The Warrior Enchained

15

My escort to Aesnil was a full dozen guards, walking me down the corridor in a direction I hadn’t taken before. I wore the new white gown and the leather sandals I’d worn the day before, but as far as I could tell from the minds of the guards around me, I might as well have been walking around naked. Their eyes grew hungry when they looked at me, and I had the feeling they’d been promised something if my interview with Aesnil didn’t turn out the way she wanted it to. After the night I’d had with Daldrin, that little extra put me into a worse mood than I’d been in to begin with.

I’d awakened very early in the morning, held in Daldrin’s arms, one fur beneath us, another covering us, feeling as though I’d done something stupid. Since most of the night had been spent in pleasure I didn’t understand why I felt that way, but then Daldrin woke up and pulled me closer, and I began understanding exactly what I’d done.

At some point or other I’d projected my feelings to him, giving him something he’d never had before—but now wanted many times again. I’d tried talking my way out of it, but he’d refused to listen, instead going to work on me with all the knowledge of women he’d accumulated in his years of manhood. I’d had one lesson in how badly I did trying to resist him; the second lesson was worse than the first. I managed to keep from giving him the projection he wanted, but I was little more than a rag when he finally let me go. I know I expected him to be annoyed if not angry, but apparently he was a believer in the saying, “A thing worth having is a thing worth working for.” He chuckled in amusement over how close he’d come, kissed me deeply to reinforce the lesson he’d taught, then went to take the breakfast tray from the slave who had entered without my hearing her. I didn’t know how long the girl had been standing there, but there was very little for me to be embarrassed about. Her wide-eyed stare and trembling body were for Daldrin alone, his completely if he cared to take them. Daldrin laughed and kissed the girl before sending her away, giving me the impression that he never took advantage of sitting ducks—or slaves in need. The freer the woman, the freer he felt to take advantage.

Breakfast was a battle—at least on my part—but I rarely win battles with men on that world. I ended up eating considerably more than I wanted, and I refuse to say what Daldrin did to make me obey him. He grinned all the while he watched me eat, then he punished me further by making me feed him whatever I’d left over. Our relationship had undergone a considerable change since the day before, and I was more than relieved to dress and leave the room with my escort. The only thing that bothered me about the dressing part was the fact that Daldrin had tied my sandals—in a way that made me feel more as though I were being banded than having my sandals tied. I would have told myself I was imagining things if there hadn’t been such extreme satisfaction in his mind.

The walk down the corridor would have been long enough to give me the jitters if I hadn’t had other things on my mind. Up until the afternoon before I’d been dead set against giving Aesnil her way, but what had happened with her guards bad made me stop and think. Every time I got mad, I managed to do something with my talent that I’d never done before. Just a few months earlier I’d had trouble splitting a projection five ways, but the night before I’d split one eight ways without noticing anything but the fatigue from holding the projection so long. And as far as holding it went, I was doing that a lot better, too. It seemed that unrestricted use and practice was making my talent considerably stronger than I’d been led to believe it could be. It was more than possible I’d been lied to about my potential, which meant I’d also been heavily conditioned without my knowing about it. The more unthinking my reaction, the better my talent worked; if I stopped to think about it, I usually didn’t use it. For an empath that was like not using eyesight or hearing or any other natural ability. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to half-cripple me, but I’d been learning to use my limbs again without realizing it. How much more could I accomplish if I worked knowingly against what had been done?

Which didn’t mean I’d decided on wholehearted cooperation with Aesnil. I didn’t like being blackmailed, and I didn’t like the plans Aesnil had all blocked out. She would use me ruthlessly to get what she wanted, and as soon as she had it she would let herself realize how really dangerous I could be to her. What she did after that would depend on her mood, but it wasn’t likely to be anything I’d enjoy. The only real chance I had to stay alive and healthy was to go along with Aesnil, pretend to be on her side, and then see what I could do to work myself free. It wasn’t much of a chance, and I’d probably never survive on my own even if I did get away, but I was desperate enough to try just about anything. I couldn’t face the idea of being made a slave again, and if nothing else, the world of Rimilia would see to taking my life even if I couldn’t find the nerve to do it on my own.

The corridor finally led to a set of immense double doors, which two of my guard escort opened in front of me. Behind the doors lay a very large room, empty now except for Aesnil and her personal guard. The Chama lay in the middle of dozens of red pillows piled on the top of a very wide two-step platform that looked out into the rest of the room, and it was to the foot of this platform that I was taken. Aesnil looked down at me with a sweet, friendly smile, but her mind held no friendliness. There was something she wanted very badly, and if she didn’t get it she would allow her temper free rein.

“I bid you a good morning, my honored guest who is called Terril,” she purred, surprising me by remembering my name. “It is now time for your decision, which I eagerly await.”

“So it is,” I drawled, looking idly around me before bringing my attention back to her. “I would, however, like to ask one question before I reveal my decision. When last we spoke, you mentioned dendayy who treated you as though you were no more than any other woman. Should I agree to assist you, how greatly would I be restrained in dealing with these—males”

The venom I put into the last word brought the light of triumph to Aesnil’s eyes, just as I knew it would. Her mind surged with happiness and strong belief that I was on her side, a belief. I had no trouble bolstering without her knowing about it. Aesnil had only limited understanding of my abilities, an advantage for me if I used it right. As long as she thought I couldn’t touch her without her knowing about it, I could do almost anything.

“It is my intention to teach these—males—that I am a woman to be reckoned with,” she assured me with a good deal of warmth. “Should your efforts make them appear more foolish than I had intended, it will please me no end. Am I to understand that it is now your decision to join me?”

“Your understanding is correct.” I nodded. “If I am not to be restrained, I will gladly join you.”

“Excellent.” She laughed softly, throwing a number of pillows down to the step below her. “You may sit yourself there, and we will discuss what comforts you wish in return for your assistance. I must soon begin the day’s audiences, yet there is ample time for us to talk.”

I made myself comfortable in the spot she’d indicated, and the Chama and I discussed my price for helping out. I asked for everything I could think of that she would be willing to give, and the more I asked for, the happier Aesnil became. The Chama was well acquainted with and very much approving of the mercenary attitude, feeling as many others did that a person who couldn’t be bought couldn’t be trusted. The more she gave me the greater the hold she had over me, and the more there was that could be taken away if I became troublesome. I asked for larger quarters and more clothing and better food—and my good friend Daldrin. I asked for something special for him, explaining that he’d been too keen on following orders for my taste, and Aesnil had laughed and agreed immediately. She didn’t mind knifing a loyal slave if it made me happy; slaves weren’t worth anything and I was. As long as what I wanted wasn’t unreasonable, I would get it.

When our talk was finished, Aesnil gave the order to open a different set of doors than the ones I’d come in by. People immediately began streaming inside, the hum of their voices breaking off as they saw me, only to resume again at a different pitch. They all bowed in Aesnil’s direction as they found their places on the floor, but it was fairly obvious I was drawing more attention than the Chama. Aesnil noticed their stares with a good deal of amusement, and her eagerness to show me off was childlike: she couldn’t wait to see their reactions to what I could do, but was determined to drag the thing out as long as possible to torture everyone. I put a satisfied look on my face and kept it there, and made sure not to think about anything but the possibility of escape.

It took a while for all the people to get themselves inside, and after a time I noticed that there were considerably more women in the crowd than men. The women strutted around with contempt in their minds for any man they saw, and the few men among them frowned in distinct discomfort and disapproval, while looking totally out of place. They looked as though they’d been ordered to appear, and the fact that they wore haddinn while the women wore gowns, added to their out-of-place look. No man wore weapons but Aesnil’s guard, which compounded and underscored all the rest.

Once the people—who, I suspected, were regular members of the court—had settled down, Aesnil began the audience. The first to be presented was a big woman with very short hair, leather pants and shirt, and a sword at her hip. She introduced herself as the ambassador from some place called Vediaster, then began showing the gifts she had brought. Female slaves trotted in priceless furs and magnificent cloth, spices and leathers, wine and weapons—and at the end of it all, a matched pair of male slaves. The men were twins, and it was painful to feel the outpourings of their fearful minds, the confusion, the hesitancy, the agonized worry over what would become of them. They were large, magnificent males, splendid to look at—but they’d been raised as slaves and would be slaves till the day they died. When the ambassador bowed herself out and took the slaves with her, I was finally able to unclamp my jaws.

