The Crystals of Mida

11 Shaming by a male—and a life is saved

I awakened to find myself locked by the ankle to Ceralt’s belt. Too distant had I been from the post, therefore the hunter secured me in such a manner. He and Telion awakened then as well, released the metal from my ankle, and offered me a portion of the meat. I accepted it from Telion, wishing none of it, yet knowing that I must feed to regain my strength. Happily, the portion given me had escaped much of the overeager fire of those who had cooked it, and was far more edible than the meat I had previously been offered. After having swallowed from the water skin, I angered Telion by refusing to allow a cloth to be put upon the tracks of the dagger. Midanna only bind a freely bleeding wound, for how may Mida aid in its healing, should it be kept from her sight? The marks were small, only slightly to be seen now, and I wished them to heal quickly so that I might feel them as little as I saw them. Telion strode away with the cloth in resignation, and once more I was led through the forest behind Ceralt’s kan.

Ceralt had spoken no word to me, though he had words with Telion. Telion, having seen my pain and weakness of the darkness, had wished me to ride that fey, but Ceralt refused to hear of it. Jalav was merely a captive, he insisted, and captives were not to ride. Telion argued somewhat, then he capitulated in disgust, saying he, himself, would not hold the collar leather. Ceralt was then forced to take the leather, which he did without looking upon me. My wrists were again held before me in metal, and I followed without comment, for little else had I expected of the hunter Ceralt.

Fayan, this fey, rode behind Nidisar, and in misery refused to meet my eyes. She and Nidisar had been told by Telion of what had befallen me in the darkness, and Nidisar had been enraged that I had not called to him, he being so near. For long did he storm about and shout at me, yet had Fayan been reduced to deep shame. Her war leader, bound and helpless, had been in need of her, and she had lain all unknowing, but paces from the incident, sporting about with a male. She wore only the collar leather, and when Nidisar had called her to his kan, she had not wished to go. He, however, had refused to accept her refusal, and had swung her to the kan behind him. Then had she placed her arms about him in misery and clung to him, unspeaking yet feeling her shame. I still had no understanding of her actions; however I would wait to hear her explanation before condemning her.

For two feyd I was led about by Ceralt, and not merely upon the trail. He took to leading me about at every halt of the set, most often to the conveyance of the city females. There would the females, from the safety of their conveyance, laugh and call me slave on a leash, plaything of men. Although I felt much anger toward them, I ignored their chant so that I might search for a glimpse of the ones who had been in the Tower of the Crystal. Many males were about, and they looked upon me, but the three that I sought were not to be seen. Ceralt found great amusement among the females, most especially with the one called Halia, but Telion had ceased attending them. For many hind would there be no sight of him, yet I had the feeling that he was not far. The two males spoke rarely, and merely shared the tent to take their food and rest. Always did Telion see that I fed, as though he felt that Ceralt would not do so. Ceralt made no comment to this, and always did he see that I was secured for the darkness. Neither male attempted use of me, and so it went, in silence, through the darkness and light.

Upon the third fey I decided to search more earnestly for the males who had been to the Tower. That Larid was soon due to return was a great factor, for I would then send her for Gimin and my Hosta, to halt the set I traveled with and free me. Then, then! would the three males be questioned, of the location of the Crystal and of those others who had accompanied them. Their questioning would be short and pleasant to them once they learned their fate, and great care would I take that their fate was exacted in full. Death would not rob them of their pain, not till my warriors had been well avenged!

Also that fey, had Ceralt done much to enrage me. He had again, with the light at its highest, led me before the females, where they sat upon the grass beside their conveyance. He, too, took seat upon the grass, and then pulled me to his lap, to be held in his arms. Much amused were the city females by my struggles, and they clapped their hands and laughed shrilly, urging Ceralt to show them full use of a slave. Ceralt, too, had laughed to begin with, yet with his fist in my hair, and his arm pressing me close to his chest, his amusement left him. His light eyes sobered, and very light did they appear below his dark, unruly hair. Then had his lips come swiftly to mine, the lips of the male who had bested me and shamed me, he who moved to the demands of Mida. Hard as metal was his arm about me, harsh and demanding were his lips on mine. Surely did I wish to struggle further, yet Midas hand must have restrained my struggles, for I did not refuse his lips, nor did I ignore their demands. For many reckid was I held thus, and then did the female Halia cry out in delight.

