The Warrior Within

6

I spent the balance of the four-day trip in my cabin, having my meals delivered to me through the service slot. My door rang constantly in spite of the fact that I never answered it, and the captain called on the two-way to inquire about my health. I informed the captain that I required time for meditation, cut off the two-way then went back to brooding.

Everything that barbarian did turned out well for him. He was in control of every situation and, what was infinitely worse, he was in control of me. As Paulamin Tumley had said, a Prime should be free to do anything that pleased her, but the barbarian refused to see that. He stubbornly insisted that I obey him, that I serve his needs, whatever they were. That it did not please me was of no consequence to him. When we reached Rimilia he would undoubtedly beat me for locking him out, but I was beyond caring.

My small case of belongings was ready when the crewman came to carry it to the transport’s transfer slip. I followed along behind him, holding myself with calm dignity even in the face of the fact that the barbarian would be waiting for me there. The other passengers hovered just out of reach, staring at me and waving slightly so that I might notice them and perhaps even nod. I nodded mechanically-too preoccupied to appreciate the attention, and then we reached the transfer slip.

The barbarian was already seated in the slip, and he looked up as I entered. I nodded calmly to him and took my own seat around the circle, a seat slightly removed from his. As we were the only ones going to Rimilia, I had my choice of seats. I watched the pilot take his place in the center of the slip so I didn’t have to look at the barbarian. The brief glimpse I’d gotten of him showed him looking not at all pleased.

We grounded gently on Rimilia in spite of the pouring rain to be seen in the pilot’s screens. A lone figure stood beside a ground vehicle, staring up at the slip, waiting patiently for someone to emerge. Tammad was out of his seat immediately, standing impatiently in front of the door ramp that the pilot hadn’t yet opened. I took my case and stood behind him, but somehow I had lost my calm and dignity.

As soon as the door ramp was activated, Tammad sprang out into the rain. I went more slowly, grasping my case tightly, reflecting that the warmth of the rain did little to compensate for its drenching aspect. I was soaked through almost as soon as I stepped out in it, my hair hanging in sopping strands down my back.

I stopped two or three steps past the foot of the ramp to see that Tammad had already reached the man at the ground vehicle, and they were pounding each other like long-lost brothers. The other man was considerably smaller than the barbarian, but he gave as good as he got. The door ramp to the slip retracted behind me, the slip lifted into the air, then it was gone in the grey of the sky and I stood alone in the downpour. There was little sense in just standing there, so I made my way through the mud to the ground vehicle.

The man gestured that we were to enter the vehicle, but as he and Tammad appropriated the front of it, I was relegated to the back. At that point it made little difference, as anything out of that rain was welcome. I got in and pulled the door closed behind me, then turned to wring out my hair.

“Terry!” said a deep voice I thought I recognized. “It can’t really be you!”

“Why not?” I asked, looking into the amused eyes of Dennison Ambler. “If the infamous Denny Ambler, sweetheart of the Diplomacy Bureau, can be exiled to Rimilia, why should I be any different?”

“The same old Terry.” He laughed, shaking his handsome, brown-haired head. “You haven’t changed a bit. Tammad, my friend, your cause is won. With a Prime like Terry to help you, there’s nothing you can’t do.”

“There’s very little that he doesn’t do now,” I remarked, throwing my soggy hair back over my shoulder. “I find it inconceivable that there could be more.”

“Uh oh,” Denny said, flinching a little at the coldness in my tone. “Don’t tell me you two don’t get along? Tammad, what happened to the old charm? I thought all women found you irresistible?”

“All women save she who is my belonging,” Tammad answered in a growl, his eyes examining the landscape through the wide, front windshield. “House-gifts do not come properly trained on your world of darayse.”

“House-gifts?” Denny echoed. “How the hell was she—never mind. You can tell me the story later. Let’s get over to the embassy and into some dry clothes first. Did I mention that I almost didn’t recognize you in that snappy Central leisure suit? I’m not used to seeing you dressed up.”

Denny started the vehicle with a chuckle, and drove away from the cleared landing area. We sloshed and splashed our way a short distance to the outskirts of a dingy group of huts that materialized out of the rain. A right turn and another quarter of a mile took us to a large, two-story, typical embassy building. Denny drove the vehicle down a ramp, causing a door to open in front of us. We entered the embassy’s parking level, the door closed behind us, and the rain was shut comfortably out.