After the ambassador came a long string of people with quarrels, mostly female people quarreling with male people. In almost every instance the Chama decided in favor of the female complainant; the only exception was when she found against both sides in the argument and confiscated the land involved in the dispute. The woman she found against was shocked, and quickly left the audience room with her mind in a turmoil. She didn’t know whether the Chama was angry with her, or simply had wanted the land. If the truth lay in the former supposition, her troubles were just starting.

The first of my victims didn’t show up until the petty squabbles had been taken care of. The first I knew of it was when I felt a heightening in the hostility of the women of the court, and looked up to see a large man in a green haddin standing with folded arms as he stared at Aesnil. The Chama was busy selecting a tidbit from a tray held by a slave and didn’t notice the man, so he shifted his gaze to me while he waited. I could feel the approval in his mind when he looked at me, but that was the only approval he felt over anything in the room. He hadn’t come there willingly, and he didn’t enjoy being kept waiting.

“So, Lerran, you have finally answered my summons,” Aesnil said, bringing his attention back to her. “Where are the fighters and hunters your city was supposed to have supplied? Why have they not yet reported to my guard captain?”

“My city is unable to supply the levy you demand, Aesnil,” the man Lerran answered, his voice flat and final. “The savages harass us from all sides, stealing our women and children, killing our game, attacking us whenever they might. You find it unnecessary to send your guardsmen to deal with these savages; very well, we accept having to see to our own safety. We refuse, however, to further sap our strength by filling your levy. Our l’lendaa are needed and will remain with us.”

“L’lendaa!” Aesnil spat, straightening in the cushions to glare at Lerran. “Darayse would be a truer term! Your hunters and fighters fear leaving the streets of their city, knowing how poor a showing they will make among my guard! You, their leader, pamper their fears, yet they must grow to manhood at some time! Send them immediately, or suffer the consequences!”

“And what consequences do you speak of, wenda?” the man asked very softly, the fury in his mind adding thick menace to his tone. “Do you forget that it is we, the dendayy of your cities, who have allowed the extension of the law you so earnestly requested? Do you wish us to revoke the extension? It may be done quickly, should there be cause, and attack upon one of your own cities would be cause enough. Walk carefully, wenda, lest a misstep cause your downfall.”

“How dare you speak to me so!” Aesnil hissed, her mind in a frenzy of madness: “How dare you address me so! I will have you flogged and mutilated and hanged from my palace walls! I will send you to face the best of my vendraa! I will have you carved slowly into pieces! I will—will—”

The woman was nearly frothing at the mouth, so furious was she—and so shaken by the threat the man had uttered. I didn’t know what the threat entailed, but whatever it was, the idiot was likely to lose his life for having put it into words. Aesnil had forgotten all about me, but I still had a chance to do something to make her forget the promises she was making.

A quick check of Lerran’s mind showed the man totally unimpressed by the fury he’d caused in Aesnil. Happily, though, not everyone in the room felt the same way; the women watching and listening had become alarmed, some even downright frightened. I took the strongest apprehension I could find and shunted it through to Lerran, hitting the man hard but expending no energy on my part other than the minimal effort it took to pass emotions on. Lerran paled and almost staggered under the load, suddenly finding himself filled with worry and fear that grew stronger as the seconds passed. His mind automatically tried rejecting the load, then tried controlling it, but I was there to see that his usual control-of-self didn’t take over and get him killed. I let the flow of fear increase almost to its peak, then hit the l’lenda with remorse and contrition. His broad face twisted with soul-hurting pain, and then he was taking a step forward and putting his hand out toward Aesnil.

“Chama, forgive me!” he blurted, confusion roughening his voice. “It was not my intention to cause you such agitation! I regret the pain and the—the—”

He stopped in total confusion, shaking his head hard in an effort to clear the mud of his thoughts, but he’d said enough. After a brief experience of shock, Aesnil was flooded with delight and triumph-enhanced only slightly by me. The Chama had the victory she’d wanted over a denday, and his death was now absolutely unnecessary.

“At last you come to your senses, Lerran!” she crowed, a laugh bubbling in her words. “I, your Chama, accept your apology, and direct you to return to your city and obey my commands. Guards! Show him out.”

Two guardsmen came to move Lerran toward the doors, and he needed the assistance. He was having trouble understanding where he was and what was happening, but the confusion wasn’t likely to last very much longer. Once he was out of my area of influence, his mind would begin to clear itself. As soon as he was out of sight a hubbub of excited conversation broke out in the room, and Aesnil leaned down to put a hand on my arm.

“His apology was your doing,” she said, looking at me with all the pleasure and happiness in her mind. “You are magnificent, and worth whatever I have given you. You may be sure there will be other gifts as well.”

“The Chama is more than kind,” I smirked, letting smugness come through in my voice. “Her pleasure is my pleasure.”

Aesnil laughed at the triteness of the remark, then went back to listening to complaints. The court people hadn’t heard the exchange between us, but they were still looking at me in a very odd way. I was glad Aesnil hadn’t made any general announcements about what I could do, and I’d have to try to convince her to continue the silence. It would help neither one of us if her people attacked me as a witch or something.

Another couple of hours dragged by in boredom, and then there was a sudden stir all around as a man pushed his way through the people waiting and watching, and made his way toward the platform Aesnil and I sat on. He was a really big man, well made and completely confident, dressed in haddin and swordbelt and, strangely enough, still wearing his sword The guardsmen around the room hesitated in an odd way and looked toward Aesnil, who was radiating waves of fear and frustration despite the brightly interested smile on her face. The big man stopped about ten feet away from us, gave Aesnil a cursory glance of approval, then shifted his eyes to me.

“Ah, how thoughtful of you, Aesnil,” the big man said, his voice deep and carrying despite the fact that he spoke softly. “You have found a rella wenda for me, to console me till you wear my bands. Shall I take her now?”

“Terril is mine!” Aesnil snapped, rising to the bait the big man had dangled. “Never would I find a woman for you. Never!”

“For the reason that you wish me for yourself.” The man grinned, pleased he’d gotten a rise out of the Chama. It had faintly surprised him that I hadn’t gotten huffy over his comment, but he couldn’t know that I was able to tell he wasn’t serious. “As you are so eager to have me, let us dispense with the delay granted you by the council of dendayy and see to the matter now. I, too, am eager.”

“Eagerness for you is a flaw I do not suffer from,” Aesnil told him with a grating purr designed to annoy the man. “And now that I think on it, I fail to see any reason for allowing the council of dendayy a say in whose bands I shall wear and when. The decision in such a matter should be mine alone. For what reason are you here, Cinnan? Merely to bedevil me as always?”

“I need no reason to visit with she who will soon be my belonging,” the man Cinnan answered, his easy grin still in place. “That the Council of dendayy is disturbed is not yet my concern—though it soon shall be. As it happens, I heard of the deep agitation Lerran suffered from when he left your presence, and thought I might inquire as to what was done to him. There is little wisdom in antagonizing one’s supporters, Aesnil.”

“I need no words of advice from one such as you, Cinnan,” the Chama answered coldly, looking down at the man imperiously. “Lerran was taught a lesson which you and the other dendayy would do well to learn as well: I am not a woman to be trifled with. And as for the rest of your babble—by what right do you speak of me as one who will soon be your belonging?”

“By right of council law, wenda,” Cinnan sighed, sounding as though he had gone through all that many times before. “A Chama will always rule in our land, yet her decisions must be tempered with the advice of one chosen by the council to band her. I am he chosen to band our present Chama, therefore do I speak as I do.”

“Chosen, perhaps, yet not chosen by me,” Aesnil said, leaning back among her pillows again. “I do not care for the choice made by the council. Leave here, Cinnan, and do not return, for I shall have no part of you.”

“The choice is not yours to make, wenda.” He shrugged, more than a touch of compassion in his mind. “I will do my utmost to see that you do not regret the council’s choice, yet you may not deny me.”

“I do deny you,” Aesnil came back, a flash of anger in her mind. “I have commanded that you leave. Will you obey?”

Cinnan shrugged again as he folded his arms, then clearly shook his head, refusing the command. I got the impression that his refusal was required by his position, that is, that the Chama commanded all but the man who was to band her.

