The Warrior Rearmed

2

Consciousness came back slowly and reluctantly, as though afraid to face again the pain it knew was waiting. I moaned as the ache welled up behind my closed eyes, making my head echo with the throb, vaguely wondering what it would be like if my shield weren’t closed tight. I became aware of a dampness across my forehead and fought my arm up to grope in an attempt to find out what it was, clumsily encountering a length of folded cloth. I began to pull the wet cloth away with a grunt, but another hand came to keep me from doing it.

“You’ll be better off leaving it there,” Len’s voice came, soft with the knowledge of what loud noises would do to me. “You may not think it’s helping, but it is.”

I forced my eyes open to look in the direction his voice came from, blinked back the blurriness, then finally managed to focus on him. He sat looking down at me from no more than a foot away, his brand-new sword gone, his face wearing a wry expression. Looking around showed me a silver and blue room, one of the rooms of the suite Tammad and I shared, definitely not the last sight I remembered before tuning out. It came to me then that I was lying on the wide pile of furs the barbarian and I used as a bed, with Len sitting on its edge to my right. My eyes flickered again to the rest of the room, searching for something I didn’t want to think about, and Len made a sound of subdued amusement.

“If you’re looking for Tammad, he’s in the next room,” my brother empath informed me, his voice as dry as the desert air. “Bite off a little more than we could chew, did we?”

His eyes and tone told me that his poor opinion of me was back in full force, but that was hardly unexpected. I closed my eyes and put an arm over them, then took a deep breath.

“I can’t decide whether I have a greater dislike for your old personality or your new one,” I told the darkness in a very soft croak, feeling the reverberation of every word. “Your new personality is unspeakably patient, but the old one gloats.”

“I’m not gloating,” he denied, trying to shed some of the dripping satisfaction in his voice. “I’m just wondering what you tried to do this time—and curious as to why it backfired.”

“What I tried to do was get that barbarian to take me back to the embassy,” I admitted, making no effort to keep the disgust out of my voice. “Not only didn’t it work, it also exploded in my face. As far as the why goes, your guess is as good as mine. Last time I looked, I was stronger than he was.”

“And this time he walked all over you,” Len agreed in a thoughtful voice. “If anyone had asked me, I would have bet against this sort of an outcome. Are you sure that’s all you did, try to force him into taking you back to the embassy?”

“Of course I’m sure,” I said in exasperation, pulling my arm away from my eyes so I could half-glare at him. “Even if I were into world conquest, this is hardly the world I’d want to conquer. All I want is to go somewhere where I’ll be left alone. Is that so much to ask?”

“I’m not the one in line for the question,” he said, suddenly trying not to look sympathetic. “Some men, like me, for instance, would let you go wherever you thought you had to, and then spend their time kicking themselves and worrying about you. Tammad belongs under a different heading, the one that reads, ‘We’ll work it out together.’ Why don’t you try remembering exactly what you said and did.”

I was tempted to accuse Len of avoiding my question, but my head hurt too much and it was fairly obvious that that was exactly what he was doing. Instead I dragged out the data on the episode I’d gone through with Tammad, including the details of his strange resistance, and gave them all to Len. His silence at the end of it gave me a chance to exercise some vestige of pain control on myself, which seemed to go a short way toward returning me to normal. I was able to get rid of the damp cloth and drag myself to sitting before Len pulled himself out of the deep thoughtfulness he’d fallen into.

“I think that may be it,” he muttered under his breath, looking at me with those pretty blue eyes. “In fact, I’m sure of it.—

“Well, I’m glad that’s settled.” I smiled, pushing back the dampened hair from my face. “Now let’s have a contest to see which of us can stand up straight first without falling.”

“Terry, stop being an idiot,” he snorted, surprising me by having-heard what I said. “I think I know what happened to make Tammad stronger than you, even though he really isn’t.”

“Scientific curiosity aside, Len, I’m not sure I want to know,” I said, looking away from him toward the windows. “I had exactly one advantage over Tammad, and now even that’s gone, right along with my last chance to get out of this place. What difference does it make why he beat me’? It won’t change the fact that he did.”

“Whys are more important than you seem to understand, Terry,” he said, putting his hand under my chin to turn my face back to him. His expression was more serious than was usual with him, but his eyes were warm with compassion. “I think Tammad was able to beat you at your own game because you weren’t simply trying to make him take you somewhere, you were trying to make him give you up. Hasn’t it come through to you yet that he loves you far too much to give you up?”

“That can’t possibly have anything to do with it,” I denied, disturbed over the idea. “You’ll see how deep his love goes when I refuse to help him with any more of his plans. And I didn’t ask him to give me up. I never would have presented so radical a concept with the sort of precarious hold I had on him. It would have been stupid.”

“Stupid comes in a variety of flavors,” Len answered, beginning to look impatient. “According to your own account, the first thing you told Tammad was that he wanted to take you back to the embassy. He obviously didn’t agree, but he also didn’t fight unreasonably hard. You weren’t satisfied with the reaction you were getting, so the next thing you told him was that he was foolish trying to keep you, and would be smart if he got rid of you as soon as possible. His reaction to that one should have told you that you’d gone too far, but instead of calming him and withdrawing, you had to add the crowning touch. You had to tell him he’d never see you again. I’m not surprised that he exploded; I’m surprised he didn’t blast you flatter than he did. With you wide open and him pouring out rage and fury, you’re lucky he didn’t burn you out completely. If you’d used your head, you would have known what his reaction would be without taking the risk of testing for it.”

“What do you mean, testing?” I demanded, suddenly suspicious of where his facile logic was taking me. “I was trying to get myself out of this place, not making nebulous and fatuous tests of some sort.”

“Sure you were,” he scoffed, leaning down to one elbow on the bed furs away from me. “Terry, when an ordinary woman tests a man’s desire for her, she uses words or actions to see what he’ll do. When a female empath tries the same thing, she shoves at his emotions to see how easily she can change them. You knew you would be wide open if he exploded, but you didn’t expect him to explode. You expected him to accept me and Garth and Gay in place of you, and expected the substitution to be easy. You tested him despite the danger of being burned out because you still don’t believe he really loves you.”