“Use her now, Ceralt!” urged the female, her hand upon the hunter’s shoulder. “Teach her her place as a slave! Use her as the plaything she is!”

Ceralt turned his head from me, and saw the look upon the female’s face. Overbright and excited were her eyes. She looked upon me with gloating, wishing with every part of her that I be shamed before her eyes.

Ceralt was silent a moment, then quietly did he ask, “Have you then never been bedded, Halia?”

The female flushed further, and quickly did her eyes dart to the hunter. “What has that to do with the matter?” she demanded shrilly. “Use her, Ceralt, use her!”

“You, too, shall soon be used, Halia,” said Ceralt with gentleness, “and her use will not take the place of your own.” Then a grin flashed across his face. “And I would also not care to face your fathers, should I do such a thing before the eyes of innocents. I think it best that we leave now.”

To the accompaniment of long drawn “ohhh’s” from the females, Ceralt pushed me to my feet, then rose himself. The females still laughed as they looked upon me, yet the female Halia sat slumped with head down, her eyes lowered in misery. The puny city female was disturbed in some manner, yet could it not have been important. City females have naught of importance with which to concern themselves. Ceralt reclaimed his kan, and soon were we again on the move. Not again, though, had Ceralt returned his gaze to me.

Much angered was I with Ceralt for treating me so before the females, yet pleased was I, too, with his lack of attention. When we halted for the raising of the tents, I found no eye upon me, therefore did I carefully unknot the leather from my collar and retie it to a branch that hung nearby, then slipped into the woods.

Though my wrists were still bound in metal before me, I gloried in the freedom of the forests. Quite easily could I have continued on in the set’s direction, seeking the sign to be left by Hosta for their sisters. Much did I wish to do so, yet I had been forbidden such by Mida, and, too, Fayan and the males of the Tower still remained. Fayan was of little concern, for Nidisar saw to her constantly; however she was still a sister warrior, and not to be abandoned. The males, however, held me more closely than the metal of an enclosure, for I would not depart and leave their blood unspilled. Sooner would I deny the word of Mida, and before that, would I see my soul unalterably lost.

The leaves of the trees caressed me as I slid by, hidden in their foliage. Armed males had been set about the camp, searching for those who would enter their area unbidden, yet it was simple to bypass them without notice. Some small knowledge of the woods had they, but as those who often pass through, not as they who have dwelt therein. Each of these males did I gaze upon, seeking the three of the Tower, yet each had the look of a stranger, not of those I sought. Armed males, too, directed the efforts of slaves throughout the camp, and these, too, appeared innocent. Well I knew that hunters roamed about for the camp in general, and much did I hope that the males of the Tower were among them. That they should have fled the set and the area was not to be borne.

I circled the camp completely for sign of those I sought, and also for sign that Larid had returned. I found no sign of Larid nor the males, yet another sight was presented me. The clutch of city females stood, surrounded by many males, awaiting the completion of their tents, and one stole away from them to the woods, looking again and again past her shoulder, to be sure that she was unobserved. She halted among the bushes and trees, at the edge of a tiny clearing, and beat at the tree in frustration. Still was the female Halia disturbed, and well might she be disturbed, for the woods were not for those who knew them not. Much sign had I seen of a hunting hadat, that swift and terrible embodiment of my life sign, and there, but three paces from the tiny clearing, could I smell the presence of hadat, near and on the move.

