The Warrior Rearmed

7

Dallan, the monster, refused to allow me time to brood or dwell on should-have-beens. I had been banded as his and would think only of him, or at least that’s what I was told. I wanted to lie still and ask the unanswering air why Tammad had never gone through the rite of five-banding the way Dallan had, but my new owner had other ideas. I lay curled on my left side, facing away from him, but suddenly found myself being pulled over onto my back so the l’lenda above me might look at me more easily. Angrily I struck at his face with both fists, expecting the useless gesture to be ignored as usual, suddenly shocked when my blows landed against his nose and in his right eye, sending him back with a shout of surprised pain. I sat up quickly with both hands to my mouth, horrified at what I had done, watching as he sat and cradled his eye and nose in his hands, a disbelieving tinge to his thoughts. When he finally looked over at me I was already edging away across the carpet fur, about five feet from him. I squeaked in alarm when he began crawling after me with dark determination in his thoughts, but shifting to crawling myself didn’t do more than delay the inevitable. As fast as I crawled, he crawled faster, finally getting close enough to put a big hand on my ankle. I cried out when he caught me, wishing I’d gotten to my feet and run instead of crawling like an infant, but I knew why I hadn’t. As big as he was on all fours he was still bigger upright, and somehow I thought it would go harder for me if I was caught with both of us erect. How true that was I’d never know; it was hard enough on all fours.

Dallan wasn’t anywhere near furiously angry, but that didn’t mean I had the nerve to struggle when he caught me. I shook my head desperately when he pulled me back to him, wishing I could say it had been an accident, wishing I could say it was his fault for not protecting himself. I was trying to think of something I could say, afraid to imagine what he would do to me, wasting time picturing those big fists crashing into my body or face. I call imagining being severely beaten that way a waste of time simply because with l’lendaa such as Dallan it was. There are worse things they can do to punish insolence, and Dallan chose one of them.

With very little effort I was draped over his knees, but I wasn’t held down. I felt the ridiculously tiny silk skirt being lifted away, my bottom was patted, and then the first smack came. I jumped at the sting and writhed in humiliation, feeling so miserable I wanted to cry. Dallan knew there was no need to hold me down, that I didn’t have the nerve to try getting away, but that wasn’t the reason why I wasn’t being restrained. It was part of my punishment to have to lie face down across his lap, with nothing holding me there, simply accepting the humiliation he gave. If he had really hurt me I could have found fury to brace myself with, but he didn’t hurt me. He merely punished me one smack at a time, putting enough strength into it to let me know I was being punished, taking it slow with the thought that we had all day. He may have all day, but after the fifth whack, I began growing desperate.

By the time it was over there were tears running down my cheeks, and not only from the ache I’d been given. The punishment had already been well begun when a knock came at the door, followed by the sound of the door being opened. In utter, chasm-deep embarrassment I began shifting out of that humiliating position, not caring what was done to me afterward as long as no one was there to witness it, but I’d forgotten the decision wasn’t mine to make. Suddenly there was a fist tangled in my hair, not painful as long as I lay still, and the punishment was continuing, somewhat harder than it had been when begun. I cried out in misery when the amusement crowded at my mind, coming from the woman who had entered, the one who had been the first of the three during my bathing. She laughed aloud from behind me, gleefully approving, then moved closer.

“I bring your midday meal, drin Dallan, and that of your weerees as well,” she said. “Do you wish me to serve it?”

“Not at the moment, Ladir,” Dallan answered, still swinging his arm. “I now attend to a necessary chore, one which will be some time in ending. This one will serve me when I wish to be served.”

“And eagerly,” the woman Ladir laughed, while I moaned to myself over that “some time in ending” comment. “The red in her pretty, rounded seat will assure you of that. Do you wish me to fetch a strap?”

“No.” The monster chuckled as I hid my face in my hands, blushing fit to burn out a circuit. “Should I require a strap, I will send this one to fetch it. You may go now.”

“As you will, my Drin,” the woman answered, taking the earlier tray with her. I was crying hard by then, more than miserable, but the punishment continued only another minute or two. Abruptly it stopped, and the fist was withdrawn from my hair.

“I suddenly find myself interested in what is held by that tray,” Dallan mused, almost to himself. “Shall I continue with what I currently do, or have I one about who will serve me eagerly?”

“I will serve you!” I choked out immediately, willing to do anything to get vertical again. If I’d begun feeling intimidated by him that morning, by then the process was nearly complete.

“Excellent,” he said, the laughter in his mind surrounding me to suffocation. “Rise, then, and begin serving me.”

I struggled to my feet without looking at him, hurried to the tray to get a bowl of spiced meat strips garnished with nuts and vegetables, then went back to the tray after delivering the bowl, under orders to bring a goblet of wine. I held the wine goblet while my owner ate, kneeling in front of him, my eyes and head down, relinquishing the wine only when he wanted to sip it, or when he was ready for the next course. It still amazed me how much those men ate without getting fat, a thought I held to as I stared at the beautifully decorated golden goblet in my hands. It was painful thinking about the serving I was doing, as though I were a slave, beaten down and terrified of what would happen if I did something wrong. I wasn’t exactly beaten down and I wasn’t exactly terrified, but I was so ashamed of myself that I couldn’t stand it. I was a coward for letting myself be browbeaten into obeying, but I couldn’t face that punishment again. I glanced up at Dallan where he sat and ate, found his eyes on me as his mind hummed, and quickly looked down again, hating myself even more. He couldn’t have done that to me if I hadn’t let him, but I couldn’t seem to find it in me to argue the point.

When Dallan was through eating it was my turn. The last thing I wanted just then was to eat, but my preferences didn’t matter. I brought the bowl to my owner, had him approve the dish, then stuffed it down while he watched. I was just finishing up the third selection, some sort of fowl in a thick sauce, wondering where I would put any more, when the bowl was taken out of my hands. I looked up to see Dallan reaching toward me, and suddenly realized that his desire had grown too strong for him to hold back. I’d been sunk so deep in my misery that I hadn’t been aware of his feelings, but once he had taken me in his lap and arms I became more than aware of them. The flames washed over me as his lips took mine, his heartbeat became a pounding in my ears, the hot blood surged from his body into mine, forced from flesh to flesh as he crushed me up against him. I knew the reactions I was feeling weren’t my own, but they were absolutely overpowering. I gasped once for air, trying to protect myself or fight back, but it was already too late. The fire burning within him was too wild, his hold on me too strong, for me to be able to break loose. He swept me up as easily as his arms lifted me in the air, and by the time we, reached the bed furs, I was completely lost.

Hours went by that way, and I had the distinct impression Dallan was trying to make up for all the time he’d lost as a servant-slave in Aesnil’s palace. At one point I told him truthfully that I had nothing left to give, that he’d taken all there was to take, but all he did was laugh and prove me wrong. I couldn’t seem to resist the way he touched me—or the way he kissed me—or the way he thought when he looked at me. I’d been forced into sharing my emotions from the very first, and the man was glorying in the sensations as never before. He was enormously pleased with his new belonging, and I was beyond desperation.

I’d been napping for a short while in Dallan’s arms when I was awakened by a loud knock on the door. I raised my head when Dallan called out for whoever it was to enter, but I knew who it was before he did. Ferran, commander of the guard, came in, walked four or five paces from the door, then nodded his head to Dallan.

“My Drin, those you alerted us to expect have arrived,” he said, his mind more curious than his tone. “They await your pleasure in the courtyard.”

“Good.” Dallan nodded in turn, taking his arms from me as he sat up. “Offer them refreshment after their long ride, and tell them I will be with them shortly.”

“At once, my Drin,” the man agreed, turning back to the door after a single glance at me. His mind had started to growl as was usual with Rimilian men, but sight of the small-linked bronze bands I wore had changed the growl to a hum. Apparently their society found humming over a five-banded woman acceptable, while growling was not. Growling led to swordplay, and Ferran wasn’t about to challenge his drin.

“You may arise now, wenda, and clothe yourself in this,” Dallan said, dropping something on the bed furs as he passed them. “We have guests awaiting us, and I do not care to have them wait overlong.”

