The Will of the Gods

2 The new task—and the dishonor of cowards

The new fey was bright and golden, shining through the green of the forest, filled with the joy of continuing life for all save those who rode as captives to males—and she who followed. Though I had been loath to witness the continuing shaming of my warriors, I visited the camp of the males again, seeking an opportunity to free my sisters, only to find that the guard males remained alert and the captives lay in a motionless stupor, no more than occasional moans to be heard from those who had been used so harshly. Easily might I have slit the throats of those who stood guard, sending them one by one to Mida’s chains; had Ilvin and the Summa been capable of movement of their own, quickly would I have done so. With my Midanna as they were, however, the slaying of the males would have done no more than alert the others, so I had to return clean-bladed to my own camp, where the sharp movements of my fury would only be heard by the children of the wild.

The new light had brought awakening to the camp, and a great look of pleasure to the males. With much laughter did they speak of their prowess to the darkness, few caring that the town female and Sigurri females wept raggedly, the three Midanna silent yet with blood-fury in their eyes. Gengan sat apart from his males, looking defeated, speaking to none and none speaking to him. The other males in colored body cloth had done much as Gengan had, yet did they cluster one near the other, speaking in low tones, attempting to laugh as freely and fully as they in gray body cloths. Gengan alone seemed taken in some manner; though I knew not what ailed the male, Nobain looked upon him with knowing eyes, and smiled his smile of triumph.

When all in the camp had been fed and the balance of the nilno packed away with the other possessions of the set, the males moved on. Again were the captives ridden before certain of the males, yet were these males of Nobain’s set rather than those of Gengan. The males in colored body cloths disliked the loss of their captives, yet none would speak of the matter to his own self, and Gengan spoke not at all. The male rode alone in the midst of those who were gray-clad, seemingly heedless of all that occurred about him. Ilvin rode with no other than Nobain, the constant, grating presence of his hands upon her bringing an unheard growl to her movements.

The light was not yet at its highest when Nobain chose three of his males to ride from the set. It was not possible to hear what words were spoken to them, yet was I able to see their nods of agreement, and the manner in which each took a different direction. The hunters of the fey previous had not chosen separate paths till after they had left the set, but that seemed unimportant. The balance of the nilno would feed the set at light’s highest, yet would the heat turn any unfed-upon rancid and inedible after that. The set required a fresh kill for the darkness, one I meant to see they did without. With grim pleasure I, too, turned from the path of the set, and sought the trail of those who had ridden elsewhere.

Much did the heat of the fey touch me with the slickness of sweat as I rode through the forest, following the track of the first of the three. The male rode with little care, looking only for provender, heedless of predators. Much sign was there all about that lenga prowled those woods, causing me to keep bow in hand and shafts within easy reach, yet the male either saw not or cared not. Large was the lenga, and beautiful even in the eyes of those it hunted, its long, silky fur highly prized by males of town and cities; nevertheless was it swift and terrible in attack, its claws and teeth difficult to avoid, often taking down those who hunted it even as it died. The male who rode some distance before me had strung his bow, yet was it across his back rather than in his hand, easily reached should prey be sighted, not so easily reached should he become prey. Many males were fools in the forest, I knew, and these gray-clad males appeared to be greater fools than most.

Movement ahead of the male caught his attention; he reached for his bow, but his prey was quickly gone, leaving him with bow in hand and naught to do with it save grasp its well-bound grip. Angrily, then, did the male put heels to his kan, sending it forward again in search of that which would stand and hold its place till a shaft reached it; instead did my shaft reach his back, knocking him from his leather seat as the life flew from him with a grunt.

Startled, his kan leapt away into the forest as he who had been of Nobain’s set lay face down and unmoving, the red seeping out to cover him, the shaft I wished the return of standing unbroken from his flesh. That the deed I performed was distasteful was of no moment; sooner would I have faced each of the males with swords, yet I had not the time to offer them mock warrior courtesy. They, being males and naught of the true warrior sort, would have soiled the gesture, likely angering Mida yet further. I slid from the back of my kan and tied it to a tree. Best would be to reclaim my shaft quickly, before the scent of spilled blood drew the lenga to the place, then continue on to the next target for my bow.

I crouched beside the slain male and applied my dagger to the flesh about my shaft, digging deep to free the metal head, attempting to work as quickly as I might. A lenga screamed not far off, voicing its hunger and boasting of its presence upon the hunt, and I shook my head with impatience.

“Neatly done,” said a voice from very near, causing me to look up quickly up. A male stood with drawn sword less than two paces from me, one of the remaining two who had been sent from the set by Nobain. Not so tall as others was this male, yet were his shoulders and chest broad, his arms firmly muscled, his body prepared for attack. Light of hair and eye was he as well, the light eyes of him happily taking me in.

“More than neatly done,” said he, gleefully, his point not far from me where I crouched. “Follow after, plant a shaft, retrieve the shaft, then continue on to the next. The beasts of the forest will see to the body, and should the remains be found afterward, there will be no indication of attack. Nobain thought the others deserters, yet did he clearly do them an injustice. They did not desert, they died, and had I not been set to watch the two who hunted for us this fey, again would we have been misled.”