Coolly did I watch the female Halia as she wept against her arm, her misery great over some matter. Sounds came from the direction of the camp, shouts from few and then from many. The shouts roused the female from her weeping, her face turned toward the camp, then did she turn resolutely from the tree as though to move farther into the woods, yet was the sight before her tear-filled eyes one which halted her completely. The hadat had come upon the clearing as she wept, and now it stood, joying in the sight of that which it would seize. The hadat, light red in color, stood swishing its tail, its head at least the height of my shoulder, its short, soft pelt all aquiver with anticipation. Slowly, very slowly, did it move toward the female, its fangs just bared, a croon in its throat. There had been those who thought the hadat tame, those who had been deceived by its croon of capture; however, they had not survived, for the hadat gave no quarter. Only when upon its victim did it scream victory, to declare itself unbeaten and sole possessor of its prize. Soon would it scream so above the female, its claws upon her broken, bloody form.

Then did the female realize what stood before her, her eyes wide, her hand to her mouth, and a single, terror-filled scream erupted from her throat, as though she knew there was little time for more. The shouts of the camp suddenly turned to our direction, and I became disturbed. The hadat, once in possession of its prey, would not again quickly leave it, and those from the camp would surely arrive to slay it. This female, this city woman Halia, would thus be the means by which the embodiment of my life sign would be slain, taken ignominiously by the males of her city. The hadat was woods-wise, and not easily hunted, and should it escape, the set’s hunters would not soon find it again. I then determined that the hadat would not be taken, and swiftly moved toward the clearing where it stood.

The hadat was little more than two paces from the female when I entered the clearing, hearing the rapid approach of those from the camp. The female’s eyes were held fast to the promise of death before her, and the hadat held her gaze with its own. Deliberately then, did I sound the furious hiss of another hadat, raising it quickly to the scream of rage and challenge. The hadat, with the speed of thought, turned with its own scream and raced for me, furious that its hunt had been challenged. In such a way will the hadat guard its victim from another, the two hadat leaping together in the air, fangs and claws dashing with kill lust, each determined that the other shall not survive. So, then, did the hadat leap for me, yet was I no puny city female, to be taken by the mere sight of my life sign. As the hadat leaped, so did I, too, leap, yet not to meet it. I threw myself swiftly to the ground, rolling beneath the claws which reached for my blood, using the instinct of the hadat which had sent it to the air, even before it fully realized that I was no hadat. With a great howl of fury did the hadat alone reach the trees beyond the clearing, and then were the sounds of many shafts leaving their strings. The hadat snarled its fury as it turned, unwilling to face the numbers that confronted it, and I sat upon the ground and watched it gone, the shrieks of the female Halia sharp as a blade in my ears.

I turned to the running footsteps then, and beheld Ceralt before the rest, pounding toward the screaming, weeping Halia, as she waited to be grasped and held against her terror. Up to the sobbing female did Ceralt run—and past her to where I sat upon the ground. His face an unreadable mask, he pulled me from the ground and threw his arms about me, his hand pressed hard to the side of my face, my metal-bound wrists lost between us. He held me so for a long moment, my cheek upon his chest, and Halia stood with widened eyes, her screams and fear forgotten, in disbelief. Many males ran to her then, and quickly was she taken in the arms of one who had often been beside her, yet she stood numbly against him, receiving none of the comfort she had craved.

Then Ceralt’s arms released me, his hands taking my arms instead, so that he might shake me. “Now shall you truly be beaten!” growled the hunter, enraged, his fingers like metal upon me. “To call upon yourself the hunting hadat, merely to save the life of one who has given you only grief, is the act of a veritable idiot! Do you not know that you could have been killed? Have you no sense within that great, empty head? Will you never learn to care properly for yourself?”

His hands shook me, his voice raised high in deep-felt outrage. I did not understand his actions, yet was I unable to ask of it, nor explain my true purpose in luring the hadat to me. Question upon question did he shout, demanding answers, yet allowing for none, till the male who had held the female Halia came to us, and placed a hand upon Ceralt’s shoulder.

“Gently, hunter, gently,” said this male. “Well do I know your feelings in the matter, yet must it be remembered that my daughter’s life would have been forfeit save for her. I would offer my thanks to her before you beat her for her foolishness.”

“You may thank her,” said Ceralt with anger, “yet beaten she shall be, and soundly! Also for having run from me, for had she not run, she would have been in no danger!”