Len was staring directly at me, his eyes searching deeply as his mind poked at my shield, both trying to find a way within. I avoided his stare while ignoring the poking, then shrugged in an aimless sort of way.

“I’ve already told you how I feel about that,” I said, trying not to sound as defensive as I felt. “Everyone in sight keeps assuring me how great his love is, but all I know for sure is how I feel. And that has nothing to do with what he feels for me.”

“I don’t believe you can sit there and say that!” Len burst out, straightening again near my right shoulder. “After everything that man has done, how can you still doubt him?”

“What sort of everything are you talking about?” I asked, watching the billowing curtains at the window. “The way he kidnapped me, the way he refuses to let me go, the way he insists I obey him and beats me if I don’t’? Or maybe you mean the way he keeps trying to get me to work for him? Those last items really make me feel wanted and loved.”

His big hand came again to my face to turn it back to him, and I could see forced calm fighting with exasperation in his expression.

“How about the way he came after you to the Hamarda camp and here?” he asked, trying to keep from shouting. “Those Hamarda were ready to accuse him of slave stealing when they found you gone, but he didn’t care. He was ready to kill any or all of them who tried to keep him from following you immediately, and would have fought them single-handedly if the rest of us hadn’t calmed him down. By the time we got here, he was closer to being frantic than I’ve ever seen him. Instead of using the diplomacy he’s so good at to free you, he marched right in and up to that Aesnil woman and demanded your release. Only a man in love could have acted like such a damned fool.”

“Or a man desperate to regain an object of irreplaceable value,” I pointed out, this time holding his gaze. “If you’ve forgotten I’m a Prime, Len, he hasn’t.”

“Damn it, Terry, you’re making it all one way!” he shouted. “He’s been jumping around like a madman, but you insist on looking at him with your eyes closed! What about the way he’s been civilizing you, teaching you not to be such a spoiled brat? Doesn’t that show you he means to spend the rest of his life with you?”

I could feel myself stiffening in reaction to that comment, but Len didn’t notice it because he wasn’t able to reach my mind. I pulled a section of my gown out from under me, then moved a short way away from him.

“So that’s the way you see it, is it?” I asked icily. “Everything that that barbarian does to me is simply him civilizing me! Okay, Len, have it your own way. I’m nothing but a spoiled brat in need of adult teaching. But I think I’ve had enough of it for one day. Why don’t you take your maturity and get out of here.”

I slid off the bed and stood up, turning my back on my loyal brother as I walked toward the windows. It was amazing how everyone always found a good reason for the things Tammad did to me, but the things I did in return were invariably considered the tantrums of a child. I’d heard the contention so often, I was seriously considering believing it myself.

“Getting all huffy and offended won’t accomplish much, Terry,” Len’s voice came after me, annoyed rather than contrite. “It’s time you stopped acting like a sullen child and got around to making an adult commitment. The people of this world are offering you a life with meaning, and all you have to do to accept it is offer your abilities in exchange. Garth and I have already accepted; the longer you wait to do the same, the bigger the fool you make of yourself.”

I raised one hand to my head as I stared out through the moving curtains, wishing there were less heat and humidity in the breeze that rippled them. I still had enough of a headache to find the heaviness of the air painful, a dull pain which fit in perfectly with Len’s laughable suggestion. I knew all about the meaning of the life I was being offered, a meaning considerably different from the one Len and Garth saw. They’d found freedom on that world of barbarians, but they were men on a world run by men. I was nothing but a woman, a mere wenda, one whose sole purpose was to give pleasure and obedience and comfort to those men. Hand over the power of my abilities for the priceless gift of a life like that? Sure, why not.

“It’s comforting to know your stubbornness was undamaged by what you went through,” Len said dryly. “Tammad, especially, will be relieved to learn that. Ever since he found out you weren’t badly hurt, he’s been anxious to discuss your little experiment with you. You ought to find the time most absorbing—as well as instructional.”

I closed my eyes as I cursed feebly under my breath, half sick at the thought of having to face that barbarian. He’d punish me for trying to control him, as strictly and horribly as he always did. He continued to want to use my abilities as a Prime, but refused to accord me the privileges those abilities made mine by right. He violently resented the thought of being controlled in any way, most especially by the power of the mind. The thought of what he would do to me this time made swallowing difficult and weakened my knees. I hated myself for being such a coward, but he never failed to affect me that way.

“Terry, why do you keep fighting him?” Len demanded, but gently, from right behind me as his hand touched my shoulder. “You’re afraid of what he’ll do and you’re right to be afraid, but all he wants is to be gentle with you. His greatest joy is to share laughter and love with you, but you refuse to allow him that. He’s a man and you’re a woman; why can’t you relax and let nature take its course?”

I felt my head drop even lower than it had been, wishing it were as simple as Len was trying to make it. We weren’t discussing a man and a woman, we were discussing a barbarian and a Prime, a man who would use anyone and anything to achieve the goals he had set himself, and a woman who was tired of being used. Nature didn’t intervene in affairs like that; nature wouldn’t dare.

“I can see Tammad was right the way he usually is,” Len sighed, taking his hand off my shoulder. “He maintains that if a man and woman are right for each other, no one can prove it but they two. If it can be worked out, it’s now up to you and him. I’ll see you later.”

Len’s footsteps moved away from me across the floor, his bare feet whispering against the carpet as he made for the door. I was suddenly aware of the fact that I wasn’t wearing sandals any longer, and that foolish revelation somehow made me want to turn and call out to Len to keep him from going through that doorway. I was half turned and ready to call out when I realized that delaying the inevitable would not stop it from being inevitable. Tammad could not be kept a room away from me forever, not by any power then at my disposal. I turned completely back to the windows then and just stared out, waiting for the inevitable.