The male chuckled at his own words as though he discussed the fate of those who were his enemies rather than brothers. His gaze continued to move all about me, seemingly pleased and amused at that he saw.

“It was clearly the will of the Serene Oneness that certain of us lose our lives,” said the male, “and yet are we to be compensated for that loss. Though the loss was small, no more than men clumsy enough to fall to a female, the compensation will be truly sweet. It amuses me to see a wench draped in a weapon of men, nevertheless shall you remove that swordbelt and step away from it, leaving the dagger as well. I will taste you quickly, and then shall I take you to Nobain, who will surely find interest in an addition to our collection. Take yourself from that carcass, wench, and do as I have bidden you.”

Truly eager was the male for that which he intended, so eager that he stepped the nearer, bringing his point closer to where I crouched. My dagger moved swiftly in an arc against his blade. I had intended to drop my dagger and draw my sword, yet the male, far more alert than I had anticipated, jumped forward, bringing his sword very near. Never before had I faced a sword with a dagger, and although I again beat aside his sword, the male chuckled. He, as well as I, knew I could not long keep myself untouched with only a dagger, but I was not allowed to arm myself further.

Closely did the male press me as I moved about among the trees and bushes, his point seeking to disarm rather than slay, yet unavoidable for all of that. My dagger moved without stop, keeping his sharpened metal from my flesh, the frustration growing as sharp within me that I was able to do no more than defend. The heat of the fey brought the moisture forth from my body, rolling it into my eyes to burn there, but it affected the male as well. Remorselessness showed from his eyes as he continued to press me, seeking to strike the dagger from my hand or score my body seriously enough to disarm me, in no manner willing to be denied my use, most especially not by allowing me escape. It was his intention to take me as the others had been taken, my intention to keep from being done so. Too often had I been made slave to them; not again would I be forced to such use, not while breath remained in my body and strength in my arm.

A hand of reckid passed with the sword of the male pursuing me, the blade of my dagger flashing goldenly in the occasional shafts of light which found their way through the leaves above. I had discovered the difficulty and strain of constant backing, yet had it proven impossible to merely take a stand and hold it against attack. The blade of the male’s sword struck hard against my dagger, causing both weapons to sing, his effort an attempt to break my blade and thereby disarm me. The shock of the contact flared through my arm, causing me to once again curse the strength of males, yet no more than that occurred. Much did I believe that another weapon would indeed have snapped at the calculatingly delivered blow, a weapon made by mortal hands and skill; the blade I wielded was goddess-made, and clearly proof against such destruction. The spirit within me soared at the thought, so high that I briefly attempted attack upon the male, yet was the attempt without possibility of success. My considerably shorter blade was laughingly struck aside, a sharpened metal blur sprang from my wrist, and again defense was my sole recourse.

It came to me of a sudden that I no longer moved in Mida’s cause, in truth that my actions were contrary to the most basic beliefs held by Midanna. For one who had been given a task by Mida to turn aside from it to aid others, even sisters, was to spurn the will of the goddess. Had I thought Mida angered with me previously, how might she now be considered?

“Might that be consternation to be seen in your eyes, wench?” said the male, laughter in his voice as his blade snicked close to my middle. “How, you have till now avoided each tree and bush behind you I know not, yet do I know that my point is soon to be avoided no more. When that time has come, you will find a good deal more than consternation.”

I growled in reply but the male was only amused. Jalav would be his when he triumphed, his to use as he wished, his to force shame and pain upon in the manner of all of his ilk. Again I struck his point from me, and then another growl sounded, from a throat other than my own. The male heard naught, nor did the scent reach him, the scent which spoke of the nearing presence of a lenga. Nearly did I whirl from the male to search the greenery with weapon held before me, yet the dagger would have done naught against the lenga, even if I could chance turning my back on the male which I could not. Much did it seem that Mida now stood with my enemies, as punishment for my disobedience, yet are Midanna taught that the truth of a matter, such as Mida’s will, may not be known till the final blow is struck. Had Mida’s face turned from me, I would surely find the final darkness; had it not, the insanity of the ploy which had suddenly come to me would take the male instead.

Still fending the male off, I set my continuing retreat in the direction from which I had heard the growl, the direction in which the scent of lenga seemed strongest, then did I increase my efforts in the battle and attempt to take a stand. An abrupt laugh of delight came from the male, he clearly believing that my strength waned, and in desperation I had launched a final effort. With the foolishness I had hoped for, the male allowed the stand, undoubtedly thinking to tire me the sooner and therefore have me the sooner, his light eyes continuing to move all about me, his swordarm striking with more and more strength. In some manner was I able to hold to the dagger and keep his point from my flesh, yet with nearly all of my attention elsewhere, I know not how. Amid the growing scent of lenga my ears heard the footfalls moving quickly nearer, the whisper of brush, the panting eagerness, almost even the bunching of silen-covered muscles. The sound of our scuffling, clanging half-battle had undoubtedly drawn the hunter, and hunger quickly sent it into the air with unbelievable speed, the entire mass of its weight behind the attack. Much had I believed that I would throw myself from its flying lunge with conscious effort, for I listened closely for the sound of its leaving the ground; somehow I found myself rolling and rolling through all manner of grass and branchlings and stones and bushes. The scream of the male rang in my ears as I rolled, chilling my blood the terror of it, until abruptly the cry ceased. I fetched up against a large bush, drew my sword with all the speed I possessed, then stood bent over, motionless, as I locked eyes with the lenga that had ended the battle I had been fated to lose.