“I’ll find a couple of rooms for you,” Denny said as he turned the vehicle off. “Your things are just as you left them, Tammad, all ready and waiting.”

“Good.” Tammad nodded, unfolding himself carefully from the seat. “I am pleased to be home again, and will be even more pleased to once again have room to move myself. On your world, I always feared that something would break. Have you imad and caldin for the woman?”

“Sure, she can have one of Asdir’s,” Denny answered amiably, stepping out of his own door.” Asdir won’t mind in the least since she’ll then have an excuse to wheedle some new ones out of me. So our Prime will be traveling as a native woman, hm? What does she think about it?”

“She wasn’t even consulted!” I snapped, getting out of the vehicle, too. “I brought my own clothes with me. Why should I have to wear someone else’s blouse and skirt?”

“You will wear imad and caldin because you are instructed to do so,” Tammad said, his eyes on me with more than slight annoyance. “Your lessons were incomplete on your world, but we have now reached my world. Do you wish to disobey me?”

“Ah, let’s go find those rooms,” Denny interrupted hastily taking my arm and leading off, but then he stopped suddenly, letting my arm go as if he thought I had something contagious. He turned back to Tammad, and his face had a slightly flushed look.

“Excuse me, my friend,” he said quietly. “Old habits die hard. I didn’t mean to touch your belonging without permission.”

“My friend Dennison need have no fear,” Tammad answered just as quietly as he moved to where Denny and I stood. “What is mine is his, and I would have him know it.”

“I appreciate that,” Denny said with obvious sincerity “And I have a house-gift that’s been awaiting your return. Come and let me show it to you.”

Denny started for the ramp again, and Tammad followed behind him. The barbarian hadn’t even taken his case of clothing from the transport, but then why should he have? He’d probably never wear civilized clothing again. I thought of my own case in the vehicle, then followed them up the ramp.

The embassy visiting level was bright with intricate chandeliers, vibrant wall and floor carpeting, luxurious furnishings, and well placed knickknacks. Denny kept his dripping form away from all that, leading the way directly upramp to his living quarters. Less luxury and more livability prevailed there, and he threw open the door of a room.

“Terry, this is yours,” he said. “I’ll be back with something for you to wear as soon as I get Tammad settled. Help yourself to the hot bathwater.”

I nodded slightly and went on in, swinging the door shut behind me. The room was nice, but the yellow carpeting wasn’t appreciating being dripped on, so I went through to the bathroom and stripped off my soggy clothes. I left them in a pile, stepped into the life-saving warm water in the tub, then transparented the wall-The rain was still coming down in a torrent, and there was nothing to see through it.

After a while, I wrapped a towel around me and went back to the bedroom. Surprisingly, Denny was there, sitting in a chair next to a table that held a pile of clothes and a tray of food.

“About time,” Denny observed when he saw me. “Didn’t you get enough of soaking outside?”

“It’s not the same.” I commented. “Is that supposed to be for me?”

“Nobody but.” He grinned. “Something for both inside and out. I have to take care of my favorite Prime.”

I pulled a chair closer with a sigh and started to eat, and Denny frowned at me.

“What’s the matter with you?” he demanded, putting his forearms on the table. “You look like the living example of joy gone out of everything. It can’t be that bad.”

“Why can’t it be?” I asked, poking at the food. “Is there some law against it?”

“Come on, Terry” he urged, “snap out of it! This is a great world and you’ll love it! I doubt if I’ll ever go back to Central even if I’m recalled.”

“I’m glad somebody’s pleased to be here.” I muttered, still not looking at him. “How long do you think it will take?”

“There’s less than two weeks until the Great Meeting,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Allow maybe another week for the meeting itself, plus your travel time back here. Terry, what’s wrong between you and Tammad? I thought everyone would like him as much as I do.”

“You enjoy being raped by him?” I asked with raised eyebrows, finally looking at him. “Well, each to his own.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he protested, flushing a little. And Tammad doesn’t rape women—he just uses them the way they’re made to be used.”