If I thought I’d have something of a wait, it didn’t take long to disillusion me. Len could barely have cleared the doorway when other feet, heavier feet, made their own sound across the carpeting coming in. Before I knew it he was standing right behind me, and I didn’t have to open my shield to know him. There was usually something electrical in the air when he was around, and that time was no different from any other.

“I see, wenda, that you have recovered,” he said after the briefest of hesitations, his voice filled with its usual calm. “You suffer from no other ill-effects, no hurt you have neglected to mention to Lenham?”

“I have a headache,” I answered, still not turning around. “Compared to the condition I’m usually in on this planet, that’s equivalent to being in the best of health. You needn’t worry that you’ll have to put off the beating.”

“Good,” he said, and his immediate agreement made my eyes widen. “When I might be able to beat you was, of course, my sole concern. ”

I snapped my head around to look up at him, but no expression showed on his rugged, masculine face. I opened my shield and probed at his mind, then wished I hadn’t. There was no light-hearted, good-natured humor behind his comment, just a thick, dark cloud of anger and more anger. I winced at the intensity and strength of it, and he slowly nodded his head.

“It is as I thought it could not be,” he said, folding his arms as he stared down at me. “Not only did you attempt the outrage of invading my thoughts, you now have the temerity to attempt the same again. Woman, does my rage mean nothing to you?”

“Touching your mind is like looking at you,” I answered in an unsteady voice. “If you don’t like it, of course I won’t do it again. ”

“Ah, you now understand that the action displeases me, and will therefore refrain from indulging in it,” he nodded, his eyes still not moving from my face. “How obedient a wenda you have become, and how easily the obedience was brought forth. I hesitate to estimate the length and breadth of your obedience when once you have been punished.”

A thrill of fear washed through me at that, but not the simple sort of fear brought on by the presence of a hungry predator or a danger-filled, imminent accident. The barbarian was worse than any predator, more dangerous than any accident, and he had just given me his word. I backed up right into the central window brace, my knees weaker than they had been, and his right hand shot out to my left arm to steady me.

“I hear no words from you, wench,” he said, his voice still as unwarmed as it had been. “Have you no interest in estimating how deep your obedience will be once you have been punished?”

“There’s really no need for that,” I quavered, stepping back, too aware of that giant-sized hand on my arm. “I am, after all, a civilized woman, and capable of understanding when I’ve committed a breach of etiquette. I’m sure you know you deserve an apology, a deeply sincere apology, one which will be immediately forth—”

“Silence,” he quietly interrupted, cutting off my half-hysterical babble, gently drawing me toward him. “There is no matter of etiquette between us, no matter so light and unimportant that simple words of apology will suffice. Once before you entered my mind unbidden, not to soothe or share but to tamper, and much did I believe that the punishment you received then was enough to keep you from attempting the same again. It appears I was mistaken, but will take care that the same mistake does not appear a second time. Should this current punishment not deter you, you have my word that I will see myself collared and sold as a wenda-graj. ”

Half-hysterics became full-blown panic, but shaking my head and stuttering incoherently didn’t keep me from being drawn gently but firmly away from the windows toward the middle of the room. If the barbarian promised to have himself sold as the equivalent of a ladies’ maid if I ever touched him mentally again once he was through with me, I might not even survive whatever he was going to do. At that point I wouldn’t have minded not surviving, but I was very much afraid that survival would be part of the punishment. I looked up at that massive body in front of me, looming like an avalanche in the making, the hard blue eyes unwavering, the face expressionless, and discovered how close it was possible to come to fainting from fright without actually doing it.

“Please don’t,” I begged in a whisper, pushing feebly and uselessly at his hand on my arm with my free hand. His grip wasn’t hurting me, he hadn’t even raised his voice, and those two facts together had me more desperate than almost anything else. “Please don’t punish me, please!” I begged. “I know I did wrong, more wrong than I can say, but I won’t do it again, I swear I won’t! I swear it!”

“I am well aware of that fact, wenda,” he said, turning toward the door as he pulled me along. “We will begin by having you cut and trim the switch to be used on you, and then, after the switching, there will be other things for you to do. Your punishment will consume much time in the giving, even more in the receiving.”

“No!” I choked, wild at the thought of those other beatings he had given me, ones where he hadn’t been nearly as angry as he was right then. In other frightening situations I had struck out with my mind, but just then such a reaction was impossible. I felt paralyzed in the very center of me where my talent lay, frozen and half dead and totally incapable. I couldn’t have struck at him even if my life had literally depended on it, or, even more importantly, my sanity.

“Wait, wait just a minute!” I babbled, suddenly realizing it was time to admit I had lost. “What I’ve said to you till now—I’ve changed my mind! I’ll do anything you want me to do—anything!”

He stopped that inexorable progress toward the door, and though he still held my arm, I could have fainted from relief. I’d have to work for him now, reading people and helping him influence them, but that was better than—I shuddered to think of it. He turned his face toward me, and it wore a faintly surprised expression.

“This is truly unexpected, wenda, this decision you have made,” he said, looking down at me. “I had not thought to see you moved from the stand you had taken. And yet; it occurs to me that I may not accept such a decision from you, for it would seem that you were coerced from your sworn word, which is a dishonorable act. I would not care to be thought of as dishonorable. ”

“No, no, coercion has nothing to do with it!” I assured him quickly, desperate to keep him from turning toward the door again. “The decision was freely made, based on an estimation of what was due you after my invasion of your privacy. It’s the least I can do.”

I looked up at him anxiously, wishing I had the nerve to peek at his mind, totally unable to tell what he was thinking from the expressionlessness he had slipped back into. He thought about what I’d said for a minute, then nodded his head.

“Very well,” he said. “As the decision was freely made, I shall accept it. You will now do exactly as I wish.”

“That’s right,” I agreed, relieved that the bargain was accepted and completed. “I know your plans for unifying your people call for the assistance of an empath, and now you’ve finally got one where you want her. So where shall I begin? With Cinnan and Aesnil? It won’t be easy, but I’m sure I can do it. Cinnan already feels brotherly toward you—so—”

My words trailed off and died, due entirely to the fact that he was slowly shaking his head. I couldn’t understand what he was disagreeing with, unless I had his objectives in the wrong order.