The lenga snarled and tore a bloody mouthful from the thigh of the male as it gazed arrogantly toward me, but the male was well beyond agony. He lay sprawled upon his back, his throat torn out, looking shocked even through the blood which covered his face and hair. The sword which he had wielded with such glee lay not far from his outstretched arm, its blade gleaming silver in the warm light, totally untouched by the blood of his attacker. The lenga had taken its prey without sustaining injury of its own, its snarl half purr as it tore again into the carcass it rested upon, its gaze clearly challenging me to come closer in attack. Faintly I smiled, asking Mida in my heart to make the lenga know the male was my gift without challenge, then did I slip behind the bush I stood near and quickly take myself from the vicinity, before the lenga had quieted its immediate hunger and turned interested eyes toward other available prey. In the past I had hunted lenga and had slain them, yet not without spear or bow before they had closed with me. To allow a lenga to close with you is an action fit only for males, one which is indulged in no more than once. After that is the lenga left, the hunter no more than bones beneath Mida’s light.

My kan was nearly beside himself with the fear of hunting lenga, and was unable to pull loose from the tree I had tied him to. I calmed him somewhat and then mounted and rode from there, feeling great relief and something of confusion. Though much of me was bruised from my roll across the ground, and my back was gouged where the point of the male had reached me as I threw myself from in front of him, both the attack of the male and the attack of the lenga had been handily survived. Clearly did Mida’s shield continue to stand firmly before me, and this despite the goddess’ anger with me. Much had I doubted that this would be so, and even in the face of it could conceive of no explanation to account for it. Perhaps Mida was loath to release me as her chosen, therefore I rode with Mida’s blessing, yet could not consider the blessing unending; best would be to free the captured Midanna as quickly as possible, before that blessing was no more.

With Mida’s blessing, then, did I find and follow the track of the third male, one who had not sought prey which would stand and await the shaft of a mighty hunter. A large nilno had fallen to his bow, much in the same manner that he fell to mine. This time was I able to retrieve my shaft without difficulty, afterward taking a large enough cut of the nilno to allow me to feed my fill. The male had hunted so that I might feed, and this, together with the knowledge of Mida’s smile, allowed my spirits to rise.

The balance of the fey was spent in finding the set of the males, they who awaited the return of their hunters. As the light of the fey faded toward darkness, the male Nobain called a halt to the march, his shouted words of fury silencing the forest’s winged ones and echoing all about. The three who had been sent from the set had not returned, nor had another nilno blundered its way past them; the males had naught to feed upon save strings of dried meat, the words of shame so easily spoken that a sneer took me. How is it possible for one to ride through a forest so bountiful, end with naught upon which to feed, and then lay the blame at the feet of others? Even weaponless Jalav would have fed, as would any Midanna warrior worthy of the name; were there no vines to use in place of leather, no pits to be dug with pointed sticks and covered over with leaves and grass, no rocks to be thrown no branches to be fashioned into spears or quarterstaffs? Well did the male rant and rage all about himself, calling down the curse of the Serene Oneness upon those who rode ahead without thought of those they left behind, and then was his fury turned upon the captives he held. No more than sixteen males remained who might seek their use, nevertheless Nobain demanded the use of the gimba salve upon the captives, saying that their screams and pleadings would take the thought of hunger from all of his males. My hand closed tight about the hold of my bow, snarling like a lenga. With the new light would I follow and slay those who were sent to hunt, and then would I return to the set, seeking stragglers who might be taken one by one. Less than two hands of hale gray-cloths continued to ride, plus those of Gengan’s set; were I able to take the gray-cloths, those in colored body cloths would not long stand between me and my Midanna. This did I vow in silence to Mida, and did I turn away to seek a camping place of my own.

Again did the males remain alert during the darkness, therefore did I reluctantly take a few hind of sleep to chase away my weariness. With the new light were the captives roughly shaken awake and dragged stumbling to those they would ride with; only then was it discovered that he named Gengan was no longer to be found in the camp. That his kan was gone as well kept the males from looking about themselves, yet was it a near thing. Well prepared was I to fall back to keep from being discovered, yet that way I couldn’t note what hunters were sent forth. Nearly did I call down the curse of Mida upon the head of the male Gengan, he who had used the town female, yet was the effort proven unnecessary. The gray-clad males shrugged in an uncaring manner over his departure, the males in colored body cloths seemed disturbed and uneasy, and all took to their kand and resumed their journey.