“From my particular point of view, I fail to see the difference,” I said, finishing the last of the food. It was strange, but oddly tasty. And I also fail to appreciate being beaten. Your good friend Tammad is nothing but a barbarian, and I wish I were back on Central.”

“Stop feeling so sorry for yourself,” he said, a definite impatience in his tone. “You were never beaten in your life, and Tammad hasn’t changed that. A simple switching or two is hardly likely to cripple you, and that man is used to having obedience from the people around him. Just because you can’t antagonize him the way you do everyone else, doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

“A lot you know about it!” I snapped, standing up. “I’d love to see how you’d take to `a simple switching or two’! And I don’t antagonize anyone.”

“The hell you don’t!” he snorted, looking up at me with the large, brown eyes that most women found so compelling. “Why do you think Murdock McKenzie nicknamed you `The Terror’? Everyone who knows you knows how fitting it is! Now that you’re through eating, try these clothes on. I want to check the fit.”

I pulled the clothes out of his hand and stormed into the bathroom, wordless with outrage. So that’s where that nickname had come from. Murdock McKenzie. I should have known! That was something else I would owe him for!

The imad and caldin were like nothing in my entire wardrobe, and I didn’t care for them. The imad slipped on over my head and was slit up the sides, then tied with a thin piece of leather at either side of my waist. The long sleeves of the thing were slit too, all the way to the armpit, and were tied at the wrists with more leather. The caldin was very full, but fell without pleats from my waist all the way down to my ankles. It was tied with a sash at my waist, and was made of the same thin material as the imad, although of a different color. The imad was a well-washed rose color, the caldin a dull gold. Nothing at all was worn under them, and I felt more undressed than in a sleep suit. I barely glanced at myself in the mirror, then went back to Denny

“They don’t fit at all.” I told him as soon as I walked out. “If you don’t have anything better, I’ll wear my own things.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” he grinned, getting up to walk all around me. “They look better on you than they do on Asdir. I’ve got half a mind to take Tammad up on his offer.”

“What offer?” I frowned, turning around to keep him in view “And you keep mentioning Asdir, but you haven’t said who she is.”

“She’s my woman.” Denny grinned. “A gift from her father who’s head man in that village near here. He also gave me a switch to go along with her, but I haven’t had to use it much. Her father trained her well.”

“No wonder you like it here!” I said, putting my hands on my hips: “You’ve gone native. I never thought I’d live to see the day that Dennison Ambler went native.”

“Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.” He laughed. “And I haven’t gone completely native, or you would be flat on your back now. When Tammad said that what was his was also mine, he meant everything. These buskins will fit well too, but you won’t wear them until the rain stops. Tammad can pack them in with everything else. Now put on the bands.”

“What bands?” I asked, looking around to keep from screaming. Denny had become perfect as a friend for the barbarian. They were more like brothers than I would have thought possible.

“Right here,” Denny answered, picking up one of five, short, bronze-colored chains. “Tammad said you’re to be five-banded, and I agree with him. Men will make offers for one-,two- and three-banded girls, and sometimes even for four-banded ones, but a five-banded girl has to be fought for. Not many men are willing to face Tammad, not even for a green-eyed, dark-haired woman like you.”

“You’ve got to be wrong.” I said, shaking my head firmly “I know about the custom of banding, but I’m sure it’s with ribbon or leather or some such. It can’t be with chain!”

“But it is,” be said patiently. “Here, this one goes on your ankle.”

“Not on my ankle!” I balked, folding my arms. “I’m a Prime, not a slave! Take your chains somewhere else!”

“Terry, don’t be difficult!” he said in exasperation: “You have to be banded if you’re to travel as a native woman.”

“I don’t see the burning need for that, either,” I countered: “What’s wrong with my being a sightseer of sorts? A visitor on vacation or something?”

“This isn’t Alderan,” he snapped. “They don’t have tourist bureaus and guided tours. And how close do you think a tourist would get to the Great Meeting? Use your head, will you?”

“That’s what I’m supposedly here for,” I snapped back. “To use my head, not to be chained.”

He opened his mouth again, but whatever he would have said was lost as Tammad came in. I stood and stared, because the barbarian had gone through a transformation.