“I hope you don’t mean you want to return to the Hamarda first,” knowing my expression showed the distaste I was feeling. “Being there with you won’t be the same as being there alone with them, but I don’t know how well I can handle my own emotions in the middle of . . . .”

“Wenda, I have no knowledge of what you speak,” he interrupted, his voice and eyes oddly free of confusion. “The need I have for one the power is no longer a need, for Lenham sees to it. You have denied me the use of your power, greatly disturbed over the matter, therefore I do honor your denial. I shall not again set such tasks to your hand.”

“But—then—what have we been talking about?” I asked, honestly puzzled and definitely uneasy. “Aside from my abilities, what else is there?”

“Such a question seems foolish to one who is able to look upon you,” he answered, letting his eyes move over me in that intrusive, possessive way he had. “You will do exactly as I wish—in all things.”

“But—that wasn’t what I meant!” I protested in shock, unconsciously trying to take a step back from him as my eyes widened. Somehow I’d managed to forget that he was still holding my arm; stepping back didn’t take me very far.

“It matters little what thing was in your mind, wenda.” He shrugged, holding me easily less than an arm’s length from him. “It was in all things that you pledged yourself in obedience, therefore is the choice of area mine Should you wish to attempt the reclaiming of your word, we may discuss the matter after the first of your punishment is done.”

“No!” I said immediately, then calmed somewhat when I saw he wasn’t beginning to move toward the door again. “No, a discussion later won’t be necessary. We made a bargain and I’ll hold to it.”

“Excellent,” he commented in distant approval, finally letting go of my arm. I reached over and rubbed at the place even though I didn’t have to, reflecting that I had been extremely fortunate. After all, what could he ask me to do that I hadn’t already done in the past?

“It pleases me, wenda, that there is to be no delay in the eager service I am to receive from you,” he said, folding his arms as he looked down at me. “There has been little from you in the way of eagerness of late, not to speak of service. The difficulty you insisted upon would not have been permitted much longer in any event; seeing to it now merely ends an unpleasant episode sooner than expected.”

I parted my lips to argue his distorted version of recent happenings, prepared to bitterly defend my position, but his right hand snapped up, silencing me with surprise.

“No words!” he growled, his distant approval and satisfaction long gone. “I have had too many words from you of late, all of which have done no more than convince you you might disobey me with impunity! You may not speak again till you have my permission to do so!”

I closed my mouth again with a snap, angry that he would dare speak to me that way, but determined to see the thing through. Silence he wanted, and silence he would get.

“Better,” he grudged with a slow nod, refolding his arms. “You now pout as would a berated child, yet is it done in silence. Let us continue further to the point of eagerness and service. ”

He stepped closer then and put his arms around me, but not to hold me. His hands tugged the gown sleeves off my shoulders, urged the whole thing down to my waist, then let it go to fall to the floor around my feet. My first reaction had been to consider holding onto the gown and not letting it be taken, but that would have been foolish. It was hardly the first time the barbarian had stripped me naked, and I could still think of no way in which he might be stopped. After a first, abortive movement I merely stood there, telling myself the action meant nothing, but still feeling the discomfort of embarrassment in my cheeks.

“Considerably more acceptable,” he said, stepping back to look at me again. “The sight of a woman in his bands gives a man great pleasure. Step entirely out of the garment and give it to me.”

I frowned as I reached down and picked up the gown, not understanding why my doing such a silly thing was beginning to give him such intense pleasure that it crowded at my mind. I had the gown taken from my hand, watched him walk to the window with it, then watched him toss it out. The gown had a long way to fall before it hit the ground, but it didn’t take nearly that long before I understood what was happening. I had dressed myself in that gown that morning, a gown that had been given to me by Aesnil. It had now been permanently taken away from me, and whatever clothing I had in the future would undoubtedly be given me by Tammad. The gesture made me feel more stripped naked and dependent than I had in a long while, and when the barbarian turned back from the window, he must have seen it in my expression. He smiled faintly, satisfaction joining pleasure, then went to the pile of cushions and sat himself among them, next to a small wooden table holding a tray.

“Why do you stand with your hands before you?” he asked me, the amusement in his voice stinging terribly. “Come and place yourself before me, your arms at your sides, so that I may have the pleasure of looking upon my belonging.”

It took a great effort to force myself to motion, an even greater effort to put my arms down. When I stopped in front of him, the whirling of my emotions was nearly enough to make me dizzy. I didn’t want to be looked at like that, like nothing more than a barbarian’s possession, like something to be owned and used! The presence of the bands on me, around my wrists and ankles and throat, was pure indignity, tightening my hands into fists at my sides.

“Again I see nothing of eagerness in you,” he said, annoyed. “It is clearly foolish to be patient with you, wenda, for patience does no more than encourage your disobedience. Be informed that my patience is now at an end. Kneel before me.”

I felt another frown take me as I slowly went to my knees in front of him, seeing the anger in his eyes and feeling it push against me. He was unhappy with the way I was reacting to being put on display, but what else did he expect? He stared at me briefly from the cross-legged position he had taken among the cushions, and then his hand flashed out to take me painfully by the hair.

“Again I feel the tendrils of your mind slipping close to mine!” he growled, ignoring the gasp of shock and pain torn from me. “Though to you it is ostensibly the same as looking upon me, to me it is unconscionable invasion. It seems you require a more constant reminder to induce proper behavior. Kneel and bow in the manner you were taught among the Hamarda. ”

My fists flew to my forehead as his hand forced my head to the carpeting, my heart thudding loud enough to be heard at the other end of the room. I hadn’t been probing him, merely picking up the strongest of his emotions, but I couldn’t have told him that even if he hadn’t insisted on my silence. Being defiant when he wasn’t angry seemed to come naturally to me, just as naturally as fright when he was angry. No, it wasn’t simply fright that I felt, though fright was a part of it; the emotion was much more complex, and I couldn’t seem to resolve it. I heard him stand up and walk away from the cushions, pause somewhere else in the room, then return.