Perhaps two hind passed before it became clear that no males would that fey ride out to hunt. I knew not the reason for such a lack; Nobain failed to speak of the matter aloud, and none of the other males questioned him upon it. With Mida’s light at its highest all partook of the dried string meat which the males carried, yet none paused to hunt. The town female and two Sigurri females were given small bits of the meat when they begged it, yet were the Midanna given naught save gulps from a water skin, these being forced upon them. Ilvin and the Summa showed no more than hatred and scorn for the males, a far cry from the groveling the males desired from them, therefore were those three captives sneeringly left with the hunger upon them. It had not come to the males that Midanna do not feed upon the leavings of enemies; had they known the truth, they would undoubtedly have given the warriors pain.

Brief indeed was the halt for provender, yet did it seem to bring joy to those in colored body cloths. Low laughter and eager smiles were theirs upon the resumption of the journey, as though a great burden had been lifted from them. I, myself, felt no lightening of a burden, for the gray-clad males rode close to one another in their set, two by two as they had not done previously, all alert, all well bunched. My shafts fairly hummed in their quiver, eager to fly, yet no sensible target presented itself. Mida! The fury and frustration which gripped me then was unspeakable, well nigh to the point of sending me forward with sword hilt in fist, to lay all about at what targets I might reach. The need for the glory of battle gripped me fiercely; had I not had a Mida-given task before me, had my Midanna not been awaiting my return, were there not captives to be freed- So many things bound me that I frothed with near madness in the chains of them. To ride free and armed is at times no more than an enslavement. A warrior without freedom is a pitiful thing, one destined for no more than the final darkness.

The hind of the fey moved by beneath the steadily plodding hooves of the males’ kand, ponderous and slow, bringing me a growing desire for the arrival of darkness. This darkness was I determined to do more than simply await the new light, this darkness would I see my Midanna freed! When all of the males had taken their pleasure and slept, then would I slay the guard males and cut the leather from Ilvin and the Summa, trusting to Mida that I could rouse them. I knew they would follow me to freedom even were they taken by pain and exhaustion, for they were Midanna. Were I to wait any longer they would be too weak from hunger so I had to ignore the likelihood of a hunter-light sleeper among the males. Perhaps, with Mida’s aid, I could silence any who awoke before he might give the alarm.

Less than two hind of light remained to the fey when the forest began somewhat to thin. Rubbled hills appeared to the west of the males’ line of travel, a reddish-black blot upon the warm greens and browns all about, a sight clearly expected by the males. Those in colored body cloths were greatly gladdened by the sight; they left their places in the set and rode together to Nobain, who, upon noticing them, halted the set with one hand upraised.

“This, I believe, is our point of parting, Nobain,” said one of the males in colored body cloth, his words difficult to make out at the distance I was forced to keep. “As you and yours mean to turn off at the caves, my brothers and I must continue on to our city alone. We await only the return of our wenches. ”

“Ah, yes, the return of your wenches,” said Nobain, smiling broadly at those who sat their kand before him. “Four wenches, now, that would be. Ramsarn no longer requires a wench, and Gengan has taken himself off to nobler company. Am I correct?”

“Four!” echoed the male in sudden upset, exchanging glances with those three who rode with him. I, too, was dismayed, for it seemed that all of my expectations had been dashed. The males would not camp that darkness as I had anticipated, and Ilvin and the Summa would be parted! It would not be difficult to follow and free the Summa, yet would the Summa ride with me to free Ilvin? And even should they do so, what would await us at the caves of the gray-clad males? More than likely further males of Nobain’s ilk, all eager for the use of Ilvin and the town female, all prepared to guard them well. My fist closed tightly about the reins I held, the silent voice of my mind roundly cursing all males and their doings.

“Four is correct,” said another of the males astand before Nobain. “The others would have been warmly welcomed in our city and quickly taken as wives by two of those who have no women of their own, yet are they properly yours to dispose of. Should you choose to sell them in the city when you are done with them, their price will be yours. We have no wish to detain you longer; therefore-our wenches?”

The pleading note to be heard within the voice of the male set Nobain to chuckling as he gestured forward those four who held the spoken-of captives. The gray-clad males urged their kand to stand beside and among the now smiling males of colored body cloths, riding close so that the two Sigurri and two Summa might be given over with the least amount of difficulty and awkwardness. Eagerly did the four males reach their arms out toward the captives they had been promised-only to meet the ending of their lives. Those in gray who held captives also held daggers beyond the sight of the four, and used them with dispatch, the sharpened edges in sides and backs bringing eternal silence to the four males. The Sigurri females screamed in terror, as did the town female, yet the males in gray were well pleased with their deed.

“How distressing,” said Nobain with a laugh, his eyes upon the last of the four to fall to the ground beside his kan. “Our generous offer has been refused, for these men no longer desire females. It seems we shall be forced to retain possession of all six of the wenches.”

Once having rid themselves of the unwanted, the gray-clad males then turned their set toward the caves which awaited them, leading off the kand of those who no longer had use for mounts. The fallen remained for the children of the wild. Again did I follow at a distance, soon finding it necessary to widen that distance. The trees had thinned enough so that even the males I followed would have seen me had I remained nearer, a thing I could not now allow.

It was now clear that Ilvin and the Summa were not to be simply used by their captors. When the males had taken all the pleasure they wished, the lives of their captives would be taken as well, leaving no opportunity for escape. Were I to find myself unable to free them their lives would be ended in great dishonor, all possibility of death in battle denied them, their entrance to Mida’s Realm forever barred through the shame given them. Such agony could not be allowed if it were possible to avert, and to this end had I pledged myself.