Even I expected Aesnil to grow angrier, but instead she just smiled.

“You refuse my command,” she purred, her mind filled with satisfaction. “Excellent. Guards, arrest this man and place him in chains! Should he prove himself worthy, I may allow him to become a vendra. Now, arrest him!”

The snap in her voice sent the spectators in all directions to get out of the way and brought the guard from their places around the room and toward Cinnan, causing the big l’lenda to stare around him in disbelief. I could see his disbelief would not be lasting very long, but I could also see how determined the guardsmen were. They would try to arrest Cinnan, he would resist, and the floors of the audience room would be stained with blood. As his hand began moving toward the sword he wore, I grabbed the faint trace of disbelief in his mind, brought it back to its original intensity, then quickly increased it. His mind wobbled from the dual pressure of belief/ disbelief, but belief didn’t have an empath backing it. His hand fell away from the sword in confusion just as the guardsmen reached him, and they were able to take his weapon and tie his wrists behind him with leather before a headshake brought him to the reality of his capture. He tried to struggle then, but it was much too late—as Aesnil’s tinkling laughter told him.

“You now know what befell Lerran,” she informed him, the purr even thicker in her tone. “As I stated earlier, Terril is mine. Take him away.”

The guardsmen pulled him, still struggling, out of the room, but not before his frowning stare had come to me and noticed the faint sheen of sweat on my forehead. Fighting his intentions had been like trying to lift him physically, but happily my mind was on a par with his physical strength. It had been a struggle, but he’d had no real chance against me.

“The morning’s audience is now at an end,” Aesnil announced once Cinnan was gone, raising herself from her nest of pillows. “Should it be my wish to resume this afternoon, you will all be informed. You may now leave.”

There was very little noise as the former spectators took themselves out as commanded, but if Aesnil could have heard the mental static, it would have considerably dimmed her pleasure. The prevailing attitude was shock, even from the women who had felt contempt for the men—or who had pretended to feel contempt. To see men handled that preemptorily had shaken them, as though they now felt themselves in jeopardy. It would be interesting to see how many of them returned, now that Aesnil had proven herself so powerful.

“Terril, your guard will escort you to your new accommodations,” Aesnil said as I got to my feet, her face glowing with joy. “There will be many gifts for you for this day’s work, you have my word on it. For now, I am sure your new accommodations will give you pleasure. Rest there till I have need of you again.”

She squeezed my shoulder with true, deep-down warmth, gestured in the direction I was supposed to go, then left by another door, her guard right behind her. I noticed then how nervous my own guard was, but led them out without letting them know it. I was surrounded by eight big, strapping men, and they were just short of being afraid of me! It was ludicrous to think I could handle all of them, but as long as they thought I could I was more than half-way there. It was a new experience walking around on that planet without having men’s minds humming at me, but at that point I considered it a change for the better.

My new room wasn’t far away, but as it turned out it was more an apartment than a room. I was let into the reception room by the guards, and was left alone to examine the pink and white pillows, silks, and carpeting, and take a tentative taste of the fresh food standing on a newly brought tray. Seeing another door made me wonder what was behind it, and opening the door showed me my sleeping room—with an added convenience I’d forgotten I’d asked for. The sleeping room was of silver and blue, fixed up with a wide set of sleeping furs stacked high, large windows letting in sunlight, blue pillows on silver carpeting just like in my old room—but with the one addition I’d asked for.

Daldrin, chained hand and foot to the floor.

“That smirk does not become you,” my loyal servant growled, looking up at me from his place on the floor. “As you have now had your amusement at my plight, I would appreciate being released.”

“Would you indeed,” I murmured, stepping closer to look down at him. “And what has a slave to say on the doings of his dendaya?”

Daldrin, annoyed, opened his mouth to snap out an answer, at the same time pulling at the chains on his wrists. As large as he was, the metal had no trouble holding him, and he bit back the words he’d been about to say as a very bad idea. He stared up at me in silence for a moment, fighting his thoughts back under control, then tried again.

“It seems the dendaya has won the approval of the Chama,” he said, his forwardness shrinking back to the level at which it had been when I’d first met him. “Is this the thanks a poor servant receives for having aided both his Chama and his dendaya?”

“A servant should be grateful that he was allowed to be of assistance,” I pointed out as though the idea were no more than reasonable. “Would he dare to expect a reward after receiving such favored treatment? No, I think not—unless he also sought punishment. Does the slave wish to be punished?”

“No, dendaya, this slave does not wish to be punished,” he assured me in a meek tone while his mind seethed. “This slave wishes only to give pleasure. Release me, dendaya, so that I might give you pleasure.”

“Perhaps later.” I yawned, pretending I was actually considering it. “What has become of your clothing?”

“It was taken from me,” he answered, practically through his teeth until he unclamped his jaw. “Perhaps the dendaya knows something regarding the reason?”

“Ah, yes, I do seem to recall now,” I said, tapping my lips with one finger. “It pleases me to look upon a body as lovely as yours, therefore have I had your clothing taken. For what reason should I have deprived myself?”

“Lovely,” he choked, pulling at the chains again. “You now have the power to do as you wish with me, therefore do you see no reason to deprive yourself. Perhaps I, in your place, would have seen a reason.”

“Perhaps you only believe you would have,” I said, looking down at him. “What difference is there between chains holding a man and the strength of a man holding a woman? Should it please me to take you, as it pleased you to take me, what difference would there be?”

“If no other,” he said, trying to smile, “there would be the difference between man and woman. A man learns the ways of a woman’s body so that he may use her as she was meant to be used. A man was not made to be used. So you do this to me in revenge for what was done to you earlier. Was the experience so unpleasant, then, that it called for revenge?”

“Pleasant or unpleasant, it was not my choice,” I said. “Should pleasure be given you against your will, does the sweetness take the sour taste away?”

“Perhaps it would in part.” He grinned, and then the grin softened. “To wish to use a highly desirable woman is no more than natural in a man. Should the action have given you distress, you have my apologies—yet not my regret.”

“And without regret, the action would happily be repeated at first opportunity,” I summed up with a nod. “I see you need to be left in chains—or perhaps to be taken so after all.”

“Wenda, do not leave me chained.” He laughed, unable to put the desperation he wanted into his voice. “Should you leave me so, there will be pleasure for neither of us. I must be free if we are to chase the sourness away.”

“I do not see the necessity for freeing you.” I shrugged. “Should I wish pleasure, I may take it as you have taken it—as easily and with as little regret. I have been taught that among l’lendaa, the ability to do gives the right.”

“Among l’lendaa, yes,” he agreed, no longer laughing. “You, however, are not l’lenda, nor shall you ever be. You are wenda, subject to l’lenda, to his desires and demands. I am a man and cannot be used as a woman is. Release me, else your pleasure will be an elusive thing.”

His light blue gaze had become sober and very determined, downright stubborn if you included the indications in his mind. He was convinced he could and I couldn’t, and argument on the subject was a waste of time. I shrugged as if conceding the point, then turned and left the room.

A minute later I was back with the tray of food, but it wasn’t my intention to torture him by eating in front of him, as the wary look in his eye seemed to assume. I put the tray down near him, took my sandals off, slipped out of the gown, then sat down to feed him.

Knowing how people feel about things does quite a lot to help you deal with those people, but very often empathy is unnecessary when dealing with certain people and specific actions. Daldrin had had me feed him earlier that day, and I would have had to have been entirely without senses not to know how much he had enjoyed it. I tasted the food first, as I’d been taught to do with the Hamarda, then I fed him as much as he would take, silently, gently, as though he were the important one. I used my lap to hold his head up as he ate, and he was very much aware of it; his eyes moved over me as if he had never seen me before, and his hands closed to fists beneath the cuffs of his chains.