He, himself, headed for his haddin, and when I looked at what he’d dropped on the bed, I found it to be a gown very much like the ones I’d worn in Aesnil’s palace. The thing was backless and veed in front, but instead of butterfly sleeves there were full sleeves, gathered at the wrist the way imad sleeves were, but not with leather. Sheer silk ties closed the sleeves, of a silver matching the delicate silver of the rest of the gown. As much as I wanted to be out of the playtime outfit I was then wearing I glanced over toward Dallan before beginning to undress. The silver gown gave me an odd feeling of foreboding, as though something very unpleasant was going to happen, but Dallan’s mind gave no indication of what it could be. The Prince of Gerleth was very pleased about something, not to mention lighthearted; if there was going to be trouble, it was nothing he was expecting. I threw away the slave-rag as he began buckling on his swordbelt, and paid attention to getting myself dressed.

By the time we left the rooms. I was glad it wasn’t me waiting for Dallan. He’d had himself ready in almost no time, but he called the three women back to see to my hair and reperfuming, and he hadn’t hurried them. He stood and waited patiently until the job was done, watching me carefully, determined about something even though he didn’t think it was a good idea. I could see that from the way he kept pushing away a fully understood doubt, but I didn’t know what the idea was, or which part he was doubtful about. The teasing hints nagged at me, taking my mind off the way I was being primped and preened. The woman Ladir seemed to have caught Dallan’s mood and was no longer amused, but she wasn’t the only one.

The next room past the bathing room was a reception room, full of cushions and small tables, but no bed. Beyond that room was a marble corridor, and that was where we picked up our escort. Eight l’lendaa fell in behind us, scarcely walking in step but still guards for all of that. We walked down the long, wide corridor to its end, then stepped through airy double doors onto a wide balcony of sorts, that moved away before us to a broad set of descending steps. When I stopped to look over the balustrade with a gasp, Dallan stopped with me and gestured widely.

“The land of Gerleth,” he said, referring to the miles and miles of country I could see, way, way down below us. There were tiny towns, and tinier individual houses, and neat rows of farmland in between the towns and houses and small stands of trees. I was looking down into a mountain valley, the entire area settled and cultivated even to the foot of the slopes. The mountain had to fall away into the valley on this side only, considering the road leading to it on the other side. I wondered how long circling that valley to the far side of the mountain would have taken and then I remembered it didn’t matter any longer.

“The land of Gerleth is very lovely,” I said, turning away from the valley to look at Dallan. “It is now clear why you missed it so greatly.”

“It is said that once a man sees it, he may never again leave it.” Dallan smiled, running a gentle hand over my hair. “Possibly it will hold true for a woman as well.”

His comment was an odd one, but before I could ask him what he meant he had taken my arm, heading us toward the broad stairway that led downward. He was still firmly suppressing his doubts, and as we approached the stairway I suddenly knew why. I couldn’t see him as yet, but at the foot of that stairway waited Tammad.

I must have tried stopping in my tracks; the first thing I realized after discovering who was waiting was that Dallan’s grip had tightened, and I was now moving forward only because I was being pulled. I really didn’t want to go down those stairs, but another sudden revelation made me stop hanging back. Knowing who was waiting below told me the Dallan intended to fight Tammad for possession of me, and it was my presence at the fight that he had been unsure about. Dallan knew well enough that I could cripple his mind so badly that he would lose, but he was bringing me there anyway. Did he intend making me choose between them—or was he too proud to hide anything from me, even if he died for it? I felt the silver gown fluttering in the light breeze as we approached the top of the stairs, and also felt the new alertness in Dallan’s mind. He knew I was aware of what was happening and was waiting for me to react; as far as that went, I was waiting for the same thing.

We did no more than reach the top of the stairs and start down, and every eye below was riveted on us. Tammad was there with Cinnan beside him, a dozen l’lendaa ranged behind them, half Tammad’s and half Cinnan’s. They stood in a large marbled courtyard, marbled columns and arches rising around its perimeter, more l’lendaa and seetarr visible through one of the arches. Also around the perimeter were two dozen l’lendaa who seemed to belong to Dallan, all armed, all alert. A large, beautiful fountain stood in the far right-hand corner of the courtyard, but no one seemed in a mood to appreciate its beauty. Anger and impatience and wariness rose up at me in waves, unseparated and undefined even when I met Tammad’s gaze without looking away. There were too many minds there for his to dominate, even with the clear displeasure flickering across his features. If I hadn’t expected trouble sooner, that expression alone would have kept me from being surprised. Tammad and Cinnan began walking toward us as soon as we began descending, and by the time we were at the bottom of the steps they were only five feet away and waiting for us.

“Aldana, l’lendaa,” Dallan greeted them pleasantly, nodding to them in a friendly fashion. “I am told you come seeking our assistance. How may we aid you?”

“You have already aided us by ending our search.” Tammad answered, his voice calm and neutral, but just barely. He and Dallan had locked eyes, and Dallan’s hand was no longer on my arm. “I take it you are the one called Daldrin.”

“I am Dallan, drin of Gerleth,” Dallan answered, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. “At one point and for a certain purpose, I was indeed called Daldrin. You, I take it, are he called Tammad. ”

“I am,” the barbarian said, forcing calm on himself with enormous effort. “I have come for my wendaa—and she who was banded by Cinnan as well.”

“My cousin Aesnil is here and well, though far from pleased with her new lot,” Dallan said, sparing a quick glance for a tight-lipped Cinnan. “She receives the courtesy in my house that I received in hers, an experience she will not soon put behind her. Should he who is called Cinnan wish it, he may remain as guest in this house, to watch his wenda from afar or even to be served by her, as he chooses. At the proper time, he will then be able to return her to her former place.”

“And what, I would know; do you consider the proper time?” Cinnan asked, giving Tammad no opportunity to speak the words he had intended.

“The proper time will be when she has learned something of humility and obedience.” Dallan answered, his smile widening to a grin even though he still looked only at Tammad. “Should you decide to remain, speak to the overseer of my house at your convenience. ”

Cinnan nodded as though Dallan could see the gesture, but made no move to leave Tammad’s side. Now that he knew Aesnil was safe, he could afford to forget about her for a short while. Tammad’s business wasn’t done, and everyone there knew it.

“I have heard no words from you regarding my wenda,” the barbarian pursued, his eyes now the blue of ice. “I will have the return of her now.”

“Your wenda,” Dallan mused, the grin having left him. “A man who cannot keep his wenda by him has not a right to the wenda. A man who two-bands her, then five-bands her, then four-bands her, shows little interest in her peace of mind and self-concept. As you four-banded her, name your price to the overseer of my house and he will see that you receive it. She now stands five-banded and cherished as well, and will remain so as long as I live.”

I was shaken by the strength of the disgust coming from Dallan, but not as much as by the blast of rage coming from the barbarian. The force of the rage literally staggered me, and I might have fallen if not for the hand of one of Dallan’s guardsmen on my arm. Dallan, who had begun turning back toward the stairs, ready to take my arm again, must have seen me pale and knew immediately what the problem was. Rather than trying to help me in any way, he quickly turned back to Tammad, who had taken two steps forward with the very first echoes of his rage.

“No man has the right to come between another man and his wenda,” the barbarian grated, his voice sounding like two stones rubbing together. “You know nothing of that which lies between us, nothing of what I—” His words broke off abruptly as he fought to calm himself, but the effort was useless. He was well beyond calm, and his eyes more than showed it. “It makes no matter,” he continued, again having locked eyes with Dallan. “All that concerns us is that no man may give himself approval for banding save with a sword. My wenda has not been offered to you, nor shall she be. Return her now or face me. ”

“I shall not return her,” Dallan answered, standing as tall in mind and body as the barbarian. “It will be my pleasure to face you. ”

“No,” I said, practically to myself, not believing they were really going to fight. And then, because I knew they were, I shouted, “No! I will not be fought over! Do you hear me? I refuse to be fought over!”

I might as well have been shouting over the side of the mountain into the valley. Tammad backed off a few paces then turned toward the center of the courtyard with Dallan following right after him, both of them ignoring me as if I hadn’t said a word. I began to move forward, to stand between them if necessary, but Dallan’s guardsman still had his hand on my arm. The others in the courtyard were all moving back toward the pillars and arches, giving the two central figures all the room they would need, and as real as I knew the confrontation was, I still couldn’t believe it. The two men were Dallan and Tammad, and they couldn’t really be serious about using the swords they were drawing; they didn’t really intend trying to kill each other!