Without undue haste did the males continue on toward the caves, unconcerned by the deserted-seeming caves which were their goal. For nearly a hin did I follow, increasing the distance between us, and then did I rein in my kan and resolutely dismount. Well did I know that I must be nearer the set; and I had to dismount and continue on afoot, fleetly and silently from tree to tree beyond the sight of the males, closing with them as they reached their destination. I tied my kan to a tree, well within reach of what grass there was, hesitated, then left bow and shafts behind me. I knew I would regret having left the weapon, yet did I also anticipate the need to move invisibly within the caves ahead; were it necessary to conceal myself the bow would be a hindrance.

The pace I took to reach the males was much of a trot, sending me forward swiftly yet silently, a pace used much by warriors on the hunt for quarry which must be run down. The light of the fey had gone to red before me, and I closed my eyes to slits against the last of its efforts. Much more easily would the males have seen me than I them, therefore did I proceed with caution, most especially once I had nearly reached them. Then did I circle right and edge ahead, allowing them to come to me, a thing easily possible at the slow pace they kept to. I stood hidden among the growing shadows of a wide tree, awaiting their approach to the caves which were no more than three gando-strides ahead, then quickly drew back even farther. A male appeared about the leg of stone which stretched before the caves, his eyes upon the approaching set, and lazily did he walk out a bit to meet them.

“Ho, Nobain, we thought you had forgotten us,” he called to the set, grinning. Large and gray-clad was the male, and light of hair, his sword and dagger easily upon his hips. “The others returned a considerable time before you.”

“We were pursued by those sons of Sigurr and could not chase them from our trail for feyd,” returned the male Nobain, his voice its usual smoothness. “In the interim we encountered these wenches, took them from the Sigurri who had captured them, then thought to share them with our brothers. I trust our late arrival will yet be well looked upon.”

“Only by those of us remaining,” answered the other male with a laugh, his eyes moving slowly over the captives. “The bulk of our warriors have already departed upon the mission begged of us by the city. Will you leave immediately to follow them, or are we to have the pleasure of your company for this darkness?”

“I am of the opinion that our early success entitles us to at least a single darkness of taking our ease,” said Nobain, halting before the new male. “Should you and the others remaining behind disagree, we will certainly depart immediately.”

“No, no, by all means you must take your ease,” said the guard male with a further laugh, reaching a hand up to stroke the thigh of Ilvin. “Should you depart immediately, your company would be sorely missed. Those within will be pleased to offer falar when once you have seen to your kand.”

“Not nearly as pleased as we shall be to accept it,” said Nobain with matching amusement. “Not to speak of adequate provender. You must be sure to join us when your watch is done.”

“I shall be there within the hin,” nodded the guard male, stepping higher upon the beginning of the protruding stone leg. Nobain raised a hand in temporary farewell then urged his kan forward, followed eagerly by those of his set. The males rounded the stone leg and rode toward the caves which disappeared in shadow behind the leg, they too disappearing with their forward movement. Within a hand of reckid were they gone from sight, the guard male looking about once before following. I stood a moment considering the matter, then I crouched down in the shadow which hid me, to await the darkness and the replacement of the guard male before I entered behind Nobain and his captives; I knew the time would not be long.

When the darkness was at last complete all about, I straightened and breathed deeply of the sweet forest air. Within the caves were males, and where males dwelt, there might one find even the air fouled. The silence of the shadows was mine as I passed from forest to rock, on toward the caves. Beneath my feet the ground was gritty and sharp; nearly speaking of my presence with whispers and hisses, yet was I Midanna rather than city dweller. He who stood within the cave mouth, faint light trickling out from behind him, was not the male who had greeted Nobain, nor was he one to search the darkness with his eyes when none might approach without being heard. He lifted to his lips the skin he held, drank deeply, then pulled the back of his hand across his lips, a low sound of satisfaction accompanying the faint odor of falar brought upon the breeze. Not much difficulty was there in slipping up behind the male with dagger in hand, and in a moment the throat of the male was no longer able to hold falar. Without a sound did the male begin the journey to Mida’s chains, and quickly did I grasp the body and drag it some paces from the cave opening before allowing it to fall. Should one come seeking the male the while I and my warriors remained in the cave, he would not be easily found.

The entrance itself was wide enough for three to stand abreast, faint light to be seen within it, coming from a turning to the right beyond a short corridor of stone. Low voices and laughter accompanied the trickle of light, the while the odor of kand came from the left. The place the males had come to rest was clearly evident, yet did I halt just within the entrance I had won, remembering the cave entrance to Sigurr’s altar. Though I berated myself, I could not halt the faint tremors which seized my flesh and brought accursed weakness to my limbs, all through memory of thrice-damned Sigurr. There in the darkness I stood, bloody dagger in my hand, trembling with the fear which had been well taught me in a cave in another place. My free hand stole upward, toward my life-sign, seeking the comforting, strengthening presence which had ever sustained me, only to encounter naught save unadorned flesh. Only then did I recall that my life sign had been taken, in punishment for my having dallied with a male. Had I been city slave-woman I would have fallen to my knees and wept, yet was I Midanna, and one who had learned much of males; I hated Sigurr and all things male, including the manner in which the pleasure of male bodies lured a warrior. Much pain and deprivation had I suffered because of males, and though I continued to tremble at the thought of entering battle without my life sign, the thought of spilling male blood bested the trembling. Were I to be lost to the final darkness with all of my obligations unseen to, the shame would be forevermore unending-yet would I have first taken the lives of many males.