After I had finished eating my portion of the meal, I moved the tray away and slid out from under his head. I could feel his reluctance to let me go, and I’d been careful to .keep out of range of those big hands of his. If he had gotten a grip on me, I would have been caught until I unchained him—and probably a good deal longer. I moved around to his right side and knelt beside him, then leaned forward to kiss him very lightly without touching him. Without looking I could feel his hands fold into fists again as he gritted his teeth, determined not to react to anything I did to him. He was rested and well fed and had worked out his needs earlier that morning; that was probably why he was so sure he could resist me, but I knew better. The men of that world rarely denied themselves anything, and even having been a slave hadn’t changed Daldrin’s basic outlook on life. The initial kissing had been a warning of my intentions, but not a warning that would benefit him. He was very much aware of what I was doing, and his trying to dull his senses automatically heightened them. That was when I began on him in earnest;

A man of the Amalgamation would have had no trouble resisting me, but Daldrin was a Rimilian and didn’t stand a chance. In a very short time he was writhing on the carpet fur, his broad body twisting, his muscles corded as he strained to break loose from the fetters that held him, sweat glistening all over and teeth clenched with effort. I felt weak and breathless myself, but I raised my lips from his body and reached over to kiss his face softly.

“A woman may pretend disinterest even while she writhes,” I whispered, spreading my hands out on his chest. “Do you, a man, wish to claim disinterest?”

“I will beat you for this, wenda, you have my word!” He gasped, chest rising and falling with the effort of speech. “Unchain me now! I demand it!”

“Oh, do not beat me, hizah, I beg you,” I wheedled, kissing more and more at his face. “Forgive a poor bedin and do not beat her. Allow her instead to soothe you in your misery.”

“Do not speak so!” he screamed, his mind burning as high as his body. “Release me now, wenda, now, now!”

“Forgive a poor bedin, hizah,” I pleaded, pressing myself to him as I put my arms around his body. “This bedin may not release you, yet she may bring you release. Allow her to bring you release, hizah, command her to your pleasure.”

“By the Sword of Gerleth, I cannot bear it,” he groaned, actually quivering beneath me. “You have used your power, and now I am done.”

“I have used no power on you save the power of a woman,” I told him, sitting up to look down into his eyes. “You are a man, and born to have such feelings for a woman. Will you be pleasured as you are, as helpless as I found myself to be in your arms, or must I taste the bitterness of defeat alone? I find, you see, that I must seek a proper ending to those feelings begun by the touching of a man. Should you refuse to take your pleasure in chains, should you refuse to learn the helplessness I was taught, I will then find it necessary to release you and allow you your way with me. I must have your word, l’lenda; which will it be?”

He stared up at me silently, his face shiny with sweat, his expression serious, his eyes troubled. I could feel how much he wanted to be freed, how desperately he needed to exercise his usual masculinity, and his words, when they came, were a surprise.

“It is impossible—to know—the depths of slavery till one has been a slave,” he got out, regretting every word even as he said it. “A wise man learns all things so that he may grow wiser still. Let us taste the bitterness of defeat together.”

I smiled very faintly, admiring his courage, then began helping him to grow wiser. He and I both found that although his body had been forced to readiness despite his wishes, his mind didn’t share that readiness and couldn’t be made to feel the sort of pleasure it should have. He did try, I’ll give him that, but the humiliation and frustration were too great to overcome. After an unsatisfying time of trying I finally gave up and unchained him, thinking my experiment was over, but I was only half right. Daldrin had a lot of frustration and forced need to get rid of, and the minute the last shackle was open I found myself seized and thrown beneath him, to reap what I had sown, so to speak. After what I’d done he wasn’t concerned with being gentle with me, but he wasn’t unnecessarily brutal, either. When it was all over he let himself drop to the carpeting beside me and sighed deeply.

“I find it difficult to believe a woman has so little pleasure from being taken through a man’s desire,” he said, his voice sounding tired. “Never before have my wendaa seemed other than pleased, yet never before have I had such a thing done to me.”

“A woman’s feelings are not those which you experienced,” I admitted, sitting up slowly to rub at my arms where his fingers had dug so deep. “For me the shame shows itself afterward, when I am able to realize what I have been forced to. Perhaps other women feel no shame; I know only that I felt no pleasure treating you so, no more than satisfaction in vengeance achieved and little even of that.”

“Perhaps we have both grown in wisdom,” he chuckled, putting his hand on my calf to squeeze gently. “It is said that to a wise man all experiences are worthy in that one may learn from each of them and thereby grow to be wiser still. Go now and search for a strap, wenda, and bring it to me here.”

“For what reason do you require a strap?” I asked, turning my head to look down at him. “A strap alone, without clothing would appear foolish to any who saw you.”

“I do not intend wearing it,” he said with a snort of derision. “Though I be chained here through my loyalty to my brother, I will not allow a wenda to chain me in reality and afterward go unpunished. My word was given you on the matter earlier; now you will have the beating.”

“You jest,” I said, searching his mind with a frown to find the emotion that would show he was joking. “You, yourself, agreed to remain chained—and I would not fetch a strap that I was to be beaten with.”

“I did indeed agree to remain chained,” he said, the look in his eyes harder than it had been. “I did not, however, agree to be chained to begin with. And you will most certainly fetch the strap you are to be beaten with, else will the beating be sharpened to cover the disobedience. You may now do as you have been ordered to do.”

“I shall do no such thing,” I said, rising stiffly to my feet. “I am no longer a slave, therefore do I refuse to be treated as one. You, however, remain a slave and need not have been unfettered so quickly. Do you think me your belonging, to be treated as you wish? Even were I to allow such a thing, one in your position would hardly be permitted a belonging.”

“My position will not forever remain what it is,” he growled, standing up to look down at me. “Should I wish a belonging I will take her, defending my right to her, if necessary, with a sword. Are you familiar with the use of a sword, wenda, that you would attempt to deny me my choice?”

He looked down at me coldly, shoulders stiff with anger, his body large and menacing. He was having more and more difficulty in keeping himself from reverting to l’lenda status in my presence, and that wasn’t a good sign. He hadn’t claimed me openly because he was, technically, still a slave, but waiting for it to happen would just be asking for trouble.

“I have no knowledge of the use of a sword,” I said with a headshake, not happy about what I would have to do. “Daldrin, you forget I have no need of a sword. I, myself, am spawn of the dagger, not to be gripped with no regard for my edges. Do not force me to hurt you.”

“I fear no woman,” he rasped, and reached a hand out toward my arm. He honestly felt no fear of what I might do to him; after all, hadn’t I been used by him more than once with nothing untoward happening? I hoped that one day my ability would be a reflex action coming into play the first time I was threatened, to make future scenes like that unnecessary. It was painful for me, but I took one step back and defended myself.

Doubt can be an agonizing emotion, especially when it’s strong and especially when you’re not used to it. Daldrin’s hand froze in midair, a sudden worry in his eyes, but he didn’t have much time for worry. The guilt hit him fast, a soul-shriveling guilt that put every ill in the world on his shoulders, bowing his head and sending him to his knees even as he sobbed once in an effort to ease the pain. His brawny body shook, wracked with self-accusation, and then the pain of guilt was gone, leaving behind a knowledge of how humbly grateful a man must be to find himself rid of such a burden. I strengthened the humility and gratitude, made sure they had a good hold on him, then went and got my gown and slipped it on. If I’d had any real inner strength I would have been able to stay and look at what I’d done, but the sight of Daldrin on his knees weeping was too much for me. I picked up my sandals and carried them to the next room, put them on, then called the door guards and told them I wanted a different room for that afternoon. They were still too edgy to ask me why, which was just as well. I followed them to a different empty room, closed the door, then lay down among the pillows and fell asleep.

When I was awakened by a female slave, I discovered that it was still early afternoon. The poor cringing little slave apologized for waking me, but she’d been sent by Aesnil to say that the Chama wanted me. I couldn’t have been asleep more than a few hours, but I felt rested in both body and mind, enough so that I could face Aesnil again without flinching. I stretched into the pillows until I had yawned away the last of the sleep, then followed the slave out.

Aesnil was waiting for me in the corridor outside of the audience room, but we didn’t go in. We turned, instead, in another direction I’d never walked in, and I was curious as to where we were going. Aesnil was smugly happy, and still filled with warm approval of me.

“You seem pleased to have me here,” I said to her as we walked down the corridor escorted by our guards. “Do we go to tend to further matters where my power will be required?”

“Your power will not this time be required.” She laughed, enormously pleased with the secret she had. “And yet, should you wish to use it, you may feel free to do so. I have promised you gifts for your service to me, and the first of them now awaits you. It is sure to please you as much as your service has pleased me, perhaps even more so.”