“Truly, for the moment I had forgotten,” said the male. “She is slave to you, is she not.” The words were not a question, and the male looked at me, then at Ceralt. “I would buy her release from you, hunter,” said the male very simply. “Speak her price.”

Ceralt held the male’s eyes as he stood there, his hands yet upon my arms, though he shook me no longer. “Her release from me shall never be bought,” he murmured, “for her price is beyond any who might wish to meet it. She is mine, and mine she shall remain.”

“As a slave?” asked the male beside us, as Ceralt looked softly down into my eyes. There was a hint of amusement to the male’s voice, and Ceralt smiled faintly.

“If need be,” said he very gently, and then did he swiftly bend and lift me upon his shoulder. Never had such a thing been done to me, and through my outrage came Ceralt’s chuckle. “She has not yet learned to obey me,” said he quite briskly. “If you will excuse us?”

Amid the hearty laughter of those all about us, Ceralt carried me from the clearing. I beat at him with the metal of the cuffs, yet was he not to be deterred. Unhurriedly, steadily was I carried to the yellow silk tent, the candles having already been lit against the slowly falling darkness, and then within. Once he stood upon the lenga pelts, I was again placed upon my feet, and the metal was removed from my wrists. When the second cuff was open, Ceralt took the metal and threw it from him, then he did the same with his sword. Uneasily I stood and watched him, for once before had he freed me and disarmed himself. The hunter saw my wary look, and laughed lightly.

“You are correct,” said he with a grin, chucking my chin. “I do indeed mean to take you again, in relief over not having lost you forever.” He paused by the waterskin, and turned to look back at me over his shoulder. “Do you object?”

By his single question was I rendered speechless. Of a certainty, I objected! Was I not a warrior of the Midanna, war leader of the Hosta? Could a warrior, in all honor, accept the touch of a male who simply announced that he meant to take her? Would Mida not see the shame in such a thing? Surely the male had been touched with madness. Narrow-eyed and quite suspicious, I asked, “Why would I not object?”

Ceralt laughed quite heartily at that. “The answer to your question, my girl,” said he with a grin, “must be yet another question. You were free from the leash for quite some time, yet you did not lose yourself in the forest. I know full well how easily you would fare on your own, therefore do I ask: why did you not go?”

“I could not abandon my warrior,” said I, finding it unnecessary to speak of other matters. “Fayan is yet held here, and I shall not leave her.”

Again Ceralt laughed, and placed the waterskin at our feet. “Fayan is held through her own desires,” said he, his hand gentle upon my shoulder. “She has given her heart to Nidisar, and holds his in its stead. All who have seen them know the truth of the matter, and you, too, have seen them. I know why you remained, Jalav, and I am filled with happiness.” Abruptly were his arms about me, and he held me to him. “You cannot bear to part from me, just as I cannot bear to part from you!”

“That is madness!” said I in shock as his lips began to lower to mine. “Most happily shall I part from you as soon as may be!”

“Women,” muttered Ceralt in annoyance, raising his head once more. “Be they civilized or savage, all must be coaxed—or captured. Look you, Jalav, can you not merely admit that you wish to be mine? As I wish you to be, and intend for you to be?”

“Be yours?” I repeated in outrage. “Never shall I be yours! I am a warrior of the Midanna!” I pushed from his arms, and wearily did he release me.

“Very well,” he sighed resignedly. “I see you cannot yet admit it, therefore must I continue to hold you captive till the fey you may no longer deny it. Till then shall you remain my possession.”

“And mine,” came Telion’s voice from the tent flap. We turned to see him, his face amused, and Ceralt frowned a bit.

“In truth, I had forgotten that,” mumbled Ceralt. “Telion, my friend, I would buy your partial ownership of her.”

“Partial?” inquired Telion with raised brows. “Surely you recall, friend Ceralt, that my ownership is equal with yours?”

“True,” responded Ceralt most soberly, “yet have I the greater claim. It was to my city that she first came.”

“It is to my city that she meant to go,” replied Telion with equal sobriety. “My claim should then be the greater.”