“I have looked forward to this meeting for some time,” Dallan said to Tammad with a smile, raising the sword he held. “By the rite of five-banding do I defend possession of my woman. ”

“There is that which is deeper and more binding than five-banding,” the barbarian returned with a similar smile, also raising his sword. “The woman is mine.”

Their minds were hardened metal and rock, cold and unmoving and completely determined. I was so close to true shock I could have brushed it with the silver gown I wore, tripped over it and fallen. The smiles on their faces were absolutely ghastly, lacking all humor of any sort, making me shiver so hard I nearly pulled loose from the guardsman’s grip. Their polished metal swords rose glinting in the sunlight, sharp and deadly, long and graceful, handled with ease despite their weight. Tammad and Dallan, two tanned giants, the first wearing a green haddin, the second in dark red, both wide and strong, both determined to win or die; they faced one another with eagerness, and it had already begun.

I think it was that very eagerness that finally broke through to me, pushing off the shock with the beginnings of anger. They were glad to be facing one another, happy over the prospect of fighting and killing! They were both barbarians, savage beasts who were only using me as an excuse to get at one another, calmly deciding my fate for me even as they casually gambled their lives. It made me fighting mad myself, but my weapon wasn’t the sword.

Without even thinking about it, I nudged the guardsman beside me with indifference, and his hand fell away from my arm. Tammad and Dallan were casually striking at one another, their blades silver lightning, each testing for an easy opening, each pleased to find none. It was a real win they were set for, the sort that had to be worked for and earned the hard way. My fists clenched as I watched them, trying to decide what to do, and then the answer came: if it was fun they wanted, it was fun they would get.

Tammad swung hard at Dallan, forcing him to duck back to keep from being hit, and the pleasure they both felt at the well-executed exchange gave me my opening. Touching them both at the same time, I changed pleasure into amusement, a shadow of it at first while Dallan immediately moved forward from his defensive retreat and attacked. Tammad caught his blade and swung it aside with his own, then had his thrust swung aside in turn. They were very well matched, these two l’lendaa and abruptly they were grinning at each other even as they circled, bodies set, free arm out, swords held ready. They were both well prepared to continue, but so was I.

A flurry of attacks and counters went by with blinding speed accompanied by the ring of metal; murmurs of appreciation and approval could be heard all around, drowning out the chuckling the two combatants had graduated to. If they hadn’t been so deeply involved with each other they probably would have already been suspicious, but the concentration necessary for life-and-death battle leaves very little room for consideration of other things. Dallan moved in fast with a stroke toward Tammad’s head, which Tammad side-stepped and blocked as they both began laughing aloud, as though in delight. Delight was part of what they felt, but not because they were delighted with the situation. I’d had to use something to distract the growing distraction they felt, and delight tends to have a great attraction for most people. I could see I’d have to speed things up before they broke away.

One thing I will have to give them: they did try. They both began swinging at each other almost wildly, as though determined to get to the bloody part of the fight no matter what anyone did to try breaking it up. If they had started just a little sooner they might have made it, but not with utter hilarity filling their minds. Their laughter turned to roaring mirth, the sort that holds you in a helpless grip, weakening your limbs and dripping tears from your eyes. Within moments they were just about convulsed with laughter, staggering around rather than circling, unable to accurately swing those monstrous swords even with two hands. Their weapons were down, their guards were down, and if I could hold off the draining tiredness a little longer, they would be down as well. A rumble of confused muttering had begun when their laughter had first started, rising when the mock hysteria had roared out, culminating in some of Tammad’s l’lendaa looking in my direction. I could only hope they were unsure of all that being my fault, and doubly hoped they couldn’t see the sweat on my forehead. They, better than any of the others, knew what I could do, and I was too close to success to stand the thought of their interfering. I forced myself to stand straighter under the weight of weariness, and tried to look as confused as everyone else.

“By the Sword of Gerleth, what insanity is this?” a deep voice suddenly roared, overriding the muttering and laughter alike. Tammad was down on one knee, Dallan was bent over holding his middle, both of them had dropped their swords, and both of them were laughing their heads off. The muttering stopped abruptly at the roar but not so the laughter, and that seemed to infuriate the newcomer even more.

The big man had come through one of the arches, leading ten or a dozen other newcomers. He was as blond and blue-eyed as all Rimilian males seemed to be, and though he was noticeably older there didn’t seem to be an ounce of fat on him. He wore a haddin of the red Aesnil’s gowns had been, a black leather swordbelt from which a golden hilt protruded, and one curving golden armband. Other than that he was no different from the other l’lendaa, except for being angrier. My grip on the two in the middle of the courtyard began to slip when he roared, and an instant’s thought told me it wasn’t worth recovering. I’d done what I’d hoped to do, and I didn’t have all that much left after the effort; what I did have would best be conserved for any necessary later effort.

“Dallan, what is the meaning of this?” the man demanded, stalking forward to stand and glare at the two ex-combatants. “Do I see grown men before me, or small boys in need of a sound strapping for childish foolishness?”

“Father—wait—” Dallan gasped, still unable to throw off the laughter, holding one hand up toward the other man. Then he slowly lowered himself toward the ground and dropped the last few inches, stretching himself out as though exhausted. Tammad had shifted from one knee to sitting hunched over, moving as slowly as Dallan had, looking just as weary. Strong laughter is very tiring, and theirs had been close to the draining of hysterics. They were finally bringing it under control, but the damage had already been done. I stirred where I stood, knowing they would soon be able to come after me, knowing also that I didn’t really care. Possibly I was too tired myself to care, but there was no confusion to the feeling. I was glad I had done what I had, and I would not have recalled the doing even if that had been possible.

“Perhaps you would now care to explain the meaning of this—this—witless exhibition,” the big man said, looking down at Dallan where he lay on the marble. “I am aware of the fact that I have not seen you in some little time, yet behavior such as this. Even as boys, you and your brother engaged in little of it. Who is this l’lenda, and those others as well, and what do you all do here?”

“Father, this was meant to be a contest to death.” Dallan panted, rolling onto his side and propping himself up with one elbow. “That it degenerated into the farce you saw was not our doing. The buffoonery was forced upon us.”

“Forced?” Dallan’s father echoed, frowning in obvious disbelief. “In what manner may laughter be forced on a man? And where might one be found who is capable of such a thing?”

“To find the one responsible, you need only look there,” Dallan answered sourly, sitting up and turning his head in my direction. Tammad had already been looking at me for a minute or two, and I was glad I was too played out to read them at that distance. From their expressions, it was easy to see that I wouldn’t have enjoyed what I read. “Her name is Terril, and I have just this day banded her,” Dallan continued, his tone going grim. “This day will also see her well punished.”

“She is not yours to band nor punish,” Tammad interrupted, bringing Dallan’s attention back to him. “The woman is mine, and I will see to her punishment when I have returned her to my bands. ”

“She wears my bands and will continue to do so,” Dallan answered, his tone even but his back straightening. “What disposition is made of her will be made by me. Have I not made my intentions sufficiently clear?”

“As clear as mine,” the barbarian returned, holding his gaze, both their hands moving together toward their swords again. Not even Dallan’s father seemed prepared to stop them, and I was more than sick of it.

“Perhaps there are those about who are interested in my intentions,” I said, stepping forward toward them before they were able to get to their feet. “I strongly feel that ignoring my intentions would be a great foolishness.”

Dallan craned back as Tammad looked up, but neither one of them got to verbalize the annoyance filling their eyes. Dallan’s father had had his eyes on me since Dallan had pointed me out, and he stepped forward to stand between me and them.

“I am Rellis, Chamd of Gerleth and lord of this house,” he said, looking down at me with curiosity and annoyance. “From what land do you come, that you have not been taught proper manners, eh, wenda? A matter of honor between l’lendaa may not be interfered with, most especially not by a wenda.”

“This is no matter of honor,” I countered, ignoring the rest of what he’d said, looking up into his eyes. “I will not be used as an excuse for bloodletting, no matter how noble the thing is made to sound. That they have greater interest in facing one another than in any end result they might attain is quite clear to me, even should no other be able to see it. It is for this reason that I am determined that neither shall win.”