Her cryptic comments made me even more curious—and wary—but I couldn’t get another thing out of her but wait and see. She was anxious to give me the gift and really believed I’d like it, so I gave up prying and just followed along. We went down the corridor only halfway, then left the palace by what was obviously not a main entrance. We descended the steps to a wide, well-worn path, and followed the path about three hundred yards to a structure of very high stone walls that stretched away to either side of a heavy wooden gate fully as high as the walls. There was a beautiful day all around us, but the high stone walls seemed to echo with the stronger, more violent emotions, pushing at me harder the closer we got. I narrowed my sensing down to the dead, unechoing wood of the gate, and that way was able to continue on as if nothing bothered me.

We had to wait for the gate to be unbarred from the inside, and then we were able to enter. There seemed to be an awful lot of guards around, all dressed in the baggy pants, loose shirts and heavy sandals of the guards we’d brought with us. The inside guards were armed in the same way our escort was, but they also carried heavy whips, either in their left hands or coiled over their sword hilts. Aesnil’s pleasure was very great as we were greeted by a man who seemed to be the head guard of the structure, causing her to smile warmly when the man bowed.

“Has everything been prepared according to my instructions?” she asked, looking around at the bustle. “They have not yet been returned to their cells?”

“They await your inspection, Chama,” the man answered, and then he grinned. “The one sent us this morning is a wild beast, requiring many chains and men to subdue him. He will make an excellent vendra, surely surviving as long as that other new one. Perhaps on the next feast day they may be made to face one another to the death. It will be a spectacle long remembered by the people.”

“An excellent suggestion,” Aesnil laughed. “I will consider it carefully. You may now show us to where they are being held.”

“At once, Chama.” The man bowed in acknowledgment, then led us away from the wide-spaced entrance area to a narrower alleyway between the high outer wall and an inner wall that was almost as high. It was warm with the sun shining down on us and all the men with us were sweating in their long, bulky clothes, but none of them mentioned their discomfort to the Chama. I hadn’t understood why the guards wore more than haddinn and swordbelts, but Aesnil undoubtedly had had something to do with it. She seemed to, equate clothing with freedom; the less clothing, the less freedom. I wondered if the attitude was personal, or had something to do with tradition.

The alleyway continued on for at least fifty feet, then abruptly opened on another wide area. This area, unlike the first, had no outer gate that could be opened and closed. It was all high stone wall with one or two doorways in the inner wall, both stretches of stone brooding down even in the bright sunshine, penning in even further the chained men it contained. There must have been twenty or thirty of them, all very large and well-muscled, all heavily chained to strong wooden stakes, all of them naked. Every one of them in sight was covered with sweat, many of them also covered with welts from the whips carried by the guards, and they stirred when we appeared.

“The newest one is here, Chama,” our guide said, directing us to the first post on the right. “He is much quieter now, having learned the kiss of the whip. Would you have him able to speak to you?”

“No,” Aesnil smiled, staring up at the broad face of Cinnan, the l’lenda I’d helped her capture that morning. He was heavily gagged with cloth and leather, but his eyes spoke volumes on the fury he was filled with. Aesnil’s eyes moved down to inspect his body, seeing the many welts he was covered with—as well as other things—and his mind surged higher with the frustration and shame of helplessness. He struggled in the chains, his muscles straining with the effort, and Aesnil’s tinkling laugh rang out.

“You are beautifully made, Cinnan,” she jibed, posing as though inspecting him in great detail. “Should you win what matches you are given, you will undoubtedly give great pleasure to the slaves sent for your use. And yet it seems unfitting that one slave should be used by another, no matter that the second has earned the privilege. Perhaps I shall direct that you be denied slave-flesh for your lusts, and be made to suffer while the others pleasure themselves. It may teach you to speak more carefully to your Chama when next you stand before her. I shall decide when I see how well you fight.”

She turned her back on his anger with another laugh, stood for a minute looking around at the other vendraa, then slowly began moving down the right-hand row of posts, inspecting each man chained in place as she passed him. The fourth one in line made me pause briefly because of how familiar he looked, and then I saw the connection. Although the face in front of me was fractionally older, it was undoubtedly Daldrin’s face I looked at, or at least that of his brother. His body was scarred here and there and marked with welts, but other than that he seemed to be all right. His eyes looked at me without interest and his mind was bored, but he had still survived as a warrior in chains.

I moved down the line again after Aesnil, wondering who she was standing and inspecting now. She stood looking up at the man, her face composed but her mind filled with glee, her glance in my direction showing she was waiting for me. I increased my pace just a little, reaching her in a matter of seconds—then stopped dead in shock when I saw who was chained to the post.

“You did not suspect, and my surprise is a success!” Aesnil crowed, clapping her hands in delight over what must have been a stunned expression on my face. Standing there chained to the post, anger and confusion all through him, was no one other than Tammad. How he had gotten there I had no idea, but Aesnil was anxious to give me what details she had.

“He appears quite tame now,” she laughed, “yet his great body was filled with insolence when he came before me two days ago. He spoke of his woman having been taken to my palace, and cheekily demanded that I give you to him immediately. I naturally had him subdued by my guards—he and his two companions—yet only he proved worthy of a place as vendra. He has fought twice and won twice, and provided my people with great sport. I intend fighting him again with the new sun, when I will be able to witness the spectacle, and invite you now to join me. Are you not delighted to see him done so, without covering and in chains?”

“You have not the least idea how great a delight,” I said slowly, knowing I had to go along with her if I was to do anything for either Tammad or myself. “I had never thought to see him so, the one who so arrogantly took me from my people to serve his base desires. So you have fallen slave, eh, l’lenda? How demeaning for you—and how deliciously proper.”

My laugh put a darkening on his skin and a scowl on his face, but that was nothing compared to what it did to his mind. Reading him made me want to close my eyes and swallow hard, but I didn’t dare; all I could do was continue to laugh, and hope the chains holding his wrists to the post above his head didn’t snap. The way he was straining at them there was no guarantee they wouldn’t, and that despite the ugly welts all over him. He wasn’t a good, obedient slave, that was for sure, and I couldn’t even ease his pain. His mind was so wild with outrage and indignation that I couldn’t get through the barrier he was inadvertently projecting. I let the laughter die away and turned to Aesnil.

“I will happily join you come the new sun to watch this—beast—provide a spectacle for our pleasure,” I told her. “You are indeed generous to a guest beneath your roof, and I will not forget how much is owed you for this gesture: Let us leave this place now—the smell of their sweat sickens me.”

Aesnil smiled and nodded and began to turn away with me, but the sound of Tammad’s voice stopped us.

“Wenda, you are not yet done with me,” he growled, causing us to turn back to look at him. “Do not come to see me fight, else your pleasure will be considerably diminished when I reclaim you. Run, instead, and attempt to hide from me—and learn for the final time that I will find you wherever you go. You will not escape the reckoning due between us.”

He stood there glaring down at me, all self-righteous pride. The stiff-necked fool refused to entertain the least possible idea that the helpless female might be trying to give the mighty warrior a band in getting free, and that made me mad. As far as he was concerned I was useless, fit only for standing around and waiting until he did something. He didn’t deserve my help, but he would get it anyway—as well as a little something extra.

“I rarely find it necessary to run from a chained slave,” I told his anger, deliberately looking him up and down. “Slavery becomes you, and will undoubtedly be your lot for quite some time. Tell me, Chama: has he yet been given a slave for the latest of his victories?”

“The slaves await the victors now, chained by the neck in their cells,” Aesnil told me. “These vendraa would already have been returned there had I not ordered that they be made to await my pleasure. Do you wish the slave given him removed again?”

“No,” I answered, still staring at Tammad. His anger was just as strong as it had been all along, but my own anger gave me the added strength I needed to break through his iron defenses. I fought with his definitely opposed will, the sweat breaking out on my forehead, only partially aware of seeing him bare his clenched teeth, and then I was through, deep inside his unprotected mind. He struggled in his chains at the post, as though physical movement would help repel mental invasion, but he was much too late even if he’d been right. I poured my suggestion into his mind, strengthening it and underscoring it, and then withdrew slowly and deliberately, showing him I could come and go at will. Blazing fury followed me out of his mind, but the heat of the blaze couldn’t touch me.