“I was captured by her clan and held for many feyd,” said Ceralt.

“I was captured by her clan and held quite briefly,” mused Telion, and Ceralt brightened, yet Telion then added quickly, “yet was I captured first!”

The two males then glowered at each other, and I merely stood to the side and examined them. Not the least idea had I of the point which they debated, and seriously did I doubt that they, themselves, could have told me. Mida, perhaps, understood, but none below her.

Another moment of glowering passed, then Ceralt firmly folded his arms. “I,” he announced in icy tones, “feel deep love for her!” He stood and waited then, his eyes fast to Telion, and Telion also folded his arms.

“I,” announced Telion as Ceralt stiffened, “have grown fairly fond of her!” Ceralt’s mouth opened in huge surprise, for surely had he expected other words from Telion. Telion laughed at Ceralt’s look, strode quickly to him, and then clapped him on the shoulder. “Ceralt, my friend,” he said, “that was the telling point. I did not know if you would admit it.”

“I must admit it,” Ceralt made answer ruefully, and then he too, laughed. “How else am I to purchase your partial ownership of her?”

“That will not be necessary.” Telion laughed. “I give my ownership—of whatever size—as a gift to you. Long have I known that it was in you she found greater interest.”

“No interest have I in any male!” I informed them indignantly, yet was I completely ignored, perhaps wisely. For a warrior to be so foolish as to say she finds no interest in males, is hopefully a lie—and tragically not—

“I have also secured another pavilion,” continued Telion. “It stands there, to the right of yours.”

“You are the most understanding of friends,” said Ceralt with a grin. “Had you not thought of it, I would have suggested it.”

“It was not understanding that prompted the action,” said Telion with a sly look. “There is true need for another pavilion, and happily will I show it to you.”

Telion then left the tent, and Ceralt turned to me with a questioning look, as though I would understand. So long had it been since I had understood things, I no longer felt surprise at the unexplained. I merely attempted to ignore them, in the fond hope that they would suddenly cease to be, and need no explanation. Should matters continue as they had gone, Mida would require all of eternity to rid herself of my First Question.

“I took myself hunting,” said Telion as he returned, “and see what fell to my trap.”

“The luck of the inexperienced!” laughed Ceralt with fists on hips, and I groaned with a great deal of feeling. Over Telion’s shoulder, bound wrist and ankle with leather, was Larid, struggling futilely to rid herself of the cloth which kept her from uttering a sound. Truly, Mida was making her task most difficult, and briefly did I wonder upon the possibility of her having changed her mind regarding return of her Crystal. Should that have been so, it would have been well to have mentioned it.

“I have not yet questioned her,” said Telion to Ceralt, “thinking that you, too, might find some interest in her words.”

“I shall know after her words are heard,” said Ceralt, and then did he gesture toward the lenga pelts. “Put her there, and then we may listen at our ease.”

Telion placed Larid on the fur, and then untied the cloth from her. Furious was Larid at having been treated so, and she glared quite strongly at Telion. Telion did not seem to see the glare, for he sat beside her and smiled in a gentle manner.

“We are extremely pleased to see you, girl,” said Telion mildly to Larid. “Where are the others of your wenches?”

“The Hosta are all about you!” answered Larid forcefully, her eyes ablaze. “Release me now, and you may keep your lives!”

“That is extremely kind of you,” nodded Telion with a smile, “yet do I believe that we shall hold you for a while longer. Might I ask exactly where about us the Hosta are?”

“All about you!” replied Larid with a toss of her head. “Should I not return within the hin, they will attack immediately!”

“Then we have only a hin to wait,” remarked Ceralt with a yawn. “It will take very little time to don my sword, so I need not hurry.”

“I already wear my sword,” said Telion, “therefore shall I have to occupy my time in another manner.” He paused to think a moment, then his face lit up with inspiration. “I have it!” he announced with pleasure. “I shall fetch from the caravan slavemaster his heavy whip, so that should the attack not take place at the specified time, I shall be able to properly punish a wench who dared lie to me.”