“You mean to prevent the victory of one over the other?” he asked, his tone falsely astonished while his mind chuckled indulgently. “To do such a thing you must be a greater warrior than they, greater than any who has yet been known! I am truly honored to have you as guest within my house.”

He had made his voice awed and respectful, indulging the little girl in her fantasies, not seeing the expressions Tammad and Dallan wore. The two mighty warriors were finally on their feet, standing to Rellis’ right, anger and frustration competing for place on their faces, outrage and indignation pouring out of their minds. I was daring to trespass on warrior domains, daring to oppose their wills with mine, but I didn’t care how unhappy they were. It was time someone thought of me first, even if I had to be the one to do it.

“They will not face each other with weapons.” I said through my teeth, grating on the condescension Rellis felt so strongly, then turned my head toward the other two. “Should they find my resolve sufficiently distasteful, my life may be easily taken by them, yet not so the decision. That I will not allow to be taken from me.

“Do not speak foolishly, wenda!” Rellis snapped while the other two looked as though I’d struck them in the face. “No warrior would take the life of a woman, and most especially not the life of the woman he fights to possess. You cannot know whereof you speak, therefore . . . .”

“Hama, do you truly believe I would harm you?” Tammad interrupted, taking a step closer to me, his blue eyes seriously concerned. “Your life is mine to protect, never to take.”

“No more would I offer you harm, woman of my heart,” Dallan agreed, stepping forward to stand beside the barbarian. “You cannot think I would consider such a thing even for a moment. ”

“You both not only consider it, you strive to accomplish it,” I said, the harshness of my feelings coloring my words, “I will not be fought for and won as though I were no more than the spoils of your war. You both covet my possession for reasons of your own; should one slay the other toward this end, its very accomplishment will negate it. You have my word that I will open my mind wide, sharing the death of whichever of you experiences it, allowing the shock of such a contact to take me as well. You disbelieve that it may be done so; then doubt me if you wish. I say there will be no victory nor victor, not of the sort you profess to desire.”

“Profess?” Dallan repeated, his thoughts as shocked and confused as Tammad’s though his eyes and expression showed it more. Rellis didn’t understand anything that was going on, but nothing in his attitude showed that he intended interrupting or interfering. He had decided to listen and wait before coming to any decisions, an attitude which surprised me. I wouldn’t have expected it from a Rimilian barbarian.

“You cannot think I do not desire you, Terril,” Dallan said, his voice considerably more even that mine had been. “Should your power fail to tell you this, you may judge from my actions. Surely you understand that I would not have banded you had my feelings for you not been deep.”

“Indeed does my power tell me of your feelings,” I said, glancing at him briefly before looking away. “As for your actions, there are those which stand out quite clearly in my memory. I find it difficult forgetting actions such as those.”

I could almost feel him straightening where he stood, his mind filling protests of justification, but none of them reached the vocal level.

“By the Circle of Might, what have you done to her?” Tammad demanded in a growl, his fury beginning to tower again. “Should I find that you have given her pain. I shall. . . . ”

“That I have given her pain?” Dallan interrupted with his own anger, sounds of movement showing they were turning to face one another again. “What of the pain she has had from you? If your arms have held her for no more than proper punishment and expressions of love, why does she seek to run from you? Has she shown you the tears of her ache, so that you might banish them and ease her? When she was held in my cousin’s house, her life and sanity nearly forfeit, why did she not believe you would seek for and find her’? Why does the mere thought of you bring hopelessness to the depths of her lovely eyes? You ask what I have done to her; allow me to ask the same of you!”

When Dallan was through, there was no immediate answer to his question. I could feel the silence behind me, full of jagged edges, but even more I could feel the groaning and stretching in Tammad’s mind as his emotions tried to escape his control. He had forced that rigid, unyielding calm on himself almost from the first of Dallan’s words, and he refused to let it break. He’d felt the strength of Dallan’s bitter outrage full force, but what effect it had had on him—if any—he refused to admit even to himself.

“All you say is true.” he answered at last, his voice not overly loud and certainly even enough to match his calm. “There are far too many things between the woman and myself which should not have been. And yet the greatest of my follies was my attempt to give her up, which her recent disappearance has proven without doubt. I cannot give her up and I shall not, for she is more precious to me than life itself. She is mine and will remain mine.”

“She is banded as mine and will remain mine,” Dallan returned doggedly, completing the circle of speaking-and-refusing-to-hear. My head was beginning to hurt and I was very tired, and I realized that my eyes had closed during Tammad’s say, and I hadn’t opened them again. Lightheadedness tiptoed up to me, whispering of how good it would feel to sit down for a while, and I really began considering it . . . .

“Enough of this,” Rellis’ voice came, without anger but filled with authority. Suddenly hands were on me, lifting me in a pair of strong arms, and I didn’t understand what was happening. “Are the two of you so engrossed in one another that you fail to see that the woman you both seek to possess was nearly upon the ground in a faint?” he said, showing he was the one holding me. “You squabble more like children than men, and I find myself too weary to listen further. I shall see to the wenda, the while you pose as though you were warriors. Should you later discover some interest in the woman’s well-being, you may consider joining us—should I permit it.”

Holding me tightly to him, he turned then and started away, his mind faintly annoyed. I opened my eyes to see that we were heading for the stairs leading up to the palace, but I made sure not to look over his shoulder at the two we were leaving behind. They’d registered indignant outrage at his speech, but seeing Rellis walking away had bothered them even more. They hesitated no longer than necessary to glare at each other, then they were hurrying to catch up.

“Father, this is most unseemly,” Dallan protested, holding his anger down out of a deeply ingrained sense of respect. “It is unheard of for another to walk off with a woman who is the object of contention!”

“It is now no longer unheard of,” Rellis answered, keeping to a brisk pace as he mounted the stairs. The other two climbed behind him, and they seemed to understand he’d said all he was going to. Dallan was annoyed and fighting off anger, and Tammad was—calm above rumbling and swirling. I leaned my head against Rellis’ shoulder, trying to see the funny side of being carried away from the two men who had been fighting over me, with them now scrambling along behind in an effort to keep up. Under other circumstances the situation would. have been funny—except for the fact that Tammad and Dallan weren’t prepared to give up on the idea of facing one another no matter what had been said to them, and Rellis’ mind had begun to hum with interest. I should have been used to that hum from my time among the men of that planet, but I wasn’t. It still had the power to frighten me no matter how bravely I talked, especially when I felt as drained and tired as I did then. I was just about helpless to protect myself, and coward that I am, the thought made me ill with fear.

It didn’t take long to reach Rellis’ destination. A guard opened a door, and then we were entering a large reception room with a raised dais, much like the one Aesnil had in her palace. It was all marble with red and gold silks on the walls, golden carpet fur, and red and gold cushions; I was taken to the cushions at the foot of the dais and set down among them, but not to be left alone. Rellis went to a small table which held a golden carafe and golden goblets, poured into one of the goblets, then came back to sit down beside me.

“Here, wenda, drink this and you will find yourself somewhat restored,” he said, handing me the goblet with a smile on his handsome face. It was delicate golden wine rather than drishnak so I sipped at it, ignoring the metallic taste imparted by the goblet in the same way I ignored Rellis’ hand at my hair. He, in turn, was ignoring Dallan and Tammad, who stood stiffly in the center of the room, Dallan the very picture of outrage. The amusement in Rellis’ mind showed he was more than aware of them, but when Tammad spoke he was still surprised.

“Your purpose has, for the moment, been achieved, Chamd of Grelana,” the barbarian said, his usual deep calm evident in his voice. “It would, however, be wise of you to avoid too great a proximity to the woman in an attempt to prolong that purpose. Her ability to interest a man is never intentionally exercised, and therefore far more potent than it otherwise would be. To believe yourself immune would be foolish self-deception.”

“Would it indeed,” Rellis said, looking over at the barbarian with a good deal of annoyance touching him. He resented being spoken to like that, but he’d also taken his hand from my hair after only a brief hesitation. “And who are you, l’lenda, to address a Chamd in such a manner? You are clearly not from the land hereabout.”