Once made, the decision took my steps to the right, toward the light and the sound of males. The turning in the rock continued on a short distance, then did it lead to the entrance of a large cavern. Spires of rock hung from the ceiling and grew from the floor of the cavern, graying the black of its outer reaches, and within the center of this cavern were the males, resting themselves upon lenga pelts and handing round large skins which undoubtedly contained falar. Their laughter was cruel and anticipatory, no doubt stemming from thoughts of that which they would do to their captives, who sat bound to spires toward the rear of the cavern. Faintly struggling were three of those captives, their attempts to free themselves no more than aborted movements in the gloom beyond the torches near the males. The thought came that swords would be welcome to the hands of those who struggled, and then did I curse my own stupidity and retrace my steps to the body of the slain guard. Though he had undoubtedly made little use of the sword he wore, still would the weapon be more than adequate in other, more highly skilled hands.

With the sword retrieved I returned to the cavern, then began the chore of making my way around to the captives without taking the notice of the males. There were open stretches which must be traversed, and I was burdened with an unsheathed weapon. Across these stretches did I go like the sednet, upon my belly with head low, slowly and with senses alert against detection, yet were the males too engrossed in provender and drink to espy me. Indeed I had reached a place no more than four paces from the first of the captives, when that occurred which took the attention of all.

“Nobain!” called a sudden harsh voice, drawing the silence and eyes of the male and his set, as well as those of the five hands of males who inhabited the caverns. From the dark before the entrance stepped he who was Gengan, he who had taken himself from the traveling set upon the trail. Wild-eyed yet with strangely forced calm did the red-haired male appear, and resolutely did he march himself to a place before the lounging Nobain. The second male looked up more in amusement than in upset, and sounded his usual, abrasive chuckle.

“So, Gengan, you have returned to yourself enough to rejoin us,” said he, drinking briefly from the skin he held. “Had we known you suffered from phantoms of the mind, we would have aided you to a return to health.”

“The sole phantoms which plague me are those of the slain!” returned Gengan, nearly with a sob, his hands closed to fists. “You led them on, causing them to believe that they would have the return of that which was theirs, using them as slaves about your camp to spare your own men the efforts, and then, when you no longer needed them, you slew them! You forced me to unbearable bestiality and lust so that I would in no manner be able to council and caution them, yet I understood this far too late to protect their lives. You are no other thing than evil, Nobain, yet will your evil not long continue!”

“Calmly, Gengan, calmly,” soothed Nobain, his tone smooth and uncaring. “We slew none save followers of the accursed Sigurr, a thing you would know were you in full health. All else is the product of your illness, and you must allow us to aid you.”

“You would aid me to death, as you aided my brothers!” sobbed Gengan, his chest heaving as though with great effort. “You will pay for your evil, Nobain, as surely as I am a Pathfinder for those who follow the true way! I have seen your death upon the Snows, and therefore have I come to challenge you! Arise and face me, Nobain, and face as well the fate you cannot avoid!”

With slaking hands did Gengan drag forth the blade he wore, stumbling backward a few steps to allow the rising of Nobain. He who called himself warrior put aside the skin he held with a sigh, shook his head in helpless surrender, then rose to his feet.

“Gengan, brother, do not force me to harm you,” said Nobain, his weapon drawn with a speed and ease which put the other male to shame. “You are ill, and cannot hope to match me. Put up your blade, and we shall . . .”

No further words were allowed the male as Gengan retook the steps he had given up, immediately swinging his weapon toward the covertly delighted Nobain. The youngest of warriors-to-be would have found avoidance of the stroke a thing of ease, therefore was Nobain able to deflect it smoothly with his own blade. Again and again the red-haired Gengan struck, seeking to reach the other male, yet was he clumsy and totally without skill. For a hand of reckid did Nobain fend him off, finding amusement in the sobbing vexation of the male who stood before him, and then did he tire of the foolishness and thrust his sword into the other male, low and hard to give the greatest pain before death. A small pouch was sheared away from Gengan’s belt at the thrust, incongruously falling to the stone the while Gengan remained erect, eyes wide in disbelief and sword frozen in upraised arm. For two heartbeats did he remain so, and then a scream of torment escaped his lips, a scream filled with raging denial, shocked disbelief, and soul-tearing pain. All save Nobain cringed somewhat at the sound and then it was done, the spirit of Gengan having fled his body. The untenanted body fell to the stone at Nobain’s feet, causing him to quickly free his sword with a wrench, and then did he look at the one who had faced him.