Slowly did Telion begin to rise to his feet, and Larid took on a look of fear. “Wait!” she gasped, and then bit her lip. “Perhaps I was mistaken as to the actual moment of attack. It may not come for, oh, all of the darkness!”

Telion, who had settled back upon the fur, nodded his head most soberly. “That presents no hardship,” said he. “I shall still fetch the whip, and merely hold it for use for the new light.”

Again he made as if to rise, and truly frantic was Larid. “No!” she pleaded in great upset, her eyes large and helpless. “I—I did not speak the truth a moment ago! I—do not even know where the Hosta are!”

Telion and Ceralt exchanged looks of satisfaction, and I seated myself upon the fur, my hand before my mouth so that my amusement would not interfere with their interrogation. Larid was once again indulging her fondness for pretense, and had now led the males to believe that she knew naught of the whereabouts of the Hosta. As the information had had to be forced from her, there was no doubt but that they believed her.

“These are serious matters!” Telion frowned sternly upon a thoroughly cowed Larid. “You must speak the complete truth, else you shall be well beaten.”

“I do not wish to be beaten!” begged Larid earnestly. “I will speak the truth!”

“Very well,” said Telion coldly. “I would first know how you came to be here.”

“I wished to free Jalav,” answered Larid miserably. “I waited without the city after the others and I had escaped, and followed when I saw her taken from there.”

“You are one of those three!” said Ceralt in surprise. “How did you rid yourselves of the slave metal, and where have the other two gone?”

“At swordpoint did we force a city male to remove the metal,” said Larid smugly, yet a glance at the disapproval of the two males before her cowed her once more. “Binat and Comir went in search of the Hosta,” she added uncomfortably, “and I remained in hopes of sighting Jalav and Fayan.”

“Then you must be—Larid!” said Telion. “Tell me, Larid, where did the others go to seek the Hosta?”

“Toward Ranistard.” Larid shrugged quite openly. “We do not know its exact location, yet do we know it lies to the north. Come one light or another, it shall be found.”

Telion and Ceralt looked upon one another again, and then Telion indicated that Ceralt was to join him at the far side of the tent. The males walked to the side and began conversing, quietly, and Larid moved dancing eyes to me. Seeing the attention of the males elsewhere, I placed my fingers to my lips, then lowered the hand, palm upward, to my lap. “Good,” I had told Larid in the silent speech of the Midanna, and her dancing eyes sparkled with pleasure before assuming again a look of cowed misery. It then occurred to me that Larid may have come with a purpose, but I was unable to ask the question, for Telion and Ceralt chose to return to her then.

“We shall, for the moment, accept your answers,” Telion informed Larid sternly from above her. “Should we find, however, that you have lied, the whip will be fetched so that you may be beaten!”

“I have not lied!” sobbed Larid with great fear, writhing in her bonds. “Please do not beat me!”

“We shall see,” said Telion, then he crouched before her and lifted her face with his hand. “Do you recall who I am?” he asked rather mildly.

Ladd seemed puzzled, yet she answered, “Of course. You are the last sthuvad of our home tents.”

“Good.” Telion smiled. “And do you, by chance, recall what occurred in a room in a large, stone tower?”

Larid parted her lips to reply, yet was her voice stilled as a wary look entered her eye. Telion grinned as he saw memory return to her, and he nodded quite slowly.

“I see you do recall,” said he, reaching behind Larid to remove the war leather from her flaming red hair. “A captive was used by a warrior without the captive’s permission. I somehow feel that the incident is shortly to be repeated—with yet another captive and another warrior.”

Larid frowned and glanced worriedly toward me, but there was nothing I could do. Had she come with a purpose, her predicament was unfortunate, yet had she come in disobedience to my word, her predicament was well earned. In either event, the predicament could not be avoided.

“I believe she may now be returned to your pavilion,” said Ceralt to Telion with a laugh. “The meal should soon be brought, and I would see Jalav’s wound washed before then.”

“Wound?” frowned Telion, looking toward me, yet I, also, knew naught of such.

