The Warrior Within

14

My head throbbed in painful rhythm to my heartbeat, and I had to force my eyes open. It took a minute to realize that the pain wasn’t my own, but that of the mighty warrior who sat groggily next to me. Tammad was definitely awake, and when he saw me watching him, he made a valiant effort to control what he was feeling.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, reaching out to smooth my hair. “There is much for you to do this day.”

“I can see that,” I answered, holding back a superior grin. “Isn’t there anything you can do for that headache?”

“I must wait for it to abandon me,” he sighed, stretching out in the furs again. “It is the price one pays for the foolishness of too much drishnak.”

“As long as you admit it’s foolishness, maybe I can help.” I said, moving close to stroke his forehead. “Relax your control and let me try.”

His muscles eased up somewhat, the action making him wince inwardly at the uncontrolled pain he felt in his head. I surrounded the pain as best I could and soothed it, urging it down to a level he could handle. His surprise didn’t keep him from immediately exercising control over what was left of the headache, and his hands kept me from moving away again.

“Truly are you wenda without equal,” he murmured, enjoying the feel of me against him. “I am again as I was, for you have taken the pain from me.” He paused to frown in thought, then demanded, “You have not taken the pain as your own?”

“No,” I laughed gently. “With you around, I don’t need anyone else’s pain. Do you still plan on beating me?”

“Should the need arise.” He nodded without hesitation. All men must know that there is ever one greater than they somewhere in the world. I would not have you insult the one who is greater than I, and end his belonging to be punished for insolence. Sooner shall the punishment come from my hand, to be given in full measure, yet not without concern. It is my duty.”

“Your duty need not be so carefully seen to, O denday,” I answered ruefully. How do you argue with someone who’s going to beat you because he cares for you? “I’ll be too busy doing my job to get into very much trouble.”

“Such is my sincere hope,” he answered, a faint grin appearing on his face. “You may begin when we have had our meal.”

“I’ve already begun.” I said, enjoying his reaction to this second surprise. “Last night, while you were building the foundations of a headache, I was doing what I was brought here to do.”

“Then I am the laggard.” He grinned more widely slowly moving his hands on me. “What have you learned?”

That was a question I had no trouble answering. “I’ve learned that my aman is nonexistent when you do that.” I groaned, holding tightly to him, then added, “There are no other l’lendaa about now.”

“There soon shall be.” He laughed, prying me away from him and forcing me flat. “Therefore must you tell me now that which you have learned. We may not have further opportunity”

I groaned again as he held me still, then took a deep breath. “We’d better make the opportunity” I disagreed. “I’ve read the men, but I don’t know them and can’t tell them apart until I see them individually. We’ll have to walk around and visit.”

“Such is no hardship,” he mused, already planning it. “The Ratanan allows for much mixing and visiting. Do you now dress yourself, and we shall eat.”

He stood to do his own dressing, and after a minute I followed suit. The man was highly frustrating and extremely unfair. He had the Ratanan on his mind, and couldn’t be lured away from his purpose. I remembered the real we had experienced together, and felt a strong urge to rape him—if only just that once. If he hadn’t been so big...

Breakfast was waiting in the form of spiced meat chunks, courtesy of the women who had been brought along. My shiny new clothes proclaimed that I was to have nothing to do with the preparing of food, and I can’t honestly say I was disappointed. My mind kept centering on the reports I’d put together, and cooking under those circumstances would have cost me a good deal more skin. My hand was no longer covered or salved, and seemed to be healing. I didn’t want to press my luck.

After we’d both had some water, we began our visiting tour. Faddan, Kennan, and Loddar came along with us, but I wasn’t half as surprised at seeing them as seeing the one called Caffar—the one who hated Tammad. He was among the rest of our fifty and I didn’t understand why.

The tour began with a quick call on Garrad, who was on his feet but just barely. Tammad smiled gently, wished him a speedy recovery then moved on. Garrad stared after him, a new respect beginning to form. Once the headache was gone, the respect would grow.

We spent a good deal of time with ordinary l’lendaa, both out of courtesy and out of necessity It was impossible to ignore someone without giving insult, and the dendayy needed time to come out of the fog. After a couple of hours, though, they all seemed to be whole again, and I was impressed. Tammad’s headache was gone completely, with no trace left that it had ever been there.

There were cleared spaces in front of the dendayy pavilions, and I soon found out their purpose. Matches between individuals and groups of l’lendaa began, and the spirit of competition was high. They all started with weaponless wrestling matches, and I still don’t understand how they could consider something like that fun. When one or the other hit the ground he hit hard, and there was no question about the pain he felt.