“I will have eager service from you, wenda, and I will have it now,” he said, sitting down among the cushions again. “Should I find myself displeased with your service, you will be immediately punished. Raise yourself again so that you are merely kneeling. ”

I straightened myself again as he had commanded, flinching away from the renewed calm he was projecting. He was too close, and his mind was too strong, for me to be able to stay away from him completely. I decided I had to explain the problem no matter what he had said about my not speaking, but sight of what he was holding put the words right out of my mind.

“This cloth about your eyes will keep memory of required obedience clearly before you,” he said, finishing up the folding of the dark cloth in his hands. That, in itself, was bad enough, but the length of thick leather on the cushion to his right made things considerably worse.

“You can’t be serious!” I blurted, staring in horror at the cloth and leather. “Tammad, this is all insanity! I can understand your being angry and wanting to punish me, but can’t you see how useless this all is? Things will never be the way you want them to be, no matter what you do to me! Blindfolding me and then tying me the way the Hamarda did won’t change any of the important things standing between us, the things that will always keep us apart! None of this is from my world, none of it something I can relate to! Please let me go back to my people!”

He stared at me in silence for a moment. The words I had spoken were true representatives of the way I felt, and he seemed to know that. I’d tried playing the game his way, tried easing the feelings of invasion he’d had, but it had all been for nothing. There was a certain point beyond which I couldn’t go without being truly humiliated, and that was it. His stare and silence stretched out a bit longer, then his hands came to my arms to draw me gently into his lap.

“Terril, though the difficulty seems truly great for you, you must strive to understand and accept the realities about you,” he said, his soft voice calm. “You cannot be returned to your people for you are already among your people, here on Rimilia. You are my belonging and will remain so, therefore must you learn to obey me properly. This matter of your agreement to do as I wish was merely idle foolishness, merely a manner in which I might measure the depth of your failure to understand what place you stood in. You will obey me whether there is agreement within you or not, wenda, for only through obedience will you survive here if I do not. Should another take you and band you, he will not feel the patience my love for you brings far too often than is wise. I will not see your life lost through lack of proper action on my part.”

He turned me around in his lap then, ignoring the stumbling, tongue-tied arguments I tried to put forward, then placed the dark cloth around my eyes. I didn’t understand what was going on, didn’t want to understand, but when the dark cloth cut off all light and vision the understanding began to creep up on me, until I thrust it away again. He was wrong about where I belonged and about obedience and survival, and what did he mean by saying he might not live? What did he know about his meeting with Daldrin that he wasn’t telling me? He tightened the blindfold with an extra knot, pulling my hair slightly, leaving me with no more awareness of things than that and the bare thigh my own bare flesh rested upon. I felt again as though I were falling through empty air, helpless in the grip of gravity, and reached up to tear the blindfold away. Instead of reaching the cloth, however, my hands reached only his.

“You may not remove it,” he said, his hands everywhere that my hands tried to go. “You must also learn not to impose with your powers, for that sooner than any other thing will end your life. Your reality is here, hama, among those who are larger and stronger than you. You must learn quickly, else you will find no other thing than punishment.”

I shook my head; about to protest what he’d said, but I wasn’t given the chance. The hands that had kept me from removing the blindfold were suddenly at my waist, lifting me from the thigh I sat on and placing me belly-down over the other. I struggled, not knowing what was happening, but a big hand in the middle of my back kept me from rising again.

“You were also mistaken in believing I intended to do as the Hamarda,” he said, his mind throwing off the distaste of the suggestion. “I do not bind females in leather, merely do I punish them with it for the disobediences they commit. I shall take care not to bring further harm to your back, yet must you recall that you were instructed to remain silent.

I barely had time to understand and believe that he was going to punish me before the first stroke came, sharp and stinging, across my bottom. Five strokes came in all, five hard, measured, punishing strokes with the strength of his arm behind them, each one causing me to cry out in pain. Tears welled under the blindfold and wet the cloth, tears that would have otherwise run down my cheeks. He was actually punishing me, and despite the fact that he had done it before, I found myself shocked. Didn’t he know I was the one who had helped him survive Aesnil’s arena? Didn’t he realize I was growing stronger every day? When he was done he lifted me off his thigh and set me back on the carpeting on my knees, and then his hand came to my chin to raise my face.

“This time your punishment was light, hama,” he said, undoubtedly watching as I rubbed at the stinging ache in my bottom. “Should you disobey again the punishment will be greater, and of longer duration. The switch is not the sole implement capable of teaching you your place. Do you understand?”

I bobbed my head spasmodically, still sniffling, hating myself for not daring to say a word. I didn’t want to obey him, but he was going to make me do it anyway.

“Good,” he said, taking his hand back as I heard him shift around on the cushions. “I presume that this tray of food here was brought for the two of us, but I have as yet to sample from it. Have you eaten?”

This time I shook my head, not even certain I knew what tray of food he meant. I’d seen a tray on the small table near the cushions, but I hadn’t the faintest idea when it had been brought or what it contained.

“I find myself scarcely surprised,” he said, his tone going dry as he shifted in place again. “Despite my constant urgings to the contrary, your interest in food continues poor at best. With this consideration, as well as my present hunger, in mind, I shall permit you to feed me first.”

I nearly blurted out my surprised dismay in words, catching myself just in time to avoid that leather. I was supposed to feed him while I was blindfolded? How was I supposed to find the food—or him?

“Take each serving carefully from the tray so that it does not spill,” he instructed, his attention so clearly on me that I could feel it. “I wish to eat the food, not have it draped about me.”

His faint amusement took nothing away from the implied threat—or promise—and I sniffled again as I crawled slowly across the carpeting, one hand groping blindly for the location of the tray. A small voice inside me urged me to refuse to serve him, to stand up and pull the blindfold off and then walk out of the room with my head high, but that small voice was insane. If I tried to refuse him he would catch me and beat me again, a lot harder than he had the first time. The humiliation of crawling around on the carpeting was terrible, but the humiliation of being beaten was worse—and more painful.