“I am Tammad, denday of the city of Thriving Near the River’s Bend,” the barbarian responded, folding his massive arms across his chest. “Among the membership in the Circle of Might, I speak first.”

“The Circle of Might,” Rellis mused, the faint frown creasing his forehead matching the one Dallan wore as he stared at Tammad, “I have heard many thing concerning the leadership of the cities of the plains and forests and their Circle of Might, yet not that they had chosen one to speak first. He who occupies that position is a man to be reckoned with, for he has the l’lendaa of five and twenty cities at his disposal. Does your Circle now mean to ride in conquest?”

“Our Circle is far more concerned with the well-being of our cities,” the barbarian said, his calm deepening. “We have been contacted by offworlders who wish to build a complex on our world, and we have demanded many gifts and concessions to allow them their desire. To halt their intentions would be impossible, therefore do we strive to protect and strengthen the peoples of our world, so that we will one day find ourselves able to face them as equals in the mysteries of their knowledge and devices. To see one portion of our world fall to them through weakness, would soon mean the rest following in turn, our cities among them. It is for that reason we mean to demand the needs and desires of all, not merely our own; to do otherwise would be to set out upon the road which leads to self-destruction.”

“I salute the wisdom of your Circle,” Rellis said, a hand to his face as his mind considered what he’d heard. “It would indeed benefit each of us to see our entire world strengthened, yet it would undoubtedly mean the end of our way of life. I am a warrior as my father was and my sons are; what is to be the lot of the sons of my sons and their sons after them? To see them as shopkeepers and merchants and scholars, never knowing the feel of a sword in their hands, would sour and sicken the life I have so far found so sweet.”

“Such a thing need not be,” Tammad said, his voice filled with understanding. “There is one world among those of the outworlders filled with those who look upon themselves as warriors. They are called Kabras, and it is to these Kabras that the darayse of the outworlders go when there is a battle they wish fought with their enemies, for they have neither the stomach nor the skill to face their enemies themselves. All fear these warriors called Kabras yet are they warriors in name alone, rarely finding it necessary to raise weapons as true warriors would. I have among those who follow me one of these Kabras, one who longs for true battle and who will therefore school us in the manner in which we, ourselves, may offer our swords and protection as the Kabras now do. Those of our world who wish to remain warriors will find themselves fully needed, and perhaps find the opportunity of extending our sway to worlds not our own. The Kabras have made no attempt to claim that which they win through the strength of their swordarms; what need is there for us to emulate them to so great an extent?”

“What need indeed,” Rellis chuckled, delighted with the idea Tammad had grinningly presented. For my own part I was appalled, listening to them calmly discussing conquering the other more peaceful and civilized worlds of the Amalgamation. I now knew the use the barbarian intended putting Garth to, and I wished I didn’t. I swallowed the last of the golden wine in a gulp, nearly choking, unintentionally bringing myself back to the attention of Rellis.

“I fail to understand what occurs here between yourself and my son,” the Chamd said, losing most of the pleasure he’d felt. “How does it come to be that you stand in contention over this wench?”

“The woman was bought by me from the outworlders,” the barbarian said, moving his eyes to me where I sat holding the empty goblet.

“They are all darayse and did not dare refuse my demand for her, instead eagerly accepting the offer of payment I made. She left me once, thinking I no longer desired her, and it was necessary for me to follow after her and carry her back. She was allowed to do as she pleased among the darayse she comes from, therefore is she willful to a large degree as well as the possessor of a strange power. She was stolen from near my camp by savages, sold to a tribe of the Hamarda, escaped from the Hamarda, and taken up by the Chama of Grelana, who wished the use of her powers to serve her own ends. It was there, at the palace of the Chama, that your son discovered her. Though we were each of us held as slave, he in the palace, I in the vendra ralle, our paths never crossed. Once we had attained our freedom, however, we were also free to face one another, which we earlier attempted to do. With the woman present and unrestrained, the effort was the farce you saw.”

“Held as slaves, did you say?” Rellis demanded, suddenly outraged. “Dallan, were you truly made slave by your cousin Aesnil? What of your brother?”

“Seddan was enslaved as well,” Dallan said, a tightening evident in his jawline. “I, held in the palace, faced no more than the whips and kicks of the guard. Seddan, however, was sent to the vendra ralle, where it was necessary that he fight in defense of his life. He was wounded in his final encounter in the ralle, and wounded again when we fought to regain our freedom. I lost no time in bringing him home at battle’s end, and now he rests in his apartment, regaining health and strength beneath the eyes of our healers. He will again be as he was, though through no thanks to Aesnil.”

“I find your tale incredible,” Rellis said, staring at Dallan as his anger grew. “You and your brother were merely to have paid your respects to Aesnil, visited a short while, and then returned home. Did one or the other of you give her insult, that she had you enslaved?”

“We refused to go to our knees before her,” Dallan answered grimly, his left hand resting on his sword hilt. “The gesture was demanded of us to counter the ‘arrogance’ we showed when first presenting ourselves before her. Seddan laughed and called her a foolish girl-child, and the next instant her guardsmen had been set upon us.”

“There must be an accounting for this outrage,” Rellis fumed, keeping himself from jumping to his feet only by the strongest effort of will. “I will visit her myself, and . . . . ”

“Father, you need not go far.” Dallan grinned, holding one hand up to calm Rellis’ anger. “Aesnil and Terril fled Grelana together, and were brought here by l’lendaa of Gerleth who thought them wendaa of our land. I have returned to Aesnil the courtesy given in her house, and have declared her slave. She now labors at whatever tasks were given her, and strives to avoid the straps of those in whose charge she stands. You may remonstrate with her whenever you please, merely by summoning her from the kitchens or wherever it is she serves.”

“A fate undoubtedly well earned by her.” Rellis said, losing a good deal of his anger. “Your mother, had she lived, would have been greatly upset to learn of such doings from the daughter of her sister. I will speak with the girl later, after she has had an appropriate amount of punishment, and then decide when she will be returned to Grelana. A pity she has not yet been banded.”

“She has been banded,” Tammad put in, drawing Rellis’ eyes again. “Cinnan awaits without, anxious for her return yet unwilling to offer you insult by demanding it. Perhaps you would do well to discuss the matter with him.”

“I will be sure to do so.” Rellis nodded, leaning down among the cushions. “The question of Aesnil will be easily seen to, yet not so the matter which stands between yourself and Dallan. Is it possible it may be seen to by other means than a meeting of blades?”

“I came here solely with the intention of regaining my woman.” The barbarian shrugged deliberately keeping his eyes from Dallan. “Should it be possible to accomplish this end without the spilling of blood, so be it.”

“When I found her, the woman was four-banded,” Dallan said, also speaking only to Rellis. “I was well within my rights five-banding her, a decision I will stand with. The woman is banded as mine and will remain mine.”

“Clearly an impasse,” Rellis said with a sigh, then he turned his head to me. “It is easily seen why you both desire this woman, yet I have not seen her run weeping and begging to either of you. Is she convinced that one will easily best the other, or is she unsure which of you she wishes to belong to?”

“Neither,” I said before anyone could answer the question for me. “As it is the truth you seek, I shall give it to you. I wish to belong to neither of them.”

“For what reason do you feel so, wench?” Rellis asked gently, pretending he was unaware of the painful silence coming from the middle of the room. “Are you not aware of the desire these men feel for you, the love they wish to share with you?”

“Oh, I am more than aware of their desire,” I said, just short of a bitter laugh. “He who banded me first desires the use of my power in his designs and the use of my body in the furs. He who banded me second desires the end of the pity he feels for me in the bands of another, and the addition of my power as well as my body in his furs. The things they most wish to share with me are humiliation and pain, for those are the things I find most often at their hands. They both wish the use of my power, yet they also wish to deny me the use of it. I will no longer allow such a thing, therefore will I belong to neither of them.”

“Wenda, such a decision is not yours,” Rellis said, his voice still gentle to cover the pity he felt. “Surely your upset causes you to exaggerate what was done to you, for I am able to picture neither my son nor the denday Tammad giving unnecessary pain to a helpless woman. You must be. . . .”

