwise. As soon as I had ceased completely, the male forced me to my knees and bent me well backward, then crouched beside me.

“Your efforts were worthy of a child of no more than three kalod,” said he, his tone even despite the biting of his words. “You have some small concept of the use of body weight, yet not nearly enough to accomplish a movement worthy of note. I had no need to defend myself from you, for you failed to threaten me seriously even a single time. You ignored the pain given you rather than attempting to end it, making no effort to gain greater freedom prior to attacking. You are a helpless little slave wench, filled with unjustified pride.”

“Should I ever find a blade in my hand,” I gasped, aching from the position in which he held me, “you will find that my pride is well justified, male. You now find yourself free to do with me as you wish; come the fey, I shall then do with you as I wish!”

“Spirited,” said another male voice, that of the first, as he came to look down upon me. “Few of our nestlings are that eager to face you again after having been bested by you, Chaldrin. ”

“Spirited is not enough,” returned the second male, continuing to hold my gaze. “A nestling must earn the privilege of facing me with more than his hands. This one lacks the ability to learn what must be learned, and is female to boot. She will never earn the privilege of facing me. Let us be about our business, Treglin. ”

The first male signaled his agreement with a grunt, and I was pulled to my feet by the male Chaldrin. So filled with fury was I that I again attempted to escape his grip, yet to no avail. The male forced me ahead of him up the corridor of stone, past the grinning males who had so recently arrived, to the end of the corridor which then turned right. This second corridor was shorter than the first, boasting two further white-clad males at its end. Beyond the males was a small, wider area of stone, a second short corridor with two males at its end, and then a broad area at last, a chamber with furs and platforms and seats and a number of doorways. Within this chamber were more than a hand of males, some taking drink or feeding, some doing no more than taking their ease. Two slave females knelt by one wall, an unclad, kneeling male beside them, laughter touching only those in white. At sight of us, the white-clad ones rose to their feet and came quickly forward, their voices raised in a babble of exclamation.

“Hold!” called Chaldrin, halting me as he, himself, halted. “What do you all do here at this time of the fey, squawking about like so many lellin? Why are you not about your tasks?”

“We heard there were females,” said one of the males, shame-faced yet speaking for them all. “We have set the new slavies about their chores, and chained the blasphemer for whipping; now do we await sight of the females. Is this truly one of them? Are the others as compelling as she? Are they truly for the use of all?”

“The others, as you are now able to see, are here,” said Chaldrin, stepping aside to allow the one called Treglin to herd the three frightened females within the chamber. “They are not of the same cut as this one, yet are they all, as ever, for the use of all. This one will bear her share of use, no less—and no more. To waste her would be utmost folly, yet is she soon to be punished. Those who have completed what tasks they have may assist in her punishment.”

“For what reason do those three kneel at the wall of judgment?” asked the male Treglin, looking upon the male and two females. The babble had begun to grow again among the white-clad males, yet did the question silence it.

“An accusation has been made by one of the females,” replied the same male who had spoken earlier, turning to look upon the three. “The slave wench insists that the slavey attempted to use her, and brings the other wench forward as one who was used by him before his attempt upon her. We have set them there so that you may hear the accusations and hand down a decision.”

“We will do so now,” said Treglin, gesturing Chaldrin to him. The male took me forward with him to one of two seats, pushed me to the rock floor at his feet, then sat as Treglin sat beside him. I attempted to rise again, yet the male had put one great foot upon the mass of my hair, holding me as he had placed me. I snarled in fury at such treatment, yet the males ignored my anger and gave their attention to those who knelt at the wall.

“Which of you wenches first accuses this slavey?” said Treglin, settling back in his seat. The two females started nervously, then she who knelt in the center rose to her feet.