“No,” I repeated to Aesnil, taking a deep breath. “Leave the slave as she is. He will continue to feel desire for her, and will need to attempt her use before proving to himself that he is now incapable of using a female. A sudden feeling of inadequacy will come to him each time he attempts it, so strong a feeling that it will overcome his desire. The sight should be quite amusing.”

“Excellent.” Aesnil laughed. “Exquisitely fitting. How clever you are, Terril. Let us leave them now to their own devices and return to my palace.”

“A lovely idea,” I agreed, turning away from Tammad, who was struggling so hard to get loose that the post was groaning. He was absolutely livid with rage and humiliation, and it was a considerable relief to walk away from him. He would not enjoy his next few hours of life, but my position with Aesnil had become much more secure. With a little luck, I’d never have to do anything like that to him again—not that he didn’t deserve it. If he’d had a little faith in me, it wouldn’t have had to happen in the first place.

Once we got back to the palace I found it necessary to join Aesnil in the royal suite for a glass of wine, but was able to put the time to good use. Through casual questioning I discovered that the other two men taken with Tammad—one a “normal” blond and one unusually dark-haired like me—had been brought to the palace to be servant-slaves when it was discovered that they weren’t vendra quality. Aesnil was curious about the dark-haired one, and grew indignant when I told her he was a man of my own land who had betrayed me to Tammad. I added that I would like to have that one in particular as a servant right after seeing Tammad fight for his life the next day, and she agreed immediately then asked what I had in mind for the turncoat. I painted a picture of humiliation and degradation that set her chuckling with pleasure, then excused myself to return to my rooms. Aesnil had told me a bath would be available any time I wanted it, and I was quick to say I wanted it immediately.

By the time I got back to my rooms a slave was already there, waiting to take me to the bath chamber. I found a closet filled with gowns, chose one in a cool ice blue, then let the slave carry it as she led me and my guards through the corridors. I’d looked in both rooms before leaving in hopes of finding Daldrin, but the man hadn’t been anywhere around. I’d chewed my lip over his disappearance, but hadn’t let myself worry the question long. I needed his help desperately to free Garth and Len from the palace, and couldn’t consider trying it without him. If something had happened to cause his permanent disappearance, I’d find myself with plenty of time for worrying then.

My guards were left outside a single door which led to a small area with another single door in it. The slave opened the second door to reveal what looked like a candle-lit, furred and pillowed resting area, and after closing the door behind us she carefully set my gown in one corner, then gestured me after her to the third and final door. The resting area had been warmer than the entrance area and corridor, but behind the third door lay a large tub below floor level and more heat than I’d already experienced. I entered slowly, looking around at the windowless walls hung with silks and large candles, seeing two other slaves jump to their feet as the third closed the door behind us. All three of the slaves were naked, and in that room it was a good idea.

“Allow us to assist you, dendaya,” one of the slaves murmured, coming closer with the other two to help me out of my gown. I didn’t particularly want their help, but the sudden heat was making me drowsy, adding to the tiredness I already felt from my battle with Tammad. It was easier letting the slaves have their way, and before another minute had gone by my sandals were also gone and I was being directed into the water. I sank down in the tub with a sigh and put my head back, then let all my worries and aches soak out of me into the warm, soothing water.

The slaves let me relax a while, then slowly and gently began washing me. It felt wonderfully good to be taken care of that way, and by the time my hair was also done I was ready for a nap. I let myself be urged out of the water and into a thick, soft cloth being used as a towel, then followed one of the slaves into the resting area. I had my eye on a comfortable-looking pile of gold and white pillows, but the slave asked me to stretch out on the carpet fur so that lotions could be massaged into my skin. I agreed with a sigh, loosening the towel as I lay down, telling myself the massage would be worth the loss of the pillows. I got as comfortable as possible on the carpet, letting my eyes close as the slave left, probably to get the lotions.

I know I dropped off for a short time; I awoke to the delightful aroma of flower petals and felt the touch of hands on my body, spreading something warm and thick over my back. It felt so good I almost fell asleep again, but when the hands reached my behind and thighs I got a shock that woke me all the way. The mind behind the hands hummed, and the hum belonged to Daldrin.

“Lie still, dendaya,” his voice came as I tried to turn over and sit up. “I am ordered to tend your body and shall do so. The lotion must be used before it cools.”

The back of his arm shoved me face down again even as his mind chuckled; he was nothing but an innocent servant-slave, following the orders of his masters. I gasped as his hands did more than massage me and tried to crawl out from under his too-close attention, but one of his arms circled my waist while the other continued the ministrations.

“Daldrin, release me!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice down while still putting a snap into it. “There are important matters to be discussed between us. There is no time for this foolishness!”

“How might this insignificant slave discuss matters of import with a dendaya?” he murmured, tightening his hold around my waist. “I must do as I was ordered to do, else I shall be beaten. I do not wish to be beaten, dendaya.”

“You misbegotten son of a lame seetar, release me!” I snarled, trying to squirm loose with the oily help of the lotion on me. “Have you no sense in that thick blond head? Have you no desire for escape? Why will you not list—oh!”

“There is need for the lotion even there,” he commented while I kicked and struggled and tried to make him stop. “Somehow I feel that that place will require a good deal of lotion. Why do you not force me to release you as you did earlier in the day?”

“I cannot,” I gasped, dizzy from what he was doing to me.

I needed tight control of my emotions for a projection, but his touch on me was producing the mental equivalent of an earthquake—and I was sure he knew it.

“Just as I thought,” he said with a good deal of satisfaction without stopping what he was doing. “Now, what is this about escape? I thought you understood my reasons for remaining here.”

“Your escape—will assist in your brother’s escape—as well,” I panted, barely aware of the fistfuls of carpet fur I held to. “Daldrin—I cannot think when being done so! You must release me!”

“I need do nothing of the kind,” he denied, his mind hard with decision. “Should you wish to speak to me, I will listen for a short while. After I have listened I will then decide what must be done. In any event, you are sure to figure prominently in whatever the results come to be.”

I didn’t like the ominous sound of that, but I had very little choice. I had to get it said while I could still talk.

“There are two men confined in this palace who are close to me,” I got out, the words spilling over one another in the rush. “Should you help them to escape they will surely take you with them to find the others who await them nearby—and who will return to attack the place where the vendraa are held. In such a way will you be able to free your brother. Now, release me.”

“There seems little reason for them to return, not to mention launching an attack against the vendra ralle,” he mused, ignoring my last words. “Perhaps there is some point you have neglected to mention—such as the presence of another of their number in the vendra ralle?”

“Yes, yes, of course!” I raged, struggling. “The third of them has been declared vendra, and they will not desert him. They cannot desert him. Daldrin, please! I cannot bear it!”

“I shall consider your proposal,” he said in a very neutral way, then finally stopped torturing me. “Lie still now, for there is lotion which still must be used upon you.”

I shuddered as he resumed spreading lotion, from relief as much as from dread. What would I do if he refused to help? What could I do? And more to the immediate point, what was he going to do to me? What I’d done to him earlier in the day hadn’t been pleasant; would he see that rd only been defending myself, or was he out for revenge? His mind was calm and his emotions were completely under control, and I couldn’t see a damned thing one way or the other to help me out.

When the lotion had been spread down to my ankles, I was ordered to turn to my back. I obeyed with reluctance, then watched his big, hulking form as he began spreading lotion up the front of my legs. I finally noticed that he was working automatically, his eyes seeing and his hands doing without the supervision of his mind. His intellect worked at another job, turning here, twisting there, poking and prodding. It almost seemed as though he’d already made his decision, but his mind still hadn’t stopped working. When he reached my ribs his hands finally stopped spreading lotion, and his eyes came to my face.

“The two you speak of,” he said, holding my gaze. “I believe I know which ones they are. They were brought to the servants quarters not long after your arrival, badly beaten by the whips of the guard. They have been toiling in the kitchens ever since, for there are no other female guests to tend at the moment.”

“Will you help them to escape and go with them?” I asked, needing to know which way he had decided.

“This third one, the one who has been made vendra,” he said, ignoring my question, “is undoubtedly the l’lenda who took you from your own land, the one who could not follow you even had he wanted to—which he did not. It is obvious you wish to free him so that he might rescue you.”