“Farewell, brother,” intoned Nobain, again taken with a sigh. “Had you not been ill your life would not have been so uselessly lost, and yet this may perhaps be for the best. The Serene Oneness undoubtedly ached with the agony you suffered, and now joys in the peace you have found. I am the instrument of the Serene Oneness, therefore do I share his joy even in my grief.”

Those who were of the caves murmured in admiration and agreement, putting sly smiles upon the faces of many of Nobain’s set. Again had Nobain taken the life of an innocent, yet had he made it seem a noble act to keep the wrath of others from him. How low a sednet was this Nobain, more than sufficient to turn the stomach of any who was forced to watch him.

Two of the cavern males rose to see to Gengan’s body, Nobain pausing no longer than to clean his sword before returning to his place and his falar skin. I had used the time of the battle, brief as it was, to make my way to where Ilvin and the Summa sat bound, silently thanking Mida for having seen to it that the three were placed one beside the other. My hair snarled about my arms as I pulled myself across the stone floor to a point just behind them, and impatiently I shook it back while the hum of laughter and conversation arose again among the males.

“Sisters, you are not alone,” I whispered below the sound of the males, striving to keep my voice from all those save Ilvin and the Summa. “I have come to free you, yet have I been able to secure no more than one additional weapon. The strongest of you must stand beside me, guarding my back the while I win further weapons from these males. When all are armed, we may depart this place with none to halt us.”

Not one of the three heads turned to me, none foolish enough to betray my presence to the males, nor did any of the three jump to her feet once my dagger had parted the leather which bound them. I replaced my dagger in its leg bands, paused a brief moment to peer out at the males above Ilvin’s shoulder, then did I jump to my feet and vault between Hitta and Summa, dropping the male’s sword at their feet as I drew mine from my scabbard.

“In the name of Mida, and for the glory of the Hitta and Summa clans!” I shouted, standing wide-legged and ready as I gazed upon the startled, exclaiming males. “Stand with me, sisters, and we shall soon be gone from here!”

Many of the males rose quickly to their feet at my appearance, drawing their weapons and looking about themselves as though expecting others to appear about the cavern. Though I was prepared for immediate attack none launched themselves toward me to engage in battle, therefore did I throw a quick glance back toward the three Midanna to see who would be the one to stand with me. The glance I took became a stare, for none of the three had gained her feet! The light-haired Summa remained leaning upon the stone spire with her back, one arm dragged forward while the other kept its place behind her, the place in which it had been when bound. The other Summa, she of the dark hair, and Ilvin, had both fought themselves free of the spires which had held them, yet was the Summa fallen to her left side and Ilvin sprawled half forward, sweating with the effort. Their limbs moved feebly, mere twitches rather than true movements, their lips opened in attempted speech, the dullness of forced lethargy peering out from their eyes. Clearly they had been fed some Mida-forsaken brew of males, and though they tried with all their strength, they could not stand with me!

“It appears our fair visitor is unaccompanied,” Nobain said. The males stood about in amusement now, no longer alarmed, no longer seeking those who had attacked with me. It was fully plain that I had come alone, a fool of a warrior who had believed that Mida stood with her. No battle is done till the final stroke, yet was I now not far from just such a stroke. I had been allowed my arrogance and blindness, and now would another most certainly be chosen to ride for Mida, for Jalav would soon be no more. I would face the males alone, without my life sign, and would either be cut down or taken captive for later slaying. My fist tightened about my hilt, the cold emptiness growing in my belly matched fully by my earlier resolve; many males would accompany me to the final darkness, for I would not again be taken as slave.

“What more than one warrior is needed to best males?” I asked with sneering challenge, seeking to bring the males to anger and thereafter immediate attack. “I am Jalav, war leader of all the Midanna, and have come to free those warriors of mine you hold captive.”

“We would much prefer that you join them,” the male Nobain replied, his accursed amusement halting those who would have come forward in a rush. We stood four or five paces apart, the males and I, and clearly did all begin to show the look most males took on at sight of Jalav.

“Never have I seen one to match her,” muttered one male of the caverns, stepping up beside Nobain, his point fallen to the ground. “Her pull is greater than that of that wench of yours, Nobain, and I would be the first to claim her.”

“She must first be disarmed before she might be claimed,” returned Nobain, the smooth persuasiveness having returned to his voice. “Do you fancy yourself able to accomplish this without seriously harming her?”

“As easily as you,” replied the cavern male, a faint amusement coming to him at the sudden flash of anger to be seen in the eyes of Nobain. “I know you, brother, and will not be put off by your supposed eagerness to have me make the attempt. The light-haired wench is yours, and with her you must be content. This one will first be mine.”

With that the male turned from Nobain and again raised his point, then confidently strode forward to face me. It was clear he anticipated little difficulty in his undertaking, yet was I not of a mind to oblige him. His first attempted stroke was to my wrist, his intention to cause me to drop my weapon; my return stroke merely brushed his aside, my intention being to feign small skill and thereby draw others into the attempt. A sound of annoyance came from the male, and then was I looked upon with severity.

“Wench, you cannot stand against me, therefore are you to surrender immediately!” he scolded, his tone stern and uncompromising. “Should it become necessary for me to wound you seriously before I might take you, you will be soundly beaten!”