“I accuse him, master,” said the female, her voice sharp and thin. She seemed taller than many other Sigurri females I had seen, tall and thin and stiff in her carriage. Light-haired was the female, as was the other, and clad in the same pale-red cloth from waist to ankles. “It was in a storage chamber where he attempted to use me,” said she, “yet I escaped from him. My dear friend was not as fortunate. ”

“It is true, master,” said the other from where she knelt, her voice trembling. This one appeared smaller than the first, her pale hair somewhat longer than that of the other, her features softer. “The slavey took me despite the rules to the contrary,” said she, “and I too frightened to speak of it. When my dear sister told me of her own narrow escape, we resolved to speak of it together. ”

“I see,” said Treglin, his tone contemplative. “And you, slavey. What have you to say concerning these accusations?”

“I am innocent, master,” whispered the kneeling male, his eyes unmoving from the stone of the floor before him. “I cannot deny thoughts of desire, yet am I innocent of such attempts. I have not had a woman since the fey I was condemned. ”

“Um,” muttered Treglin, his hand to his face. The slave male appeared totally without hope, as though guilt had already been pronounced his. A moment of silence passed, and then did Chaldrin stir behind me.

“Rise to your feet, slave,” said he, speaking to the male. The slave looked up in surprise and, when no further commands were forthcoming, rose quickly to his feet. A brief silence ensued, and then Treglin glanced toward Chaldrin.

“I believe I see your point,” said he to the second male. “You are undoubtedly correct in your assumption. Would you care to continue?”

“Only if we may settle the matter quickly,” said Chaldrin. “There are tasks of greater consequence awaiting us both. Turn about and face the slave you accuse, wench.”

The male had addressed the standing female, and after a brief hesitation during which a flicker of suspicion crossed her face, the female turned to face the now standing male slave. The two were no more than a single pace apart, and it was immediately clear that though the male’s body was thin and not as well muscled as it might be, the female was not of a size with him. The male was both broader and taller than the female, even with rounded shoulders and bowed head.

“You now look upon the man you claim to have escaped from, slave,” said Chaldrin, his voice uncompromising. “Explain to us in what manner he attempted you, that you were able to avoid his use.”

The slave female stood stiffly in silence, staring upon the frown the male before her had grown. It had come to the male that those who listened to the accusation of the female did not necessarily believe the matter as truth. The silence continued another moment, and then the female’s head jerked about.

“He awaited me in hiding in the storage chamber,” she rasped, smoothing the fists her hands had become. “I was surprised when he appeared before me and stretched a hand out, yet was I able to turn and run from him.”

“Indeed,” said Chaldrin, his voice continuing unmoved. “What was done once may be done again. Run, slave!”

Shock touched the features of the female, yet did she turn immediately and attempt to run from the slave male. He, however, had risen far from the depths of hopelessness and despair, and moved as quickly as did she. Within three or four strides were his hands upon her arms, halting her roughly before she might reach a door leading from the chamber.

“And the storage chamber is more than twice the size of this one,” said Chaldrin as the female was pulled about and thrust back toward him. “Was the slavey fool enough to attempt you before you entered the doorway?”

“Yes!” shouted the female, standing at bay, her eyes wild. “He attempted me and I escaped him!”

“For what reason does this slave accuse you?” said Chaldrin to the male, who no longer stood with head down. “Did she attempt to raise interest in you and fail? Did you express distaste for her in her hearing?”

“Neither, master,” said the male, looking upon the female with disgust. “No slavey would refuse the use of any female if it were offered to him. This one attempted to silence me, to discredit that which I would say of her.”

“He lies!” shrieked the female, throwing herself to the stone of the floor not far from me. “He attempted me and now seeks to escape punishment! I have done nothing! Nothing!”

Chaldrin shifted about behind me, undoubtedly looking upon the second slave female where she knelt by the wall. This second female had gone pale and trembling, and now bent forward with head toward knees.

“Speak of the nothing this female has done,” said he to the slave male, his voice far colder than it had been. “A nothing Treglin or I should undoubtedly have been informed of considerably sooner.”

“Master, I did not know of it sooner!” pleaded the slave male, again falling to his knees. “Nor did I know that the doing was against your laws! I merely came upon the two of them by happenstance. Before I might consider reporting what I had seen, I found myself accused!”