As we approached a group, I recognized the denday as one I had drawn a few conclusions about. I plucked at Tammad’s swordbelt, gesturing him close when he turned.

“This one needs to be bested at something,” I whispered low. “Does that help you?”

He nodded slowly, considering what I’d said, then continued on toward the pavilion. The denday stood with his men watching as two of the l’lendaa sweated and grunted, seemingly not noticing us. We stood silently too, waiting until one of the men had caused the other to concede, then Tammad turned to the other denday.

“Aldana, Miggan,” he said pleasantly “Your men seem as fit as ever.”

“And ever shall they be,” Miggan answered neutrally “I believe in nothing else. How fares your city, Tammad?”

“Well,” Tammad answered. “Our caravans are beset by the savages, yet still we prosper. Have you also been attacked?”

“Aye,” Miggan said, and spat disgustedly to one side. “We shall soon have the savages in our camtahh, should we continue to fight them singly. We must band together and force them to return from whence they came.”

“I, too, believe so.” Tammad nodded. “This Ratanan must see it done.” He glanced toward the cleared space, where another two men struggled, and grinned. “There is fine sport to be had for those who wish to take it, yet it is unfitting for a denday to sport with his l’lendaa. A pity for I feel the need for such sport.”

“Often, I, too, feel such need,” Miggan said in the same casual tone while his attention focused on Tammad. “As we are both dendayy, let us see to our mutual need.”

“An excellent thought,” Tammad answered, as though the idea had never occurred to him. After this match, we shall take our turn.”

Miggan nodded, and they both turned back to watch the wrestling. I ignored the wrestling and watched the two dendayy, hoping that I’d guessed right. Miggan had been difficult to read until his control had slipped with the intake of drishnak, then his superior intolerance had been easy to feel. He had sat alone in the pavilion through his own choice, but not through feelings of unfriendliness. Often a man has difficulty socializing with people he considers his inferiors.

The match ended with a final crash, allowing Tammad and Miggan to step forward before anyone else could do so. They removed their swordbelts to the yells of encouragement from the l’lendaa, then began measuring each other with their eyes. Neither man felt any doubt, and I wished I could say the same.

They started circling warily, arms out and away from their bodies, bodies bent slightly down and forward. They were both in magnificent condition, strong, healthy brutes bred for battle. Tammad was somewhat the taller, but Miggan made up for the negligible difference with slightly more weight. Their blue eyes were locked on each other, their blond hair stirring not at all in the gentle breeze.

Then suddenly Miggan moved. The mighty Tammad was raised high in the air to be slammed down hard on the ground, but he rolled and was up again immediately to return to circling with a grin. The pain of landing was not allowed to enter his conscious mind, and seconds later it was Miggan’s turn to be raised and dropped, but Miggan, too quickly regained his feet. His control was not as good as Tammad’s, and the pain was felt, but it was totally ignored.

A larger and larger crowd was gathering, and I was only able to keep my place because Tammad’s three l’lendaa saw to it that no one stood in front of us; and it was a good thing they did—behind the giant l’lendaa, I would have missed it all.

The crowd cheered and laughed each time one of the dendayy was thrown or locked in a hold, and they cheered and laughed often. Tammad and Miggan were well matched and both knew what they were about, but Tammad’s greater control and agility slowly pulled him ahead. Finally, Miggan was taken by the neck and tripped, but when be tried to get to his feet again, he found a knee in his back and his arm twisted in a vise. He tried futilely to escape the hold, then gave in to his over-powering weariness.

“I yield,” he gasped out, almost shocked at the words that came from him. Tammad released him immediately and they both stood, breathing hard, to face one another. Miggan stared briefly then said, “Never had I expected to say those words, Tammad. You are safeety l’lenda.”

“I, too, have rarely faced such an opponent.” Tammad smiled, ignoring the fact that he had been called a superior warrior. “You do me honor by sharing my sport, Miggan. Perhaps we may fight side by side against the savages.”

“I would find much pleasure in such an undertaking,” Miggan said, nodding slowly “Aye, much pleasure. Will you share drishnak with me, Tammad?”

“Gladly.” Tammad grinned as he reclaimed his swordbelt. He put his extra dagger behind him again, and Miggan eyed the dagger in the sheath.

“A lovely weapon, that,” he said, nodding at the dagger. “May I see it?”