“I am not helpless!” I interrupted with a shout, furiously throwing down the goblet I held. “Unrestrained I am not helpless at all, yet I seldom find myself unrestrained! The mighty l’lendaa of Rimilia fear me as greatly as those of my own world, seeking to bind me as tightly as they, offering punishment nearly as harsh! I will no longer allow myself to be restrained, and will fight for freedom, to the death if necessary!”

“There is much of the sound of l’lenda to you,” Rellis mused, for the most part deciding he’d better calm me down. “It is scarcely necessary for a wenda to fight to the death, most especially as she has no weapon to use. Best you allow us to see to this matter, for your happiness will be foremost in our minds as we contemplate our decision. I will have you taken to a room in which you may rest yourself . . . .”

“I will not be brushed aside that easily,” I interrupted again, my anger building. “If I have no weapon which may be used, I assume you have no objection to my using this nonexistent weapon on you?”

“Certainly not,” he agreed, annoyed but still willing to humor me. “You may use whatever weapon you . . . .”

“No!” Tammad and Dallan shouted together, both of them coming forward from the center of the room. They were feeling considerably more nervous than they looked, anticipating all sorts of calamities. They both should have known I was too tired and drained to do anything really spectacular, but their reaction was emotional rather than logical.

“I have had more than enough of interruptions!” Rellis snapped in irritation, jerking his head around to glare at Tammad and Dallan. “The girl flounders in self-delusion, and you aid her by supporting her foolishness! It is little wonder that she feels as she does, confused and unsure and deeply ahresta! You are each of you fully grown l’lendaa, and should know of the delicacy required in dealing with wendaa!”

I leaned back a little as he plowed on and on, refusing to let Dallan interrupt or explain, lecturing them on how men knew better when he was young, stressing how small and helpless and delicate women were. I know he thought he was defending me, but I’d been defended that way too often to be willing to swallow it again. I had his freely given permission to use my imaginary weapon on him, and although I used restraint, that’s exactly what I did.

Have you ever been the victim of a psychological itch? The condition usually manifests when you’re carrying two armfuls of packages with nowhere to put them down, or when you’re in the middle of a large group of people where it’s impossible to turn politely away. The itch is actually emotional rather that physical, a rebellion of your mind against the intolerable chaining of conditions and circumstances. It’s trigger is gross rather than subtle, otherwise I couldn’t have managed it just then. As Rellis continued on and on in his lecture, I was triggering that reaction in him, spreading it faster and more completely than it would have done on its own. He began by scratching absentmindedly first at his chest, then at his thigh, then at his neck; before a full five minutes had passed he was beginning to use two hands, and that was when he became consciously aware of what he was going through. He broke off in the middle of a sentence, and looked down at himself.

“By the Sword of Gerleth, what occurs here?” he demanded, watching as his hands scratched everywhere, embarrassingly even down into his haddin. He was beyond being able to control the sensations, and felt as though he were infested with tiny vermin. The strength of imagination is such that he could feel tiny feet walking on him even if he couldn’t see them.

“Father, I feel sure you suffer from self-delusion,” Dallan said, his expression uninflected despite the chuckling in his mind. “I cannot pretend I understand the method used, yet Terril was invited by you to exercise her power. It seems she has.”

“The wenda?” Rellis said with incredulity, then turned his head to look at me. Although I was scarcely straining, I could feel the beads of sweat on my forehead from my expending the the last of my strength. It was hard, damned hard, but I wasn’t about to ease up until he cried uncle.

“It cannot be,” Rellis muttered, still scratching like mad. “No being is able to do this to another, invisibly and from a distance! It is madness! It is—Enough, wenda! I am no longer able to bear it! Enough!”

As soon as he admitted defeat I let go, both to show him that his suffering really had been my doing, and to stop voluntarily before I was forced to stop. I hadn’t been able to build up my mental muscles very far, and the limitations I worked under were painful as well as frustrating. Rellis’ scratching slowed immediately, quickly petering out to nothing, and he slumped to the cushions with a sigh.

“Never in my life have I felt such a thing,” he muttered, then looked up at Dallan and Tammad. “Was this the reason for your failure to face one another with swords in proper manner? I doubt it would have been possible for me to hold a sword.”

“The reason for our failure was somewhat different,” Dallan said, glancing at Tammad with a wry expression. “We were each forced to feel the hilarity of laughter, rendering serious battle impossible. As my recent opponent has said, the woman is strong-willed. ”

“And therefore should not be allowed to escape the consequences of her actions,” the barbarian put in, annoyance clear in his voice. “She must be taught to use her power with discretion, as a boy is taught to keep his sword sheathed when not truly threatened. Should she fail to learn the lesson, her life will sooner or later be forfeit.”

“I’d rather lose that life than be taken advantage of any longer!” I spat, not caring that Dallan and Rellis didn’t understand Centran; just then I wasn’t talking to them. “If you’re so afraid of what I’ll do to you, you can solve the problem by never coming near me again!”

I hadn’t really looked at him while I’d spoken, but I still turned my head away, toward the dais behind me. I was beginning to feel that hatred again, and it was a good thing I was too tired to do any more projecting. What would have come out of my mind right then wouldn’t have been as amusing as laughter or itching.

“What does she say?” Rellis asked, shifting among the cushions so that I could feel his eyes on me. “So barbaric a tongue is beyond my knowledge.”

“She—disagrees with my opinions,” the barbarian answered, his voice the least bit fainter than it had been. “She dislikes punishment and fears it, yet refuses to learn from it. How is a man to abandon such a one, so filled with pride and arrogance that she is unlikely to survive without protection, yet who looks upon such protection with furious insult? What is a man to do with such a one?”

“Perhaps he would be best off seeing her with another,” Dallan said, his voice soft with pity rather than hard with challenge. “When there is constant pain for both members of a match, that match is best dissolved. To live with constant pain is not to live at all.”

“Only through pleasure and pain does a man know that he lives,” Tammad came back, his voice strengthening again. “There are things not worth the slightest twinge. and those worth the pain of agony. To truly live is to believe that when the agony ends, the pleasure will first begin.”

“I feel that this discussion would be best conducted over cups of wine,” Rellis said, rising to his feet. “I, myself, can surely do with more than one. You may rest here undisturbed, wenda, and gather yourself together before the darkness meal. We will take our drink elsewhere.”

I twisted in the cushions and tried to protest, but all three of them were heading for the door, paying no further attention to me. Getting up myself proved impossible when I tried, and I slumped back into the cushions as the door clicked closed. They were going elsewhere not to drink but to decide what was going to be done with me, a topic I wouldn’t be allowed a say on. I grabbed a pillow and hugged it to me angrily, then lowered my cheek to the carpet fur in misery. I hated them terribly, all of them, but they couldn’t have cared less. They weren’t going to turn me loose, weren’t even going to demand that I make a choice. The choice would be made for me, and all I had to do was accept it. Well, I wouldn’t accept it, no matter what they did to me, I wouldn’t! I closed my eyes to the urging of the exhaustion I felt, beginning to think about ail the things they could do to me, and fell asleep that way.

I awoke crying out, my heart hammering, my mouth dry and stale with the taste of fear. It was terror that pursued me out of the mists of sleep, and I shuddered and pressed myself against the chest I was held to, desperately needing the arms that held me tight. It had been horrible, awful, and knowing that it had just been a bad dream didn’t help at all.

“Wenda, what has disturbed your sleep?” Rellis asked, holding me close against the shuddering. “You seemed to be in fear of your very life.”

“I—cannot remember,” I answered, trying unsuccessfully to bring back what had frightened me so. It was gone behind dark clouds, leaving nothing but the reaction it had caused.

“We are not prepared to take the darkness meal,” Rellis said, absently stroking my hair. “Are you able to join us, or would you prefer being served here.”

“I need but a moment to gather myself,” I said, remembering his views on how helpless I was. Cowering in his arms was a poor way of changing his opinion, and the effects of the nightmare were already wearing off. I stirred to let him know he could let me go, but he didn’t release me immediately. He held on for a minute or two, and when his arms finally did open, I could have read his reluctance even without my empathetic ability. I looked up to see his blue eyes directly on me, as frankly and openly as all men looked at women on that world, but with more than casual interest in his mind. When I didn’t look away from his stare he smiled faintly, then put a hand to my face.