“Speak of what you saw, slave!” snapped Treglin, annoyed. “There are other things to be done this fey!”

“The two females lay together!” quavered the male, again beaten down. “As though they were man and woman! Never before have I seen such a thing, therefore was I at a loss as to what to do! I beg you not to punish me!”

“There will be no punishment,” growled Chaldrin into the sudden silence. “Return to your work and do not bring yourself to our attention again.”

“Yes, master!” babbled the male, tottering to his feet and backing quickly from the chamber. “Thank you, master! At once, master!”

Once without the male turned and ran from sight, to the left of the chamber door. The silence which had fallen was broken only by the near-soundless sobbing of the slave female by the wall; the other, near to me, merely knelt where she had thrown herself, her head down her arms wrapped about her thin body. After a long moment, Treglin stirred and then stood.

“You, girl, look at me,” said he to the sobbing female, she who knelt by the wall. Her head raised slowly, the despair of the slave male now filling her, misery clear in her eyes. “For what reason did you lie with this slave?” he asked, his tone uninflected and unaccusing. “Were you forced to the act by word or deed?”

“No, master,” she whispered, her voice nearly choked to naught. “I was no longer able to bear the burden without comfort, a comfort unknown in this place. My sister offered that comfort, and I accepted. Am I now to be slain?”

“The females in this domain are too few in number for one to be slain for such a reason,” said Treglin with a sigh. “Return to your work now, and we will speak further of this at another time.”

The female hesitated, more disturbed than relieved, then rose to her feet and ran lightly from the chamber. It seemed from the set of her shoulders that she wished to look back, yet did she disappear from view without doing so.

“Good fortune smiles upon you, wench,” Treglin then said to the remaining female, she who continued to kneel with head down. “The reason for your having been sent here is now clear, though there were suspicions of it sooner. Your private preferences may be your own affair, yet only insofar as the tasks assigned to you and those about you are unaffected. We are none of us free here, yet some are more slave than others, and you are one such. Had you in any manner coerced that wench, your life would have been forfeit. Walk softly, slave, and do not forget what you have been told.”

“Yes, master,” whispered the female, her eyes remaining down even as she rose to her feet and ran from the chamber. Those remaining within stirred and drew breaths, yet I had no true understanding of that which had occurred. What had the female done such that Treglin had spoken of her life as having been in danger of being forfeit?

“And now we may get on with what we were about when we entered,” said Chaldrin, rising from the seat and removing his foot from my hair. “You will see to having the two females beaten, Treglin? We cannot permit lies and false accusations to go unpunished, else there will be no peace for us.”

“I will see to the beatings,” agreed Treglin, watching as I rose quickly to my feet and shook some of the ever-present sand from my hair. “As you are to concern yourself with this one, I will also see to the disposition of the other new wenches.”

“Excellent,” said Chaldrin with a nod, and then was his hand wrapped about my left wrist. The male stood quietly observing as I attempted to pull free, then shook his head in disgust at my failure. “Totally inept,” said he in a mutter, then did he turn and stride from the chamber, taking me with him. An odd fury had risen in me at his scorn, yet was I as helpless as I had been to revenge myself. None of the males had worn a sword which might have been taken as my own, and barehanded a warrior was no match for them.

Without the chamber was a long corridor leading right, which took one to a wide, torch-lit area with many doorways and many slaves to be seen. The male slaves far outnumbered the females, and none did more than pass through the area without pausing. Some carried various items, cloth, sacks, wood, and the like, and some were empty-handed, yet all hurried as a matter of course, increasing their pace even further when the gaze of a white-clad male fell upon them. Chaldrin strode to the third doorway to the right and entered it, taking me into a half-corridor which passed four empty chambers of moderate size, undecorated and undoored. The fifth chamber, also undoored, stood at the end of the corridor and was not as empty as the others had appeared. Once I had been taken within, I was able to see ropes suspended from the stone ceiling, chains set into the floor and walls, wood-braced wooden punishment forms of the sort the female Cynena had been bent over in Mehrayn’s house, a low pile of thick furs—and various whips hung upon the wall to the right of the doorway. It braced me somewhat to see that no lash hung among them, yet were those items which did appear scarcely constructed to give pleasure.