Gone was the leisure suit as if it had never been. The giant stood in nothing but some brown cloth wrapped around him from waist to upper thigh, his mighty chest bare. On his hips was a broad, plain, leather belt, from which a large, sheathed sword hung to the left and a long, sheathed dagger to the right, and when he turned slightly to close the door, I could see a second dagger wedged into the back of his swordbelt. He had leather wristbands, was as barefoot as I, and was altogether an unfamiliar sight.

He stopped briefly to examine me, then turned to Denny “The imad and caldin suit her, my friend. If you can spare but one other of each, we will be on our way”

“That’s no problem,” Denny answered. “You’re welcome to anything I have. The seetar is packed?”

“And the other saddled.” Tammad nodded. “Some distance should be covered before dark. She has been fed?”

“She has,” Denny confirmed, “but there’s still one problem. She won’t wear the wenda bands.”

“The choice is not hers,” the barbarian answered. “All seem much in awe of this woman who is called Prime, but here she is wenda and will wear the bands.”

He picked up the chains and came toward me, so I turned and ran to the bathroom, quickly locking myself in. There was nowhere else to go from there, but that didn’t matter. I was not going to be wearing chains.

I’d started toward my wet clothes to see if they were at all wearable, but there was a sudden crash behind me and the splintered door flew open. Tammad strode in through the wreckage, grabbed my arm, and forced me to the floor. In spite of my struggles the chains went on, one each on my ankles, one each on my wrists, and the last, to my absolute fury, around my neck!

When the last was closed, the barbarian pulled me to my feet again and dragged me by the arm out to a grinning Denny who, with a folded bundle of cloth, was waiting in the corridor. We went down to the visitors level and along a wide hall to the back of the embassy, then paused by a door.

Denny and Tammad were saying good-bye to each other, but I paid no attention to the farewell. I was examining the band on my left wrist with a mixture of fury and despair. The chain was small-linked but strong, fitting too tightly to be slipped off. The ends of the chain had pieces that fit one inside the other, but there was no way to release the catch. I strained at it with every ounce of strength I possessed, and the inside part moved very slightly It came to me then that someone with Tammad’s strength could open it easily, but the accomplishment was far beyond the strength of a woman. I wore wenda bands because I was wenda—a mere female—and would continue to wear them until they were removed by l’lenda.

“Well, Terry it was nice seeing you again,” Denny said, taking me away from the bands to realize that Tammad was no longer with him. The door stood open, and I could see the rain falling beyond the overhang next to the building.

“But it’s still raining.” I said in confusion. Aren’t we going to wait until it stops?”

“The rain may fall for some days yet,” the barbarian said, coming back in time to hear my question. “We have a far distance to travel, and will therefore start at once. Put this on.”

“This” was a smaller version of something he already wore—a long rain cape of sorts in a grey material. It went on over the head and was hooded, the hood being drawn closed with a strip of leather. The body of the thing hung down front and back, and was open at the sides where one’s arms came through. Mine had another strip of leather to close it tightly around me, but his hung loose and billowing. I put it on without comment and went toward the door, but Denny’s hand stopped me.

“Take care,” he said softly “and may the sun shine on your undertakings. I’ll see you when you get back.”

I stared at him for a minute, then went out into the rain, closing the door behind me. I had nothing to say to Dennison Ambler.

Tammad stood about ten feet away near two monstrously large animals. They were soft-hided rather than scaled, four-legged rather than bipedal, maned, hoofed, and tailed rather than feathered, and dead black in color. I’d never seen anything like them before, so a closer description-by-analogy is impossible. One of them was piled high with a covered mound, but the other had a large saddle and intricate bridle. I walked closer to the barbarian who had swung up into the saddle and was adjusting one of the stirrups. Even he looked smaller on the back of the monster, and he glanced down at me.

“There’s only one saddle animal,” I said against the roar of the rain, closing my eyes most of the way to protect them while my face angled up: “Where’s one for me to ride?”

“You could not control a seetar even were it fitting for wenda to ride one alone,” he answered. “In clear weather you will walk in my track, but for now you may ride behind me.”