“From too close an association with a hadat,” said Ceralt, striding to me and taking my leg in his hand. There on my left calf, till then unnoticed by me, was a small cut, surely no longer than a finger. The bleeding had long since ceased, and I had not even felt the faint throb of it.

“Ah, yes,” said Telion, and then he shook his head. “Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would not have credited accounts of it.”

“I still do not credit it,” said Ceralt sourly. “And all for the sake of that foolish Halia.”

“By now, a well punished Halia,” laughed Telion. “When you carried Jalav off to your pavilion, Halia seemed to be seized by a fit. She screamed and wept and threw herself about, the gist of her ranting composed of equal parts of her refusal to be given to any man, her heated desire to be carried off only by you, and her deep conviction that Jalav is the sole source of her ills. Her father took up a strong, supple branch, and then firmly led her toward their pavilion. As I passed, her shrieks were already well in evidence.”

“Perhaps it may do her some good,” said Ceralt as he shook his head. “I, myself, would not wish her for wife.”

“Nor I,” agreed Telion, then did he raise Larid to his shoulder once more. “I shall see you again come the new light—”

“Certainly not before,” laughed Ceralt with a glance toward me, and Telion left the tent with a laugh of his own. Larid, upon his shoulder, outraged and worried, also seemed upset that we had not spoken. Truly, her presence there was for a purpose.

“Turn your leg,” directed Ceralt from beside me, for he had moistened a cloth and brought it to me. I did as he directed, and slowly, carefully, he washed the traces of blood from the scratch. His hand was upon my ankle as he did so, his eyes intent upon the motions of the cloth, and surely was his presence felt most strongly by me. Such broad shoulders had he, such well muscled arms, and large hands. In the home tents of the Hosta, easily could he become, even among many others, one of my true favorites. Perhaps the Harra were right, and captives might in honor be kept past initial usage. I would have to think on it.

The meat and a cloth to place it upon were brought by a slave, and the slave looked upon me most curiously. Ceralt laughed softly as the slave departed, then did he cut a portion of the meat for me. We fed in silence, seated side by side at the cloth, however Ceralt refused the renth to me. He, himself, drank sparingly from the skin, his eyes directly upon me. In my annoyance, I cared not where he looked.

Upon completion of the meal, Ceralt rose and began to extinguish the candles, therefore I rose also and walked to the post, there to seat myself once more, Ceralt turned from one of the candles, and seemed surprised.

“What do you do there?” he asked, as though no reason could occur to him.

“I wait to be chained as always,” said I, finding it odd that he would not remember.

“I see.” He nodded quietly, the one remaining candle throwing shadows about him. “And for what reason would you need to be chained?”

I then stared at him, wondering how long such questions would continue to come from him. “Why, to keep me from escaping,” said I, thinking that perhaps the answer had not been as obvious as I had thought “There is chance of your escape?” said he, full innocence upon him. “When now we hold not one, but two of your warriors?”

I had not considered that, but he had spoken truly. The Crystal must be considered above any of the Hosta, yet had I still to hear what word Larid brought. Should I depart the set I now traveled with in hopes of rejoining the balance of my warriors, indeed might I find that they had gone where I could not easily follow. I did not know what news might have come to Gimin, and I would truly be foolish to depart without first speaking with Larid.

“I hear no answer from you,” said Ceralt, and then he placed himself beside me on the fur and laughed lightly. “Perhaps that is because the true answer is that you cannot run from me. As I shall never allow you to run from me.”

Deliberately, then, he removed his covering, and removed, as well, my clan colors. I did not know how to answer his strange comments, yet did Mida make it that answer was unnecessary. His arms about me again showed his strength, and easily did the rough, hairy touch of him heat my blood. He held me to his chest till I was mad to take him, and indeed did I attempt to do so; however, with a laugh from him was I thrown to the fur and taken instead. As a war leader, I could not approve of being done so, though Ceralt’s actions were in accordance with the will of Mida. For Mida’s sake, then, did I abandon my objections, and accept all that Ceralt brought to me. Blessed is she who follows Midas will without question.