Just as I thought I’d never find the tray my hand touched it, banging the wood and rattling some of the bowls. I steadied it quickly and pulled myself closer, then rose up on my knees to grope for the first of the bowls. I took it off slowly, two-handed, to make sure I didn’t spill or drop it, and then jumped and gasped when fingers came out of the dark to touch my breast.

“Gently,” the barbarian’s voice cautioned, a faint hum beginning in his mind. “The contents of that bowl were nearly spilled. Do you wish another taste of the leather?”

I shook my head convulsively even as I shuddered, the fingers on my flesh sending tremors through me. He couldn’t touch me now, not when I had to be so careful! It wasn’t fair!

“Now you must find where I am,” he said, blessedly withdrawing his hand. I took a deep, raggedly uneven breath and reached out with my right hand, slowly and carefully searching for his face. My fingers first encountered his chest, hard and hair-covered, then slid up to his strong, corded neck. Above that was his chin and cheek, and when I reached them I, too, was reached. I gasped a second time and straightened uncontrollably at the touch between my thighs.

“Ah, melon wedges!” he observed, pretending that he looked in the bowl rather than at my violently shaking head as his fingers explored me. “They are properly for the end of the meal, yet have I developed a fondness for them in my short time here. You may begin with them.”

With that the touch was gone as suddenly as it had come, leaving me shaking and desperate to cover myself all over. All I could see was darkness and more darkness; being touched like that, without warning, made me feel more helpless than I ever had in my life. It was as though dozens of people stood about, any of whom might touch me without my knowing who it was. I couldn’t stand being done that way—but also couldn’t think of a way to stop it.

I could feel my arm trembling as I took one of the wedges and reached it toward him, but his teeth took it from my fingers without anything else happening. I fed him a second wedge and then a third, but when I reached out with a fourth, his hand was at my thighs again.

“You have lost the proper direction,” he told my gasp, the hum in his mind making it worse. “I do not care to stretch my neck to reach the wedges. Try again.”

This time the touch didn’t disappear, not until I’d found where he was again and had fed him the wedge. By the time I was down to the last two wedges, I’d been touched twice more and was a nervous wreck. He kept me from feeding him the last two wedges by feeding them to me, and they were more distasteful than I could possibly have imagined. Being deprived of sight is supposed to heighten the other senses, but I didn’t find a new, deeper flavor in the normally tasty wedges. I couldn’t rid myself of worry over what he was really feeding me, to find any enjoyment in the things at all.

“I will now have the spiced meat chunks,” he announced after the last of the melon wedges was in my mouth. I managed to find the tray again by the time I had finished chewing, but had to resort to sniffing before I located the bowl with meat chunks. My success was rewarded with two hands of fingers at my breasts, and the meat chunks would have ended on the carpeting if he hadn’t grabbed the bowl and steadied it. His chuckling was like a file across raw and bloody nerves, and I half wished that I had dropped the bowl. His caresses were beginning to be more painful than pain, and I didn’t know how much more I could take.

Unsurprisingly, I didn’t last beyond less than half the meat chunks. The more concerned I became about locating the barbarian’s position accurately, the worse I did. His hands were on me almost constantly, one between my thighs, the other on my knee, or side, or breast or neck. I had been reduced to whimpering, needing him so badly I was almost ready to beg, and then he broke me completely. His toying fingers suddenly thrust deep within me, tearing a moan from my throat as indescribable sensations coursed through my body. I dropped the bowl and threw myself on him, finding hard-muscled arms under my hands and a hair-covered chest under my face. I kissed at him and thrust my body at him, mewling and begging without words to be taken. I was sure he’d been waiting for that, waiting until I begged before taking me, and was more than ready to be taken. Considering that, I couldn’t understand why his hands suddenly came to my arms, forcing me away from him.

“Forshame, wenda!” he said sternly, shaking me enough to stop my struggles. “Is this the way in which you see to the feeding of he to whom you belong’? By throwing down the food he wished to consume? By blatantly and deliberately disobeying? You must be taught better.”

No! I screamed, but only inside as he draped me over his thigh again. Outside I was crying, sobbing against the punishment he would give and the way he had tricked me. He’d been waiting all right, but not for me to beg to be used. He’d been waiting for me to ignore his orders and do as I pleased, just as I usually did. He’d let me get away with it more than once, but that time I didn’t get away with it. The first stroke of the leather was the first of eight, harder than the first five and with more anger behind them. I was screaming by the third and hysterical by the eighth, and not only because of the pain. He wasn’t going to let me do anything out of the way, and the humiliating punishment had been designed to teach me that. It was something I didn’t want to learn, but that wasn’t about to stop him.

This time when I was placed back on my knees, he held onto my wrists with one big hand. The tears were streaming down my face despite the cloth, and I choked on a sob when he touched me again, deeply and possessively, proving that even the beating hadn’t destroyed my need. He then let go of my wrists and thrust a bowl into my hands, a bowl that smelled of fried meat strips and vegetables. Wordlessly, still sobbing, I put my fingers into the bowl and carefully fed him, as completely cowed as he undoubtedly wanted me to be. It was his wishes and needs which were important, not mine, and I had been taught that the hard way.

He finished the meat and vegetables to the last, also finishing two other dishes, one a roast fowl garnished with nuts, the second a grain pudding of some sort. My fingers were sticky and my arm ached from constantly being raised, and my insides were beginning to rumble with emptiness. I’d been given nothing beyond the two melon wedges, and I didn’t have to ask why. My portion of the meal lay on the carpeting where I’d thrown it, handily available if I got hungry enough. I grew ill at the thought of his insisting that I eat it, knowing I would throw it up again if I had to stuff it down, but he spared me that. He poured himself a goblet of wine, the tangy smell of it making me faintly dizzy, then relaxed back among the cushions with a sigh of contentment.