“This is the punishment room for female slaves,” said Chaldrin, moving to the center of the chamber before halting. “Stubbornness, pride, and false beliefs are all left here to fade and die upon the stone of the floor, leaving naught behind save obedient female slaves. You, too, will be taught your proper condition here, a lesson which will aid you in surviving in our domain. If you are wise, you will heed that lesson.”

“Wisdom is seldom looked upon the same by any of those who claim to know it best.” I shrugged, meeting the calm of his dark gaze. “Jalav is no slave, nor shall she ever be. She will survive your domain continuing in her own beliefs, and escape her captivity in the same manner.”

“Bravely spoken—by one who has not yet faced the punishment for disobedience and attempted escape,” said he, his calm undisturbed. “I will see you punished more and more sternly each time it becomes necessary, this time being the least for you are newly come here. The next time I have you under the whip, I will not be as lenient.”

With such words did he then turn and look about him, considering each of the devices at his disposal. His gaze rested upon the leather ceiling rope suspended not far from us, appearing to contemplate the possibility, yet did he shake his head slightly before turning to the wooden form.

“To suspend one such as you would be to allow too great a sense of dignity to be kept,” said he, speaking almost to himself as he pulled me nearer to the form. “You must be punished with as much humiliation as possible, to give you further reason for avoiding repetitions. That you are able to withstand a great deal of pain was clear from the first; we will see how you fare with deep shaming.”

Though I again attempted struggle, I could not prevent the male from placing me as Cynena had been placed, belly down over the top wooden bar, my wrists clasped in unyielding leather, the same holding my ankles. Fury set me to pulling madly at the leather, the humiliation the male had spoken of sharper than I had thought it would be, yet all that was accomplished was the resettling of my hair, which had been thrown forward along with the upper half of my body.

“This whip will be the best for you,” said the male from my left, taking down one from the wall which seemed to have many leather blades. “It imparts a true sense of having been punished, yet does it do no more than leave the skin of the wench brighter than her hip wrap. No blood will be drawn from you, girl, therefore will you have naught to feed your pride upon.”

He approached with the whip and stood to my left, shaking out its leather blades as I twisted upon the form I had been tied over, attempting to pull loose. The top bar of the wooden form was hard in my belly, my hair surrounded my face and fell to the stone of the floor, my wrists and ankles were held close by the leather, none of which aided me in freeing myself. I pulled and struggled—and then the first stroke reached me, assaulting my ears with a sharp crack! even as the leather struck at my back. My head came up at the deep sting of the blow, yet was it light when compared with the touch of the lash. After the first instant the sting grew to heat and greater pain, and then the second blow came, enhancing the first and beginning its own path in my flesh. The third and fourth came at similar intervals, calm and unhurried yet timed to bring a maximum amount of anguish. The male knew what he was about with the whip, and my struggles took on a new tone.

“What, still no screams and beggings to be released?” mocked Chaldrin, well aware of what hurt he had given. “Your silence tempts me to strike harder, wench, in an effort to give proper punishment. Bravery is not always the best and wisest course of action. ”

He immediately swung the whip again, allowing no opportunity for reply even had I wished to make one. Again the question of wisdom had come forth, and even as the pain resumed and mounted, I could not see the wisdom in abandoning my stand. Pain is much the easier to bear in silence, not to speak of less damaging to the pride. It was a lesson I had learned many kalod ago, and one I was not prepared to abandon.