“Certainly” Tammad answered, handing over the dagger. “It was a house-gift from a close friend, chosen carefully from among many others. I prize it highly.”

“So should I,” Miggan said, handing the dagger back reluctantly. He collected his own swordbelt, then led the way to his pavilion. Tammad followed, but not before gesturing to me. I went along, and once inside saw that the pavilion was divided in half by a drapery no sleeping furs being in view. I realized why when a woman came out from behind the drapery. She was five-banded and smiling pleasantly and her eyes lingered briefly on my imad and caldin.

“Ah, Padir” Miggan smiled. “Do you fetch the drishnak for the denday Tammad and me. We drink to victory and defeat.”

Padir nodded and left the pavilion, and Miggan’s glanced slyly at me.

“My wenda is called Terril,” Tammad supplied, noticing the other man’s slight frown. “Does her presence disturb you?”

“No,” Miggan answered, studying me carefully “She is truly sarella wenda, yet do I feel that to merely show a woman demeans her. I intend no insult, Tammad. I merely speak my mind.”

“No insult is taken, Miggan,” Tammad answered easily. “I feel as you do, though there is no dishonor in also showing a woman who is to be used. My wenda is rella wenda only for the Ratanan.”

Miggan thought about that for a minute, then began to laugh heartily. “I see that Rommar has been bested even more than he knows,” he guffawed. “His rella wenda has been outdone by a wenda who is intended to bear children! She shall give you daughters to steal your sleep, Tammad. I know whereof I speak.”

“Aye, sons are much the easier to raise.” Tammad laughed, eyeing me in a very proprietary fashion, which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I knew he couldn’t give me children, but he sounded so sure ....

“Here is the drishnak,” Miggan announced as Padir came back in with a skin. He was feeling very brotherly toward Tammad, and that’s what we’d been trying for. As soon as I confirmed that, I ignored the two drinkers for my own thoughts.

Since there was a lot of territory to cover, we didn’t spend too much time with Miggan. I heard nothing of Tammad’s excuse for leaving, but it must have been a good one; when he tugged gently on my hair to get my attention, Miggan was still feeling brotherly Miggan grinned fondly at me, too, which annoyed me, but he never noticed the annoyance. He just walked us to the pavilion entrance and lifted a hand in farewell.

The next denday we came to didn’t have to be fought with or drunk with. I told Tammad to ask any question and thereafter just listen, and when we walked away the denday was feeling as brotherly as Miggan had felt. The man was bigger than Tammad and tended to speak a good deal more slowly than he used a sword, and most l’lendaa had no patience for listening to him. When Tammad listened, not only with patience but with interest, the gigantic denday was pleased out of all proportion to the effort. He didn’t fail to compliment me, but I was glad to be away from him. He remembered me from the night before, and still felt what he had felt then—which was definitely not brotherly.

We went back to our own pavilion for the midday meal, and Tammad insisted that we eat inside. It was cooler and darker out of the bright sun, and once my eyes had adjusted to the difference, I saw that the sleeping furs had been moved to the back of the pavilion, and pillows had been scattered near the front. The drapery that had bisected Miggan’s pavilion was available in ours, too, but our drapery was drawn to one side, leaving the pavilion whole. Tammad sat himself on one of the pillows, then gestured me down near him.

“I do not understand the way of your power;” he said when I was seated. “You read those men easily and well, yet their thoughts should not have been open to you. Are you able to explain this to me?”

“Maybe so, but I don’t think you’ll like the explanation,” I answered, leaning back a little to study him. “The advice I gave you was pure guesswork educated guesswork, true, but still only guesswork. Do you still feel that sure about me?”

“I would be a fool to doubt you now” He grinned, taking a mouthful from his bowl of stew “In what manner do you `guess’?”

“When I read a man, I see only his emotions.” I explained, after taking a deep breath. “Then I have to interpret the emotions, and that’s where the guesswork comes in. Miggan’s feeling of standoffish superiority might have stemmed from a deeply buried inferiority complex just as easily as from never having been beaten. I had no way of knowing which it was, and therefore had to guess. Just as I guessed that that gonadal gargantua was frustrated through lack of vocal expression. His frustration could have come from general disbelief on the part of others, too—or any one of another half dozen reasons. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Perhaps in part; he answered slowly, chewing over what I’d said as carefully as he chewed the stew “Were you taught this—interpretation?”

“For many years.” I nodded. “I thought I was infallible until the first time I made a mistake. Then I had to admit I was only human.”