I suddenly found it very difficult meeting that steady blue gaze. I turned my bead to the side to stare at a nearby pile of orange and yellow cushions, but Daldrin’s hand came to my face and turned it back to him.

“You would not be so foolish as to run from him once his freedom was assured,” he stated in a fiat voice, staring at me narrowly. “Not even a wenda such as you could be so foolish as to refuse rescue.”

“I will rescue myself once his l’lenda have attacked,” I said, trying to ignore the flush I could feel on my cheeks. “The diversion will be enough to take all eyes from me, so that I may go my own way. There is little hope for me if I remain to be—rescued.”

“You have done something to anger him,” he said in exasperation, for some reason annoyed. “What have you done, wenda, and how badly will you be punished for it?”

“I will not be punished at all for I will no longer be here,” I told him, pushing at his hand to make him let my face go. “As for what was done, that does not concern you. Will you assist me, or do you prefer rotting here the while I assist myself? I will make the attempt with or without you, no matter the consequences.”

“I do believe you would,” he said, shaking his head as he continued to stare at me. “Never before have I seen so stubborn a wenda—and one so badly in need of a strong hand to guide her. I will assist you in freeing your l’lenda, for I, too, wish to see him free and myself as well. Let us finish with this lotion so that the task may be done.”

“I wish no further lotion,” I said, taking the opportunity to roll away and sit up when he turned to reach for the lotion jug. “And I would know why you wish to see Tammad free. That you wish freedom for yourself is easily understood, yet not so the other. Why should his freedom be of interest to you?”

“My reasons are not your concern,” he answered, his mind as calm as his gaze. “Return yourself to me so that this lotion may be applied.”

“I know not why that misbegotten lotion concerns you so!” I snapped, bothered by his answer—or lack of one. “Give it here and I will apply it myself.”

I reached my hand out for the jug, but all he did was shake his head and continue to stare at me. After a minute I took my hand back, and admitted to myself that I had no choice. I needed his help no matter what I’d said, and he knew it as well as I did. I moved forward again to where he was sitting, and watched a faint grin appear on his face.

“When one cannot use a weapon, one may as well not have it,” he observed, tilting the jug over his hand to let the lotion flow out. “You are willful and disobedient to a large degree, undoubtedly because of your power, and yet any woman may be taught to obey him to whom she belongs, should the matter be pursued strongly enough., We cannot begin your quest till darkness has fallen, therefore may we concern ourselves with other matters for the time.”

He rubbed his hands together to spread the lotion on both of them, then proceeded to cover the areas of me he hadn’t yet touched. I’d never before thought of myself as easy, but Daldrin was almost as bad as Tammad when it came to resisting him. I’d been able to accept most of what he’d done to me earlier, but he brought the memory of that back and added to it so thoroughly that I soon found myself in his lap, kissing at him and trying to talk him into taking off those red leather slave pants he had on. He laughed softly as he ran his hands all over me, making me squirm against his chest as I kissed him, making me willing to do anything if only he would satisfy me. Once we reached that point he took me in his arms and kissed me deeply, then began making me pay for what I wanted. His price was unreasonably high but he still took all of it, and it was a long time before I could think coherently again.

When I left the bath chamber, dressed in my new blue gown, Daldrin followed after me with his head down and a tightlipped expression on his face. I didn’t know why he had chosen to look that way until the members of my guard began ragging him, telling him how delicately lovely and well-used he looked, and how satisfied his dendaya looked. It then came to me that the guardsmen might have grown suspicious if he hadn’t looked that way—after all, we’d been in the bath chamber alone together an awfully long time, and if he hadn’t satisfied me in all that time, he’d be in for replacement and punishment. I put a smug, self-satisfied look on my face to match the hang-dog one on Daldrin, and kept it there until we got back to my rooms.

Once we were inside with the doors closed, Daldrin patted my bottom in approval and went to check the other room to make sure we were alone. I felt very impatient over the fact that it was only just sundown, and prowled around the reception room while Daldrin lighted the candles. We couldn’t begin our escape attempt until well after dark, when most of the people in the palace would be settled down for the night, and even the tray of food brought by a slave a few minutes later didn’t distract me. I was ready to ignore it completely, but Daldrin had other ideas. He forced me to sit down and eat what he gave me, keeping the strap he had found well in view while I did so. He grinned at the way I glared at him between bites, but there was nothing I could do to wipe that grin off his face. If I started raking him over the coals by twisting his emotions, he’d be useless when I needed him the most.

The minutes and hours dragged by so slowly I was ready to scream, but Daldrin was entirely untouched by tension of any sort. His big body lay stretched out on the carpet fur, his blond head propped up on a cushion, his eyes closed and his mind dozing lightly. I sat down in one corner and tried to match his calm, but without using self-hypnosis I couldn’t do it. So many things could go wrong that night, so many little things—and so many big things. I was up and pacing again before I knew it, but not before Daldrin knew it. It was the third or fourth time my pacing had broken into his doze, and he was finally annoyed enough to do something about it. Against my will I was forced to lie down next to him, held tightly in his arms so that I couldn’t pace and he could sleep. I was tempted to sink my teeth into one of those massive, ridiculously strong arms that held me prisoner, but Daldrin still had that strap and was annoyed enough to use it on me, leaving me no choice but to grit my teeth and lie still. I don’t know how it happened, but in a very few minutes I was asleep, too.

I woke up when Daldrin did, and it was clear from the alertness in his mind that it was time for us to be moving. We spent a couple of minutes going over our plans one last time, then I went to the doors to my room while Daldrin stood well back. I didn’t need to open the doors to know there were four guards out there, but the guards were an expected presence. What I was checking for was unexpected presences, up and down the corridor as far as I could reach. A quick, thorough search revealed no living mind within my range, and that was all I’d been waiting to learn. The guards were the only ones to be taken care of, and that was my job.

Slowly, gently, I reached out to the four minds, finding the boredom that filled them all, increasing it carefully before injecting sleepiness. I heard a yawn through the doors, and then another, and then the sounds of men sitting down to get comfortable on a dull, routine job. They weren’t supposed to be sitting down, of course, but the dash of indifference I’d fed them made it all not worth worrying about. Their indifference and boredom increased, and then their sleepiness, and in another few minutes they were all snoring softly, asleep and likely to stay that way.

I turned to Daldrin and gestured him closer, glad he’d had the sense not to argue when I’d told him I wanted him well out of range of any stray projections. He was at the doors in an instant and opening one of them carefully, then both of us were out in the corridor with the door closed behind us, tiptoeing past the sleeping guards. We were on our way to the servant quarters, where Len and Garth were being held, and that was what I’d needed Daldrin for. I didn’t know the way to the place they were being kept, and without Daldrin I could have wandered all night without coming anywhere near them.

Daldrin led me down the corridor a long way before he stopped at a single closed door and opened it carefully. Behind the door was a stairway leading down, and we took it without anyone showing up to wonder why a servant-slave was sneaking around in the middle of the night with an important-looking female trotting along behind him. We had argued about that point, Daldrin and I, back in the bathing chamber when I’d been able to argue again. Daldrin had insisted that I couldn’t wander around the servant-slave area in a gown and not attract the sort of attention we didn’t need. He’d wanted me to go naked, pretending to be a female slave either on her way to or coming back from being raped, but I didn’t like his grin. I wouldn’t have put it past him to arrange a false alarm, and then rape me himself just to make our act look good. Happily, all I’d had to do was ask him how many dark-haired slaves the palace boasted of, and he’d had to concede the point. Anyone seeing me would know who I was, naked or clothed to the teeth. The only thing for it was to make sure no one saw me.

There was no door at the bottom of the stairway, only an arch that opened onto a narrow corridor cut into the dirt and rock walls. Torches sputtered in rusty iron holders on the walls, illuminating the worn, dirty stone floor just enough to let us see where we were going. The air smelled stale and rancid, from old cooking odors and sweat and pain. Pain has its own smell when you live in a world of emotions, but I’d never realized that until I’d come to Rimilia.