Before the thing was done, all of the back of me had felt the touch of the whip. I ached and burned from neck to ankles, filled with humiliation as well as with pain. The accursed male had beaten me all about, and then had he announced that he would then punish me for having thrown the stone which had struck him in the eye. The blades of the whip gently moved over my bottom the once, and then was its touch no longer gentle. Again and again was I struck, with greater strength than previous, till I truly wished to scream out my fury and pain. As he struck, the male chided me with stern comments of, “Bad girl!” and “Naughty child!” and “Disobedient little wench!” till I pulled furiously at the wrist leather and threw myself about in a frenzy of rage. It was ever so with a male, to punish with humiliation rather than demand the right of challenge. The beating continued a short while longer, yet silent tears of frustration had already come to my eyes.

The male replaced the whip upon the wall before coming to free me of the leather. Once free, I raised myself painfully from the form, finding that movement added its own throb to the beating. There was indeed little in the situation for pride to feed upon, for the beating I had withstood in silence had not been a warrior’s beating. I had been done as a miserable, lowly slave, punished by one who was free, struck even on the bottoms of my feet in consequence of my having run. The cool, uneven stone of the floor broke roughly through the burning ache of my soles, making me shift from foot to foot, and finally sending me off balance. I would surely have fallen, had Chaldrin not suddenly grasped my arm.

“Having the bottoms of one’s feet beaten is worse with a heavy reed switch,” said he as he took me to the right of the wooden form, toward a wide fur he had placed at the foot of the wall opposite to that of the whips. “The men here are subject to such a punishment, slaves and nestlings and trial survivors alike. It does well in teaching them the consequences of attempted escape. Give thanks that you are female, and not to be so harshly treated.”

The comment might perhaps have evoked bitter amusement within me, had it not felt as though I walked upon broken twigs and sharp stones. For those like Chaldrin and the others, who habitually wore leather foot coverings, the punishment would undoubtedly be much sharper. With uneven and painful tread then was I taken to the spread fur, thrust down upon it, and immediately put within the metal collar which depended from the chain let into the wall above the fur. Wide was the collar, and of a tightness to make itself fully known to the wearer, the sort to make me snarl and pull at the chain—had I not been aching so.

“The wenches in this domain are commonly used carefully, so as not to overuse them,” said Chaldrin, rising to his feet and undoubtedly looking down at me where I lay upon my side on the fur with eyes closed. I had been in greater pain on other occasions, yet the beating Chaldrin had given was not one to give him shame for the effort. I would have found much joy in spilling his blood, yet even had I been set free upon the moment, I could not have properly wielded a sword to insure victory.

“Under normal circumstances,” continued the male, “there will be a set number of men for you to serve, the exact number depending upon the number of females available. When you earn punishment, however, the limits upon your service are removed, and you may be used by any man who completes his work in time to do you so. This, of course, does not include slavies, who are allowed no females, nor nestlings nor trial survivors who must earn the use of a wench. Should one of these attempt you without permission, you are to inform Treglin or myself, or one of our men.”

“And who may I inform if you and your males attempt me?” I asked, greatly aware of the throbbing red behind my closed lids. “Is it Sigurr himself I must then speak to?”

My words had been filled with bitterness and irony, for surely the dark god would do no more than approve the efforts of these males of his. Rather than make immediate answer Chaldrin was silent for a moment, and then the bitterness entered his own voice.

“That this domain is Sigurr’s is true,” said he, “and yet is it far different from the city above it. Those who dwell above us are privileged to worship Sigurr as the great god demands; those who dwell in this domain have been turned from by Sigurr, and forever denied his worship. Call to him if you wish, wench, yet he will not heed you any more than he heeds the rest of us. Truly doomed are those of us in these caverns, and most grown used to it. ”

The oddness of his words brought a frown to me and reopened my eyes, yet the sight of Chaldrin halted any words I might have spoken. The male had removed the white covering from about his loins, and was then kneeling to join me upon the fur. Never before had there been an attempt to use me after I had been beaten so, except by the male Nolthis, who had found his own pleasure only in the absence of mine. Were Chaldrin one such as that, his pleasure would be full; were he not, he would drink deep of the cup of frustration, which I had so often drained of late.