He ate quietly for a while, then he looked at me as he never had before. “This power of Prime,” he mused. “Is it something to be handed from father to son and mother to daughter?”

“It—doesn’t often happen,” I said weakly putting my bowl of stew aside untasted. I didn’t want him to know that my gift was a dominant trait and showed up in every generation after the first. He couldn’t give me children! He couldn’t!

“Once would be enough,” he commented, going back to his stew with a satisfied feeling. I sat and fretted until he noticed that I wasn’t eating, then I stuffed down what I could. It was a relief to get back to visiting dendayy. The hours went by and we made conquest after conquest. I’d been lucky enough to guess right in every case, and Tammad followed my directions without a murmur, although he always added a personal touch that never failed to make a good situation better. He and I made a very effective team, and each time we left a pavilion his hug or caress was warmer. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that he’d given his word to let me go back to the embassy.

There’s very little excuse I can make. That we’d walked all over the camp to the very outskirts of the camtahh was true. That it was nearly sundown and I was tired both mentally and physically is also true. That still doesn’t excuse the fact that I almost missed them. If I had, few of us might be alive today.

We stood just within the last line of camtahh, talking to our latest convert. He was a man who disliked everything, but who perversely felt guilt about his dislikes. Tammad had discussed nothing but the dislikes of the majority of the dendayy, making the man feel less alone. The man still disliked him, but if he ever supported anyone, it would be Tammad.

I let my mind and eyes wander over the remainder of field just past the camtahh. The sun was setting in that direction, which made one want to look away but it was so empty and peaceful that it drew me. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander alone—and then I felt it. I snapped back and double checked, but there was no mistake. That empty, lifeless field held dozens of human mind patterns, patiently waiting to be allowed to explode, which was going to happen soon.

My eyes flew open, and I knew I had very little time. Desperately I groaned and doubled over, holding myself with one arm and clutching for Tammad with the other. He broke off in the middle of a sentence and turned to me immediately his emotional control rippling.

“What ails you?” he asked, reaching for me with anxious hands. As he bent down, I put my arm around his neck, pulling his ear close to my lips.

“I’m all right, but there are men hidden in the field beyond,” I whispered raggedly. “I think they’re going to attack.”

Only his eyes moved, and he looked at the field through attentive slits. With no perceptible hesitation he picked me up, then turned back to the denday.

“My wenda has taken ill,” he announced in normal tones. “I must return her to my camtah.” Then his voice dropped and he whispered, “Savages in the field beyond. Alert your l’lendaa.”

The other man barely blinked before answering, “I shall accompany you,” then added low, “This is our attack signal.”

He pursed his lips and whistled a calm tune, and it was barely in time. Just as the l’lendaa in the area started over at a run, the savages attacked. They were on their feet and racing in, screaming their challenge and swinging their swords, almost before it was possible to accept the fact of their presence. They went from invisible to visible in the blink of an eye, and were very hard to see in any event with the setting sun at their backs. The l’lendaa shouted their defiance and ran to close with them.

Tammad put me down fast near a camtah, growled, “Remain here unless they approach,” then turned away to join the battle, drawing his sword as he ran. I stood near the side of the camtah and watched what was going on, never having seen anything like it in my life.

The savages crowed with delight as they fought, the delight unfading even when they fell with mortal wounds. They had their entire bodies and faces dyed a deep orange, thick white lines painted here and there over the orange. The l’lendaa within earshot had come, but the camp was spread out too far for others to notice the battle.

Swords rang and thudded, men cursed and laughed, savages went down happily, l’lendaa died reluctantly. It was a bedlam beyond description, and I found the savages’ emotions worse than any I’d yet come across, because they made no sense. Their reactions were almost insane, and I felt repelled by them as well as fascinated. The professional side of me probed deep for explanation, and found the possibility of one: an odd numbness at the back of their minds suggesting the likelihood of drugs.

Many of the savages were down sooner than it takes to tell about it, as they made no attempt to defend themselves, relying only on all-out attack.

The tactic would have been a good one with anyone else, but l’lendaa were too sure of themselves in battle. They parried the attacks and followed with attacks of their own, and the savages went happily to what they were looking forward to. Some few of the l’lendaa died also, but most were just wounded here or there, some worse than others.

The battle was nearly done when I saw what Tammad had gotten himself into. He had been fighting two of the savages, and had been doing better than all right when Faddan, who had been fighting near him, slipped in his own blood and went down. Before the savages could end Faddan, Tammad sprang to his defense, standing over him and fighting not two but four, while the other man tried to stop the flow of blood from his thigh quickly enough to help. Another two of the savages yipped their glee and joined the others, sure that six of them could down the lone l’lenda.