Without having any more bowls to handle, there was nothing for me to do but kneel where I was, listening and thinking and feeling. My knees and bottom hurt, my insides throbbed and burned, I felt sticky and naked and so badly used that I couldn’t stop the tears welling in my covered eyes. It didn’t matter whether I deserved the punishments I’d been given or not; I felt so miserable from them that I didn’t know what to do. He had blindfolded me, and punished me twice, and made me want him so badly I could have died. Now he had left me entirely alone in the darkness he had forced on me, alone and empty and unwanted. That was what I felt the most, unwanted. Nobody wanted me except to use me, and I still couldn’t believe he was any different. He may have had Len, but Len wasn’t a Prime.

“Wenda, why have you begun weeping again?” he asked, touching my face so suddenly that I jumped and lost control due to the startlement. A large, ugly corner of the misery and desolation I was feeling flared out at him, causing him to cringe inside and grunt aloud from the impact before I had it under control again. His hands fumbled clumsily at my arms, as though he were fighting to keep from shuddering or trembling, and then he had gathered me to him, holding me tight against his chest. I lay unmoving in his arms while he fought his twisting emotions, doing nothing to help him regain the calm he struggled for. It was a hard struggle, but his will was too strong for his own emotions to deny him for long. He gained control, and then he gained calm, and then his hand came to stroke my hair.

“Ah, wenda, what am I to do with you?” he sighed, holding me tight with one arm while he stroked my hair with the other. “It is my duty to teach you obedience and proper behavior, yet when I do so you become like a small child, bewildered and desolated by a punishment you have no understanding of. When I recall this and withhold punishment from you, you view the lenience as an attempt to coax the use of your powers from you, and grow bolder in your defiance. How am I to deal with you?”

I didn’t know what he was talking about and I didn’t want to know; I just kept trying to ignore how his holding me made me feel. I could have been so happy belonging to him, so happy just being held in his arms. Instead I had to be a political pawn, traded and fought for and bought and sold and used! The sobs joined the tears then, shaking me deeply, and his upset came so close to breaking out of his control that he nearly crushed me. He didn’t have to guess at what I was feeling, he knew, beyond doubt and beyond argument, and he was having trouble coping with it. I snapped my shield closed and buried my face in his chest, retreating deep inside until I could cope with it myself. He held me for quite some time, his stiffness and uneven breathing telling me almost as clearly as reading that he was making no progress in controlling himself, and he finally had to admit it. His hands went to the blindfold and pulled it off me, his lips came to my hair very briefly, then he was up on his feet and striding away, to the doorway and through it. I blinked back the glare of bright sunlight as I watched the door close, then slowly lowered my cheek to the carpeting. I didn’t know where he was going, and I didn’t have enough strength left to care.

It has never failed to amaze me how someone else’s energy expenditures can drain your energy if you watch them when you’re tired. It could not have been more than two minutes after Tammad left that the door opened again, admitting Len and Garth. The determination in their expressions fairly screamed of battle to come, an involvement I wasn’t anywhere near up to. I pulled a few cushions closer to me to do what I could about my nakedness, then resolutely turned my face away from their advance.

“Don’t turn away like that, Terry,” Len growled, rapidly closing the gap between us. “It won’t do you any good! I want to know what you did to Tammad!”

What I did to Tammad. I seriously considered raising my head to look at Len as if he were crazy, but it wasn’t worth the effort. My looking at him would not have turned him sane. So far Garth hadn’t said anything, but his churning confusion told me he was more than ready to add his oar. Garth R’Hem Solohr was an Alderanean, tall and broad-shouldered and dark-haired, a Kabran Colonel and a member of one of the oldest families on Alderan. Being a Kabran he was also a military man, as well versed in the art military as are all Kabrans, who make up more than sixty percent of the Alderan population. Tammad had brought him to Rimilia with a specific purpose in mind, but I hadn’t yet found out what that purpose was. Unless it was to join Len in bothering the life out of me, an achievement they weren’t far from accomplishing. Len stopped a foot away from me on my right, but Garth the military tactician moved around to my left, accomplishing encirclement with very little effort. I sighed to myself and considered putting the blindfold back on, but wasn’t given the chance to do so even if I had decided on it.

“You heard me, Terry,” Len snapped, looming over me. “What did you do to Tammad?”

“I beat him unmercifully,” I mumbled into the carpeting, closing my eyes. “He begged and pleaded, but it did him absolutely no good. He earned a beating and he got it.”

“Well, somebody got it,” Garth put in, and a minute later I jumped at the touch of his hand on my bottom. He was crouched down next to me, inspecting the results of what Tammad had done, feeling absolutely no compassion at the sight.

“Maybe Terry would like a few more stripes to join those,” Len suggested as he also crouched down, adding his own light touch to Garth’s. “We’ll both be glad to arrange it, Terry. All you have to do is continue being stubborn.”

“Len, Garth, you’re hurting me!” I gasped, finding it impossible to crawl away from them without dislodging the cushions I’d arranged so quickly. “Please stop touching me!”

“We’ll stop as soon as you tell us what we want to know,” Len answered ruthlessly, aware of the full agreement visible in Garth’s mind. “Tell us what you did to Tammad.”

“I didn’t do anything to him!” I answered in desperation, taking care not to squirm. “He did to me, just as he always does! Please let go!”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Len pursued, neither of them moving an inch. “Tammad’s emotions were totally out of control, so far out that I nearly didn’t recognize him. He told us to take care of you, then just about ran out of the apartment. What could have caused that?”

“I don’t know!” I insisted, then yelped as Garth leaned harder. My tone had annoyed him, and he was just short of replacing the touch with a smack.

“I think you’d better tell us everything that happened,” Len decided, shifting from his crouch to a sitting position next to me. “Go through all of it, and don’t leave anything out.”

Len had taken his hand back, but Garth still had full possession of my embarrassment, which left me very little choice. I told them everything that had happened, getting swatted only once, very early on, when I tried to close my mind to Len’s probing. If my narrative hadn’t been open to immediate verification I would have glossed over certain parts, but my tormentors refused to allow that. They had grown impossible to deal with, and at the end of it I lay belly down between them, Garth’s hand on my thigh, Len’s hand toying with a lock of my hair, both of them ignoring the mist of tears in my eyes as they discussed the mystery.