“It is easily seen why my son feels so strongly about having banded you,” he said. “The other, Tammad, was completely correct. Your lure is greater than that of any woman I have ever met. ”

“You find yourself attracted to my helplessness?” I asked, moving back a bit before straightening the silver gown I still wore.

“No, hardly your helplessness,” he laughed, breaking out of whatever mood had just been holding him. “As I deem myself a prudent man, I shall prudently avoid delving more deeply into the question. It would never do that I add myself to the confusion we now face.”

“I had thought the matter would by now be settled,” I said, watching his reactions closely. “As I cannot press my own stand till resolution is reached, I find the delay vexing.”

“I need not ask what your stand will be,” he said with a grin, rising from his knees to extend a hand to me. “My suggested solution would have been the same even had I not known, yet the manner of execution would have been other than it was. It now lacks only your knowledge of what is to be, and that may be seen to over the meal.”

I took his hand and let him help me to my feet, but swallowed down the questions I had without asking them. His “suggested solution” sounded like nothing I would care for, but there was time to make a fuss once I heard it. Despite the fact that I felt wrinkled and mussed, I followed him out of the reception room into the corridor, up the corridor a short way, and into another room. This one was considerably smaller than the first and had no dais, but what it did have was Dallan and Tammad relaxing among the piles of red and gold cushions. The men of Gerleth seemed to like red and gold, using it so often it was beginning to get boring. The sky outside the windows had turned dark with night, but the room was well provided with candles. Five females-servants, they were, rather than slaves—either stood near trays or served the two seated men, and Rellis led me to a place opposite Tammad and Dallan and no more than four feet away from them, then gestured for service as we sat. Two pairs of eyes watched me as bowls of food were put on the small table to my right, but I decided I was too hungry to pay any attention to those eyes or the strangely roiling minds behind them. I finished a spicy fish salad, swallowed most of a thick root soup, nibbled at a few strips of grilled meat, then finally lifted my goblet of golden wine. I could tell by the odor that the men were drinking drishnak, but there was nothing I cared to say about that as long as I had better.

“Perhaps you would now care to discuss what is to follow,” Rellis said, watching me sip at the wine. “The—ah—stand you have taken has made you very much a part of it.”

“I will make no objection to listening,” I answered, leaning down to a cushion with my left elbow. “What objections I have may be made afterward.”

“You may voice whatever objections you wish,” Rellis shrugged with a grin, also leaning down to one elbow. “That will not change the fact that you will be required to obey. My son Dallan and the denday Tammad, at my request, have agreed to hold their differences in abeyance until they have returned from visiting the resting place of the Sword of Gerleth. The Sword was placed deep within this mountain by the l’lenda Zannon many lifetimes ago, after he had wielded it in battle against his foes, winning this land for his followers. It is said that the solution to all problems may be found by those who visit the resting place of the Sword, no matter the complexity of the problem, no matter its thorniness. It is for this reason that they undertake the descent, and the way will take some time in the wending.”

“I refuse to await their return to have my future decided for me,” I stated, looking directly at Rellis. “Even should you chain me, I will find my way free of the bonds and then of this place, for I will no longer allow others to dictate my fate.”

I was braced for anger from any or all of them, having decided that playing it fearless and firm was my only hope, but I wasn’t prepared for amusement. Tammad and Dallan chuckled where they half-lay among the cushions, and the grin Rellis had worn earlier matured to an open laugh.

“Wenda, we none of us believed that you might be ordered nor persuaded to await their return,” Rellis said, giving me the impression that I had become predictable. “By cause of your own difficulties you will accompany them, and also return with a solution. There is no other thing that may be done.”

“There most certainly is!” I huffed, trying to hide the dismay I felt. “I have made the decision to return to my own people, and shall do so. There is no need whatsoever for me to accompany those two!”

“On the contrary there is great need,” Rellis came back, sitting up to look at me in a sober way. “Should you be allowed so foolish a thing as the returning to people who care nothing for you, Dallan and Tammad no longer have reason to visit the resting place of the Sword. Only with your presence does their effort become meaningful.”

“Only in the opinion of certain others do my people care nothing for me,” I said, casting a hate-filled glance at a calm-minded barbarian. “Also, in my opinion, the actions of those two have as yet to be meaningful. I refuse to accompany them. ”

“Wenda, you may not refuse,” Rellis said, and his eyes had grown harder. “Should you think to use your powers upon us and thereafter depart in peace, be advised that my guard has been warned and formed against you. Beyond this door stand ten warriors, a bit beyond them ten others, and ten further beyond them. Should you attempt to depart they will halt you, for you cannot hope to best them all. Two l’lendaa have found you of interest, l’lendaa and not darayse. Though you have been raised among offworlders, you must by now know that we are not as they. You may not turn your back upon the interest of men.”

I didn’t have to look around to know they were all watching me, their minds guarded and alert and suspicious of how I would react. I looked instead at the door to the hall, searching for and finding the guards Rellis had spoken of, furious but helpless to do anything about it. Human minds were harder to impress than animal minds, and I doubted if I could have handled even that number of animals. I was so angry I wanted to strike out at someone or something, but all I did was put my cup of wine aside.

“No, you are not like the men of my world,” I said, looking at none of them. “On my world a woman need not fear being trapped, and held against her will, and ravished without chance of reprisal. As this is your concept of l’lenda, allow me to say how greatly I prefer darayse.”

Again I was prepared for one reaction and got an unexpected other. The reaction I was expecting was anger and insult, but the waves of upset suddenly rolling at me came from all of them, showing the feeling to be unanimous. They were silent during this surge, confusion keeping any words from forming, and then one of those minds pulled itself together.

“Wenda, you see those about you through eyes lacking understanding,” the barbarian said, the sound of movement accompanying his words. “You are held against your will only when your will is capricious and unreasonable, urging you to do that which is poorly thought out. As for ravishment without reprisal, there is no such thing indulged in by true l’lendaa. Should a man wish to show his love and appreciation of his wenda he will use her as his body urges him to do, yet with no thought of ravishment. Should the wenda find his use to be overly energetic due to his deep love he must be told, for he would not willingly cause her anything of pain. Though duty forces him to see to her punishment when such a thing is called for, there is no desire within him to cause her true pain. Should he lose himself and bring such pain, his regret is greater than hers. ”

His mind was as calm as it always was, but it was trying to tell me he was apologizing again. I kept my eyes on the golden fur I sat on, still unwilling to hear his apology, totally unwilling to let anything he said touch me. His opinions, like those of Dallan and Rellis, stemmed from the position of his own viewpoint. He’d have no idea about how I saw things until he stood in my footsteps, a place he was unlikely to ever visit. I sat among the red and gold cushions on the golden carpeting, not looking at any of them, and slowly their expectant minds understood that I would not be answering Tammad’s contention in words.

“Pain is at times a difficult thing to forgive,” Dallan said at last into a silence that had grown almost awkward. “Wendaa are small and loving and soft in a man’s arms, yet when they believe themselves wronged they have the strength of ten men in support of their belief. When they have truly been wronged, the strength of the pain in their hearts is greater still. A man’s proper duty is to guard himself with his wenda above all things, for she cannot hope to match the strength of his anger. Should he fail to do so, the disappointment within her is well earned by him.”

“And yet, a man is no more than a man,” the barbarian answered, his voice still soft. “He, too, is able to feel disappointment, and such a feeling brought about by the woman who holds his heart is bitter indeed. When she continues to fail him that bitterness becomes impossible to contain, if only for a moment. Though he would have it otherwise, the fool in him gains control and does that which requires forgiveness. Should that forgiveness not be forthcoming, there is foolish pain to accompany resigned understanding.”