He put his arm down to me, and all I had to do was reach up to be pulled into his saddle. I was being offered the generosity of sharing l’lenda’s saddle, the privilege of riding behind a mighty warrior, even though I was nothing more than a lowly female, mere wenda. I felt the symbolic weight of the five, bronze-colored bands on my body, and turned away to walk behind the seetar I stood quietly then with my feet in the mud, saying nothing, waiting for him to get started.

The barbarian had watched me walk away from him, but he hadn’t said a word, either. When I stopped behind the seetar he reached over to the other one, pulled on the leather lead to make sure it was secure to his saddle, then kicked his mount to get it moving. I waited until the second seetar had passed, then started moving, too.

We went along a pure mud road that circled the nearby village, and once we’d topped a small rise, even the embassy was gone from sight. Walking was hard in that downpour, through that mud, all alone, but I preferred it to riding. The barbarian pulled ahead at the pace I was forced to keep to, but I just kept walking.

The time went by and my world narrowed down to the next step I had to take. There was a dripping forest to the left of the road, grey, empty fields to the right, but I could no longer see them. I felt the rain on my head, shoulders, and back, and let it drive me along the mud of the road. One foot in front of the other, put it down and watch the mud splash up, covering the rain cape and the very bottom of the caldin. Put the other foot down and watch it splash again, no patterns made or at least none seen.

It had gotten darker without my noticing it. Everything was wrapped in dingy, grey mist, and I might have been the only person in the world on the only road in the world. I’d long since pulled my arms in closer to my body, but I was beginning to shiver from the chill that crept into me in spite of the rain cape. I felt damp all over, damp and chilled and all alone. My feet were covered to the ankles with mud, and the bronze color of the bands was completely gone. The bands at my ankles were spattered with the mud, and I could almost pretend they weren’t there.

I reached my last step before I knew it. I’d been moving more and more slowly, but that was only because I was tired, not because I intended to stop. I watched my foot take a step and waited for the next step to come, but it never did. My knees refused to keep stiffened and I went down in the mud, down on my knees and hands. I felt depressed then, knowing I would have to stand up again before I could go any farther. I tried to stand up, tried to push myself out of the mud, but it was just too hard. The mud pulled at me; it would be so easy just to lie down and sleep. I knew I had to go on, but it was much too hard. Better just to sink down into the mud and let go.

Then I was out of the mud, lifted high in the air by two arms that barely felt my weight. The barbarian carried me to his seetar and mounted, placing me sideways on the saddle in front of him. His left hand held the reins, but his right held me tightly to him. I leaned on his chest, my cheek against his rain cape, and the seetar started moving. Once, he muttered, “Stubborn, foolish woman!” and held me tighter. I said nothing.

I must have slept briefly; when I opened my eyes we’d left the road for the forest. The seetar moved calmly along between the trees, trampling down anything that got in its way. I stirred against the barbarian, wanting to tell him to put me down so I could walk the rest of the way, but his arm tightened again, holding me still.

It was dark there, under the dripping trees. The roll and creak of the seetar’s saddle kept putting me to sleep and waking me up again even though I tried to stay awake. The barbarian changed direction once or twice, following signs that my eyes couldn’t see, then abruptly we came to a stop in front of a large, square, tent. The entire tent was roofed over and floored, but the front face of it was open. Halfway back, a full wall of leather closed off the inside, a veranda of sorts being formed by the rest. I saw the other seetar then, without its load, hobbled and tied to a tree. My progress along the road had been so rapid, then, that the barbarian had had time to stop and put up his camtah before I’d come anywhere near. I wanted to cry about that, but I was much too tired.

The barbarian dismounted, then carried me to the veranda of the camtah. He had to bend over to get under the roof, but he didn’t put me down until we were inside the camtah. He took the rain cape from me, then the imad and caldin; I was beyond struggling, but struggling wasn’t necessary. There were large pieces of thick, luxuriant furs on the floor, and once I was free of the mud-covered clothing, he put me on one of them and covered me with another. Immediately I felt warm and snug, and my eyes began closing in earnest.

“Before you sleep, wenda,” he said softly bending over me, “there is a word I was told to say to you. The word means nothing to me, but perhaps it has meaning for you.” He said the word and I heard it, but it didn’t register in my consciousness. Then I could fight the waves of exhaustion no longer and I slept.