Daldrin moved along the corridor to the left, his mind eager to leap ahead despite the restraining hand I had on his arm. I was letting my mind pull ahead of both of us, searching for anyone still awake, but the only traces I touched were the exhausted minds of slaves, deep in a sleep of escape. We passed archway after archway, some of them slaves’ quarters, some of them punishment rooms, some of them eating rooms or training rooms, all of them smaller than the one Daldrin pointed out as the kitchen. All the cooking for the palace was done there, and it seemed large enough for fifty people to work in and still have room to spare, but fascinating as it was, we weren’t there on a guided tour. We passed the four kitchen entrances quickly, and went on to the area that quartered the kitchen slaves.

“Their cell is one of those,” Daldrin whispered in my ear, pointing to a series of barred doors across from a bunch of the usual archways. “They are chained to their work places during work time and locked away during the darkness, for they were caught trying to escape shortly after they were brought here. They were whipped for the attempt, of course, yet to give them another opportunity would be foolish.”

I nodded without saying anything, then quickly grabbed for Daldrin’s arm before he could slide open the peek hole on the first of the cells. I didn’t need to look inside to know if Garth and. Len were there, but Daldrin was having trouble understanding that. I checked the first cell my own way, shook my head to show it wasn’t them, then moved on to the next.

It wasn’t until we reached the fifth cell that I found what I was looking for. I tried to slide the bolt back on the cell door myself, but it took Daldrin’s strength before the heavy bar would move. He also pulled the cell door open, but I was inside first to quickly kneel beside the two still forms. Their minds and bodies were so—untenanted—that I thought at first they were dead, but a closer look in the harsh torchlight of their cell showed they were only in a deep, exhausted sleep. Their bodies, above the ever-present red, leather pants, were covered with the mark of the whip—and bruised besides—but they couldn’t be considered child-slender. They were full-grown men with men’s forms, and I couldn’t understand why my old thought-picture of them considered them children. I shook my head to dismiss the idiocy of the idea, then began rousing them.

It took a few minutes to get them awake, and once I did I had to convince them they weren’t dreaming. I explained the plan to them in a whisper while they listened intently, and the three of us were so wrapped up in the briefing that the interruption came as a cold-water-down-the-back shock.

“What do you do in here with these miserable slaves, girl?” a raspy voice demanded, causing me to twist quickly around where I knelt. A guardsman stood in the open doorway, a guardsman who was neither sleepy nor drunk, a guardsman who was looking at me critically—and liking what he was seeing. Len and Garth stirred where they sat, but the guardsman’s hand was immediately on his hilt.

“None of that,” he growled at the two men, his mind so cold and empty of emotion that I shivered. “Should I find it necessary to spit you two wretches, no one other than the kitchen master will take notice. And you, girl. If I am not mistaken, you are the one so cozy with the Chama that she sends you trays of the best foods, and servant-slaves to tend your needs. I doubt she would be pleased to hear of your consorting with slaves not given to you—if she should hear of it. Once I have taken you to my quarters and we have discussed the matter, I will likely forget all about your presence here. Up on your feet now and come with me. The stink of these slave quarters turns my stomach.”

He kept his eyes on me as I rose slowly to my feet, my mind racing frantically as it searched for a way out. I could stop the guardsman as easily as I’d stopped anyone else, but whatever treatment I gave him it wouldn’t be permanent. Once he recovered he would remember everything, and right after that Aesnil would find out about it. If I went with him at least Garth and Len would still have their chance, they and Daldrin. Three slaves being gone would cause only a small stir—until they came back with the rest of Tammad’s l’lendaa.

I was three feet away from the guardsman when the dark shadow appeared behind him and the massive arm circled his throat, squeezing tight with the speed of thought. The guardsman made a choking sound and scratched at the arm cutting off his air, tried to reach behind to claw at a face, then tried again to move the arm across his throat. His efforts did no more than make the arm tighten further, and then head and arm moved abruptly backward, a sickening snap accompanying the jerk. The guardsman’s mind exploded into shock as his body sagged, and then his life-trace began thinning and fading, disappearing into nothingness. I didn’t realize I had backed away in deep shock of my own until I felt Len and Garth to either side of me, their presence meant as comfort—and protection.

“I will dispose of this carcass and then we may leave here,” Daldrin’s soft voice came as he hefted the dead body higher off the floor. “It will take no more than a moment.”

He dragged the body out of the doorway, moving further away from the direction in which we had come, and Len drew a deep breath then let it out slowly.

“Nice friends you have, Terry,” he said, patting my arm to calm the jumping shivers he could still feel in my mind.

“Just be glad he’s on our side,” Garth commented as he tried to stretch the aches out of his back. “What did that first joker want, anyway?”

“He wanted Terry,” Len said, turning to look at me in the flickering light. “And she was ready to go with him to give us our chance to get out of here. I don’t think I know any other woman who would be willing to do that for me.”

“I know I don’t,” Garth said, adding his part to what had become a general stare. “Why would you do a thing like that, Terry?”

“I hate to see a good plan go to waste,” I told them, taking my own deep breath. “I went through a lot to get this thing moving, so don’t go wandering off once you’re out of here. Find Tammad’s l’lendaa and get them over to the vendra ralle before it becomes a wasted effort.”

“So we’re supposed to believe you’re doing this for no one other than Tammad,” Len said, narrowing his eyes. “If all you were interested in was launching an attack against that arena, you could have sent your friend out there to find the l’lendaa. There was no reason to include us in on the escape plan.”

“And good reason not to,” Garth put his oar in. “Getting us loose from here had to make the plan three times more dangerous and five times more likely to fail.”

“You forget that Tammad’s men don’t know Daldrin,” I said in exasperation, glaring at the two geniuses. “What if they didn’t believe him? What if he got into a fight with some of them before he could explain why he was there? If you two don’t know how to think, that doesn’t mean I don’t either. And if you’re so bothered about getting out of here, I can always leave you behind after all. Maybe just sending a note with Daldrin will do it.”

“Totally unnecessary,” Garth said quickly, holding his hands up. “Much as I love this place, I’m willing to tear myself away. We’re right behind you.”

“But we’re not right behind her,” Len said, his mind still disturbed. “In case you’ve forgotten, she isn’t going. What’s to keep you from going with us, Terry? If three can get out, four shouldn’t be that much harder.”

“Len, if I go with you Aesnil will have every guard in the place chasing after us,” I sighed. “She—accidently found out about some of what I can do, and has made me her—enforcer, I guess you could call it. You three can make it without notice. I can’t.”

“All right, let’s not start an argument over that,” Garth said quickly when he saw the expression on Len’s face. Len’s expression matched his mind perfectly, and I didn’t want to look at either one. “All we can do now is get out quickly and get back even faster. Once we get Tammad loose and tell him what’s going on, he’ll . . . ”

“No,” I interrupted quickly, looking up at Garth. “I don’t want Tammad to know anything about my part in this. Just tell him you talked Daldrin into helping you escape, and I never came anywhere near you. This is important to me, Garth, and I want your promise.”

Garth exchanged looks with Len, who was still more than angry, but the two of them nodded the way I wanted them to.

“All right, we’ll keep your secret,” Garth agreed. “Why it has to be a secret I don’t know, but we’ll keep it anyway. What are you going to .. . . ”

“We may now leave,” Daldrin said, suddenly reappearing in the doorway. “Come quickly but silently, and we may yet live to see the new light.”

No one had to be told that twice, but we made sure to close and bar the cell door again before moving back up the corridor. We reached the stairway without incident, climbed to ground level, then hurried up the corridor that led to the exit they would use. The air was so much fresher up there that I was able to breathe normally again, not having realized that I’d been breathing in small gasps the entire time I’d been below ground. When we were almost to the exit Daldrin and the others stopped, letting me go on alone. The guard at the small door went to sleep the same way the guards at my door had, and the three men were able to join me.

“Care for yourself until our return,” Daldrin told me, looking down at me with reluctance in his mind. “I do not care to leave you unprotected, yet I may do no other thing. And curb your foolishness, wenda. It will not prove profitable.”

He pulled me to him then and kissed me deeply, and then he had gestured to the other two men and led them off. Len and Garth looked at me strangely as they passed, but I was more concerned with Daldrin’s strangeness. Why had he kissed me like that? The question bothered me all the way back to my rooms, but I hadn’t found an answer even when I’d undressed and gotten into bed. I was tired enough to fall asleep immediately, but to add another strangeness it took quite some time before sleep came.