“Your eyes discount my presence,” remarked the male, settling himself beside me. “A wench fresh from a whipping should be anxious to please he who gave her that whipping—lest he decide to give her another.”

“A warrior fresh from a beating is too greatly concerned with thoughts of vengeance to be taken by anxiety, male,” said I, lying unmoving upon my right side. “You are now free to do with me as you will, yet the situation shall not continue so forever.”

“The situation has no choice save to continue so forever,” said he, putting his hand to my face. “We will none of us ever leave this domain with life remaining in our bodies, and you had best accustom yourself to that truth. To believe otherwise leads to insanity.”

The sobriety of the male disturbed me, for I had surely expected him to fall to anger. That no anger had built within him meant there was none to overcome as he bent toward me, raising my face for his lips. As I could not easily struggle, I merely gave him no response, a thing he refused to accept. His hand came to my body despite my sudden attempt to halt him, and to my shock immediately succeeded in beginning to raise my heat. With the pain so clearly present I had not thought it possible, and the male chuckled at the expression he saw upon me.

“All wenches are eager to serve those whom they recognize as their masters,” said he, bringing forth the gasp I had not wished freed. “Your body will give me the pleasure I demand, to save itself from further pain at my hands. A wench’s body is often wiser than her will. ”

I snarled an oath on the subject of wisdom, yet was the attempt at defiance fruitless. The male, holding to my collar chain, forced me to squirm and writhe as he willed, his hands and tongue firing me as deeply as his whip had reddened my flesh. When I was put to my belly in the furs and my thighs were spread, I was already sunk so deep in the pit of need that I welcomed the humiliating posture.

“Never have I seen so hot a slave,” murmured Chaldrin where he knelt between my knees, his hands below my thighs raising me higher. “My flesh finds no need to penetrate yours, for I am eagerly taken within the moment I approach you. And the heat within! Attempt to deny me, slave, attempt to keep me from my pleasure.”

The taunting of the male stung me, yet when his hands circled me to touch my breasts, I could no more deny them than his presence within me. With a laugh he began to use me, and easily was I as well used as I had been well whipped. The male knew what he was about in both areas, and rage though I might in my innermost thoughts, my body rejoiced in the pleasure given me. That more was taken than given mattered little, for what was given was enough to please a warrior’s soul. When, after a long while, the need had passed from the male, he touched my breasts one last time and withdrew.

“More than acceptable,” said he as he rose to his feet, his voice heavy with satisfaction. “I had never thought to have one such as you again, and yet you were sent to my domain and are now a part of it. When I put you up as prize, the nestlings and victors will outdo themselves to win you.”

“Prize?” I echoed, twisting gently about to look up at him.

The heaviness of great need fulfilled had entered my mind, and I understood little of what he said.

“My fighters and would-be fighters do contest in the trials,” said he, retrieving his white body cloth and beginning to don it. “In the trials they contest for life, yet there must be other prizes to lure them to effort after a time. I often tie a slave wench to the prize post in the practice area, allowing my fighters to see what it is they contest for. The ploy is even more effective than angering them. When you are done with your punishment, I will have one of the other slave females show you your duties.”

With body cloth in place, he knelt briefly to put his lips to mine one final time, then did he rise again and quit the chamber. It had not disturbed him that he had found it necessary to put his fist in my hair before he might take my lips, no more than my evident displeasure had disturbed him. It was not my intention to be put up as prize for males, yet Chaldrin cared little for my intentions. It was his intentions which prevailed, proclaimed by the metal collar closed about my throat. I struck the soft fur I lay upon with a fist, grasped the collar chain near the wall in both hands and pulled hard despite the pain, then slowly sank down to my side again. Despair is ever an enemy to the purposes of a warrior, yet are there times when it may not be denied. I required a weapon, and the strength and lack of pain to wield it, yet I knew not where these were to come from. I lay unmoving upon the fur, battling despair, yet knew not where the answer to my needs was to come from.