“A man is indeed a fool to expect overmuch of a wenda,” Rellis said gently to the barbarian, sympathy urging him to give advice to someone who was a virtual stranger. “Wendaa are for pleasant companionship, and use, and the bearing of a man’s children; though loving and attentive they are shallow and delicate. Should a man wish one he may rely upon come what may, he must seek among his brothers. Wendaa, for all their desirability, have not the strength nor a proper concept of honor. When you have attained my age, you will know the truth I speak. ”

Tammad and Dallan were considering what they’d been told, but part of their attention was on me, warily waiting for my reaction to what I’d heard. I know they were expecting an explosion of some sort, but Rellis’ words, on top of the barbarian’s, had left very little room in me for anger. It hadn’t occurred to me that Tammad had beaten me more in disappointment than in anger, and I could see that Rellis was right. Tammad had been a fool for thinking he could rely on me, for thinking I would bring him any more than disappointment. I was a freak among normal people, sneering at them for fearing something they had every right to fear and mistrust, invading their privacy even when it wasn’t a matter of self-protection. I didn’t even have enough sense to keep them from knowing it was happening as though they were too far beneath my notice to bother with. No wonder Tammad hadn’t believed that Aesnil was lying; I’d tarred myself with the brush with my own hand so often before, there was no reason for him to think I hadn’t done it again. I closed my eyes and lowered my head in shame, drawing my shield in tight at the same time. Nothing I did on that world was right, and I wished I were dead.

“Father, I fear you have bruised the feelings of my little bird,” Dallan said, his voice trying hard to exclude the sound of pity. “Her tears are a sight I have no wish to become more familiar with, yet they now appear distressingly upon her cheeks.”

“Wenda, forgive me if I have given you insult or pain,” Rellis said immediately, resonating to a strong sense of dismay. “I should not have spoken as I did within your hearing, for my words are certain to have been misinterpreted by you. A woman has other strengths than those of a man, ones which give to her . . . .

I rose to my feet and headed for the door, cutting off Rellis’ overblown and circuitous attempt at apology. There was no need for apology, not under those particular circumstances, especially not if I didn’t want to hate myself any more than I already did. I was a poking, prying, sneak of a coward, and even I couldn’t stand being near me. I got the door open and hurried out into the hall, almost bumping my nose on the guards out there, but I didn’t have to wade through them. Without my knowing it Rellis was right behind me, and the guards stepped back when he took my arm.

” I will now see the wenda to her chamber,” the Chamd of Gerleth announced, looking around at his men. “You are to accompany us, and then guard her door.”

His hand on my arm directed me up the corridor, giving me no opportunity to disagree even if I’d wanted to. It wasn’t my door that was going to be guarded, but I didn’t care any longer; all I cared about was being alone. The hall made no impression on me, nor the number of doors we passed, only the one we eventually stopped at. Rellis opened it and urged me through first, followed after, then closed it behind himself.

“You may consider this chamber yours, wenda,” he said, gesturing with one arm. “Though it is rare for a banded woman to sleep any place other than at the side of him who has banded her, it is best that you do so. When your proper ownership is once again plainly established, you will no longer need to occupy empty furs.”

I walked away from him and further into the small room, distantly aware of the lack of red and gold. Brown and green and tan and white were the room’s colors, to be found on the silks on the walls and single window, in the fur carpeting and low pile of bed furs, in the carved wood of the single, small table, in the two candles still lit in their sconces. The room was a box compared to what I had recently grown used to, but what difference did it make’.? It would hold me without fuss and presumption, without the need to impress. I neither wanted nor needed to be impressed just then; what I needed was to be left alone.

“How great an ache I feel in your silence,” Rellis sighed, his voice coming from directly behind me. “Should you wish to speak with one who will listen willingly, I need not depart immediately.” When I didn’t move even to reject his offer he sighed again, then put his hands on my arms from behind. “Wenda, there is one other thing I must do, and then I will leave you to the solitude you so clearly long for. Had I not agreed to this doing, my son and the denday Tammad would not have agreed to leaving you unclaimed for the darkness. It will be distressing, I know, yet it will continue no longer than the darkness. ”

I didn’t know what he was talking about, but again I was given no choice. His hands on my arms steered me to the bed furs and down onto them, and then he was lifting something metallic toward me. I immediately began to struggle, but when has struggle ever gotten me anything on that world? The metal collar attached to a chain was still closed around my throat with a click, and then Rellis had the nerve to hold me to him in an effort to calm me.

“No, wenda, there is nothing you may do for it,” he soothed, stroking my back with one hand. “It was feared by Dallan and Tammad that you would either attempt escape or seek to take your life if none were with you, therefore was the restraint agreed upon. I, myself, would have remained to spare you the need for it, yet such an action would scarcely be wise. The restraint will not be taken with your charms.”

He held me tightly up against him, stroking me slowly, outwardly calm but inwardly watching for the least sign of invitation. With my face and body against him, feeling his warmth and strength, it was difficult not showing the hint he was looking for; when it comes to Rimilian males, I’ve been well conditioned. But despite the conditioning I really needed to be alone, and there was only one way to guarantee that. Reaching out gently toward Rellis, I touched him with boredom.

Boredom is one of those magic emotions that can bring any number of reactions. Some people eat when they’re bored, some pace, some yawn and stretch, some close their eyes for a nap, some develop an overwhelming urge to go and do. Rellis was clearly the type to react in the last way, and that’s just what he did. His mind told him he was wasting his time, and after a final hug he let me go, patted my cheek gently, then got up and left the room. Once he was gone I was able to unclamp my jaw, then stretched out on the furs.

The problem of Rellis was no problem at all, not by itself and certainly not when compared to my major problem. My hand absently stroked the dark brown fur I lay on while I tried to decide if I could consider the thing unemotionally. As a creature of emotions, I finally had to admit I was touched more by them, not less, and that made everything much more difficult.

A few minutes earlier I’d been ready to blame everything that had happened squarely on myself, but that was no more true than that I was totally innocent. The barbarian had beaten me when he’d thought I’d manipulated Aesnil, and for a minute or two I’d thought he might have been justified, but that wasn’t so. He’d spoken of the way I’d failed him, and maybe I had, but was it fair of him to demand what he did of me? He wanted me because of my abilities, but he didn’t want those abilities exercised except at his express instructions. If my ability had been super-keen hearing, it was as though he wanted me to listen only at approved times, and ignore what I heard at any other time. How do you stop yourself from hearing? How do you turn your hearing off except at certain specified times? You can stop yourself from hearing altogether by filling your ears with cotton or wax, but how do you stop the reflex to hear without those things? It was impossible, just as impossible as not picking up emotions without shielding completely.

I moved in some discomfort on the bed fur, reluctantly willing to admit that I’d made the mistake of intruding with my abilities more than once, but not willing to admit that it was all my fault. With my newly developing powers I was like a child just beginning to learn how to walk, aware of the potential danger but too wrapped up in the bright, glittering newness of it to be cautious. I’d been punished for my intrusions, a sure-fire way of learning to be cautious if there ever was one, but too much of the punishment had been harsh beyond the need to teach, bringing resentment rather than regret. It was all part of being on that world, all part of the victim syndrome that was making me hate everything and everyone I came in contact with. I didn’t want to be a victim; in fact I refused to be one, and that didn’t sit well with the men of the world. I couldn’t fight all of them but that was just what I was doing, and the result had been painful, to say the least. They were afraid of what I might do, and had a right to be afraid, but I had some rights, too. If they couldn’t live with what I was they had no right to change me, only to let me go.

Which brought me right back to Tammad and Dallan. Dallan enjoyed using me, but the main reason for his banding me had been pity, pity for what I had gone through. Despite the way he’d humiliated me there was no viciousness in him, no driving need to give me pain in order to make himself feel like a man. He wanted me so that he could protect me from everything including myself, which was a decent motivation but nothing to build a permanent relationship on. Dallan would give up his life before he would see me hurt, but Tammad—I still couldn’t decide. My thoughts became a blur when I tried to think about him, and emotions immediately rose to rule. I hated him for beating me, and for trying to hold me, and for giving me to other men, and for a dozen other reasons, but I also couldn’t forget what it was like to be held in his arms. There wasn’t another man anywhere, even on Rimilia, who was able to make me feel the way he did, but I didn’t understand why. Why couldn’t I simply hate him for what he had done to me? Why couldn’t I turn my back on him and forget him? I would do that anyway when I left Rimilia, but why did the thought of doing it bring pain instead of joy? I would still escape him no matter what he’d done to bewitch me, but why did it have to be so hard?

All those unanswered questions put me in a deep black mood, and when I shifted from brooding to sleeping, it was a distinct relief.