Tammad’s sword was metallic lightning, flickering here and there without stop, flashing at the savages and keeping them at a distance. There was grim battle joy in him all the while, a release from tensions and conventions that civilized men never experience. But it was a deadly purification, one that could end him as quickly as it could end his opponents.

When I saw the last two savages join the other four, my insides knotted. No matter how good Tammad was, the odds were against his survival. I couldn’t just stand there and watch it happen, I had to do something, but I was too far away I left the side of the camtah, trying not to be noticed by any of the combatants, and moved closer.

By the time I was twenty feet away I was nearly frantic. One of the savages was down with his head split open, but Tammad was bleeding from too many places, and Faddan was dizzy from loss of blood, unable to get to his feet again. The savages were going to launch themselves at Tammad, intending to sacrifice as many as necessary so that one, at least, would reach the mighty I’lenda with a fatal thrust.

I crouched down where I was, forcing calm and gathering every bit of strength I had. I closed my eyes for concentration and dredged up the feelings I’d experienced that day in the rain, of the man who had died with such a great fear of death choking him. The experience was nauseating to feel again, but I ignored my own reactions, intensified the horror and fear, and then projected it at the five savages. Dividing the projection was the hardest thing I’d ever done, but I had to do it.

The savages felt the projection below whatever they’d used to numb themselves, and the impact on them was terrible. They wailed in the deepest despair, feeling the horror of death as they’d never allowed themselves to feel it before. Through it all, I felt the presence of another savage not far from me, but there was nothing I could do about it. My strength was draining fast, but I had to hold the projection as long as possible.

In no more than a matter of minutes, my strength was gone and I slumped to the ground, completely played out. No one but a Prime would have been able to hold a projection even that long, but the thought was hardly comforting. I didn’t know if I’d held it long enough, and I didn’t know what had happened to the savage who had been near me.

I forced my eyes open to see Tammad still engaged with the last two savages, just as an arm circled my waist and pulled me from the ground. The savage laughed insanely as he began carrying me away, and I was even more helpless than ever. The savages were of a size with the l’lendaa, and I couldn’t have managed another projection literally to save my life. I was being carried toward the empty field, and once we got past the last camtahh in line, there would be no one to stop us.

I was trying to find the strength to struggle even slightly when the savage stopped suddenly laughed a maniacal laugh, then dropped me in a heap. I lifted my head to see that Tammad stood in our way his eyes hard, his bloody sword raised high. The savage yipped out a challenge and charged, concerned as usual with nothing but attack. Tammad took the smashing blade on his own broad weapon, then quickly swung his sword down. The savage’s arm flew severed from his shoulder, and a moment later, his head rolled after his arm. My own head was too heavy to hold up any longer, so I let it fall until it reached my wrist.

“How are you hurt?” Tammad demanded, turning me quickly so that I rested against his arm. “What was done to you?”

“I’m not hurt, just tired,” I answered weakly. “Projection is hard work.”

“So it was you who touched the savages,” he said, staring down at me. “From their faces I do not wish to know what was done, but I will know why you came out from safety.”

“I couldn’t reach them from where I was,” I explained reasonably. “I had to get closer to be within range, so they would—” I broke off short, realizing what I’d said only from the look on his face. I was too tired to think clearly and should have kept my big mouth shut.

“Within range,” he repeated flatly a sharper anger adding itself to the controlled rage he already felt. “So you lie as well as disobey. The life of a woman among the savages is not a pleasant one. You risked being cut down, and nearly found yourself taken—all through lack of obedience to my word. It shall not go unnoticed.”

He stood then, looking around to see that the battle was over. Women appeared to tend the wounded, and by really trying, I got to my knees. Tammad noticed my struggle, bent, and lifted me in his arms.

“We return now to our camtah,” he said, but his mind was not as calm as his tone. “You shall eat and rest and restore yourself. When you are as you were, your disobedience shall be punished.”

“You can’t mean that!” I protested as he carried me along in the gloom. “I was only trying to keep you from getting killed! Would you have been happier getting killed?”

“I am l’lenda,” he answered stiffly “and have faced death many times. It is fitting that I should do so.” He paused, looked at me in an odd way, then added, “Sooner would I see this l’lenda dead than you.”

“But you can’t beat me!” I wailed.

Damned barbarian. He did.