“I still don’t see what could have disturbed him so deeply,” Len said, vexed and not bothering to hide it. “He was doing so well with her. Why did he stop?”

“Maybe she didn’t tell us everything,” Garth suggested, stroking my thigh in an absentminded way. “Whatever was left out would have to be the reason.”

“She told us everything she knows,” Len disagreed, moving one finger down to touch the swell of my breast. “That whack you gave her did more than force her shield back open. It won’t last permanently, but right now she has us in Tammad’s class, and she doesn’t dare lie to him. If only she hadn’t closed her shield when she did.”

“Please, can I get up now?” I asked in a very small voice, appalled and nearly in shock over the way I was reacting to them. Sarcasm was my usual mode with these two Centran men I’d known so long, but somehow they’d managed to intimidate me. After the session I’d had with Tammad I shouldn’t have been surprised; he always intimidated me enough to last a good long while.

“I think you’d better take care of her,” Len said to Garth, withdrawing his hand and moving away a bit. “Tammad was specific about that, and I can see how badly she needs it. I’m not in the mood right now to do her much good.”

“Even I can see what’s bothering her,” Garth chuckled, squeezing the thigh he held. “Tammad got her all ready, then decided to go for a walk. Maybe he’s paying her back for doing the same thing to him with Gay.”

“She already paid for that,” Len laughed, reaching over to run the back of his hand down my cheek. “She must have screamed loud enough to deafen rocks when he switched her for it. You did a lot of standing up after that, if I recall correctly, Terry. ”

“Len, Garth, please let me go,” I begged, looking down at the carpeting in front of me as the tears ran down my cheeks. I couldn’t seem to find the nerve to look up at them, and I was afraid of what they would do.

“Terry, Tammad wants you taken care of,” Garth chided gently, his hand gone from my thigh. “Are you going to disobey Tammad and refuse to do as he wishes?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head vigorously, making sure they knew I wouldn’t disobey. The last thing I would do was disobey, but I was still frightened.

“Although you’ve done some pretty rotten things to us, I know you’re a good girl,” Garth said in a warm, approving voice, and I heard a stir, as though he were lying down next to me. “You’re going to obey Tammad, and you’re going to obey me. Open your eyes now, and come closer so that I can hold you. ”

I opened my eyes to see that he had indeed put himself on the carpeting next to me, among the cushions, but he was no longer wearing his haddin. I trembled as I inched closer to him, and the stream of tears from my eyes increased.

“Oh, now why are you crying, good girl?” he asked gently as he took me in his arms, smiling down at me. “Good girls shouldn’t cry when they’re being good.”

“I’m naked,” I sniffled, looking up at him only because his hand was under my chin. “I’m naked, and you’re looking at me, and I’m afraid of what you’re going to do.”

“Yes, you are naked,” Garth chuckled, deliberately looking at every part of me. “You’re beautifully naked, and if you were mine I would keep you this way most of the time. Would you like that?”

“No!” I wept, burying my face against his chest. “I’d hate it! I’d hate it!”

“But you’d still do it,” he said, running one hand over me very slowly. “You’d do it or you’d regret it. Tell me why you’d do it, Terry.”

“I’d do it to keep from regretting it,” I sobbed, feeling terrible all over. “Please don’t look at me.”

“Oh, but I enjoy looking at you,” he laughed, stopping the movement of his hand at my thighs. “I enjoy looking at you and so does Len, and so does every man around here. But what I enjoy more is touching you. You’re trying to keep me out, Terry, and you know what happens to bad girls. Relax your leg muscles. ”

“Please don’t do anything to me,” I begged, immediately obeying him. “Garth, please don’t—Oh! Ohhh!”

I suddenly felt as though I were on fire, shuddering and airless and dying. Garth held me to him with one arm as I choked and struggled, his laughter low but deeply amused.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything done to you, Terry?” he murmured, looking down at me. “Give me a kiss now, and think about the question.”

I quickly raised my lips to him, and his kiss cut off the sobs escaping me. The kiss was hard and insistent, almost ruthless, and it made me feel worse than I had before. I writhed against him, tortured and teased by his hand till I thought I would die, but I didn’t dare end the kiss until he was ready to end it. He tasted me deeply with his lips and tongue, over and over, and then finally, at long last, moved away again.

“Well, have you decided?” he asked, his light eyes dancing as he looked down at me. “Now, wait another minute before answering, and then tell me your decision.”

I writhed helplessly as I waited that extra minute, not wanting to speak but knowing I had no choice. Then, forcing the words, I choked, “I do want something done to me, Garth, but not by you! Not by you!”

“You want Tammad,” he said, still smiling pleasantly. “I know that, Terry, but Tammad asked me to take his place. Now I’d like you to ask me the same.”

“I—want you to—take Tammad’s place,” I whispered, saying the words not only because I had to. I was slowly but definitely beginning to feel a terrible need for Garth, one that would soon be beyond control.

“And so I will, Terry,” he laughed, kissing me lightly and quickly. “But first I want you to stand up and show Len and me your body, with nothing to hide our view. Go ahead, and wiggle a little.”

I scrambled to my feet with a sob, dying from embarrassment and need, but they had to see my body. I showed it to them, around and around three times, my arms up above my head and bent at the elbows, my cheeks wetter and wetter. Garth lay at his ease and grinned, but Len did nothing more than stare at me with a sheen of sweat on his forehead. At last Garth gestured me back to his side, put me flat on the floor, then began tasting me. I screamed so loud he finally stopped, separated my thighs with his hands, then plunged deep within me. I screamed again, at the presence of blessed relief-to-be, then immediately found myself overwhelmed. Len was in my mind, sharing it with Garth, taking everything there was as Garth took all my body had. It went on a very long time, draining every ounce of strength within me, and when Garth finally withdrew and moved away I curled into a ball on its way to being sound asleep. As I fell asleep I heard laughter, but I didn’t know what it was about nor cared.