“To either wound or punish, you must first conquer,” said I, finding it difficult to credit the foolishness of the male. Sooner would I have faced Nobain, he who merited slaying many times over, he who now spoke softly to two of his set who stood beside him.

“I shall certainly conquer!” growled the male before me, gripping his weapon and beating at me with strength. Perhaps the male imagined his weapon a branch instead, yet was I sufficiently startled by so mindless an attempt that I slipped his stroke and put my point to his throat. I had not intended slaying the male so quickly nor so easily, yet did my earlier ruse in some manner bear fruit.

“The slut took him unawares!” shouted another of the cavern males, seeing his brother fold silently to the rock beneath our feet. “We must have her blood to pay for his!”

Quickly did he raise his weapon and rush toward me, just as quickly being joined by another of their number, their charging forms sending jagged shadows in the torchlight. With two so intent upon spitting me, I could no longer control my feelings. Battle pleasure rose so strongly that a purr escaped my throat. Mida! The glory of battle at last! And then the first of the males reached me and began laying about himself, as though he faced a hand or more of those who came in attack upon him. The purr died in my throat and red-lined rage grew in its place, so keen was the disappointment I felt; this second male had fully as much skill as the first. So great a warrior was he that I was able to keep watch upon the other who came, the while I kept his wildly swinging point from my flesh. When the two at last stood before me I raised my voice in the piercing Hosta battle cry. The males, startled, gave ground to my charge, and then did they give their lives; a slash left and right took the throats from them, their own blades uselessly elsewhere. Now was it clear as to why these males had been left behind upon the departure of the others: their battle skills were so greatly lacking that to take them against Sigurri warriors would have surely brought about their ending. Had I had even one other Midanna to stand with me, easily would we have slain the lot of them.

And yet I had no other Midanna to stand with me. Though three now lay in their own blood at my feet and those two who had carried away the empty husk of Gengan had not yet returned, still were the numbers of the males too great for a single warrior. Those who stood about now looked upon me with fear touching them, and it came to me that there might yet be a manner of besting them all.

“You have said you would joy in having my use,” I called to them, holding firm to the red-tipped sword in my fist. “Should this continue to be so, I give challenge to the leader amongst you. Let that one face me if he dares, and the outcome of battle shall decide. Should I stand victorious at the end of it, I shall take my warriors and go.”

“And should you not stand victorious, it is you who shall be taken,” said Nobain, his voice rising above the surrounding hubbub. The male spoke with the cool arrogance which was usual to him, his smirk likely calculated to anger me, yet was I other than an unblooded warrior-to-be or a fool of a male. I, too, grew a smile, one with the fangs of the hadat in it.

“To speak of a thing is not to see it done,” said I, giving the male look for look. “Do you mean to face me with weapons, or slay me with the boredom of speech?”

Much of a fool did I feel, boasting witlessly in the manner of males, yet had I done so before in order to bring about the battle I required. The light eyes of Nobain grew cold as the males about him fell in silence, all eager for revenge. A low, muffled grunt sounded behind me, undoubtedly from one of the warriors who struggled in the bonds of the drug which held them, yet was I unable to turn and assist her. The males ranged before and about me, well to left and right, and I could not take my eyes from them lest two or three slip past to my unguarded back.

“To defeat a wench requires little effort from a man,” said Nobain, drawing his blade slowly, as though to frighten me with sight of the weapon. “Those you slew were warriors in name alone, as I am not. I shall do you the honor of facing you for a short time, wench, and then shall I honor you further by using you. You will find pain in that use, yet will you learn to beg that pain as though it were the deepest of pleasures. You have my word.”

I made no effort to remark upon the qualities of the word of one such as he, for the male moved forward quickly, brought himself past those three who had fallen, then attacked with moderate strength. Indeed was Nobain more skillful with a blade than those others I had faced, yet was he short of the skill shown by those Sigurri such as Mehrayn and Aysayn and Chaldrin. His weapon flashed here and there, seeking my flesh, finding no more than the golden blade of Mida barring his path, the exchange, after a moment, bringing greater anger to his eyes. Again I felt the smile of the hadat take me, for I had not yet answered the attacks of the male in kind, nor would I till he knew himself thoroughly bested. Much anguish had this male given others, those who were no match for him, and much did I wish to return the same before I took his life. Well might Mida retain him for her chains, and should she do so, all eternity would be spent by his recalling the shame he had been given.

My smile brought greater effort from the male, his attack increasing in strength, the sound of his blade ringing against mine, dinning in the ears of all who watched. His frustration at being unable to reach me grew so great that he attempted to disembowel me, the wide, unreasoning swipe dragging his blade and arm swiftly past me. Swifter yet was my reply to such foolishness and Nobain jumped back with a shout, his upper arm deeply scored by the flick of my blade. I had as yet spent very little effort upon the male, doing no more than turning his blade, yet such play fighting was tiresome for one used to true battle. At his retreat I began to advance, fully prepared to end the farce, the match, and Nobain as well, and surely was the male able to see this in my eyes; his high color faded quickly and a took of desperate decision entered his eves.

“I will waste no further time and effort upon this foolishness!” he shouted, backing again before I might reach him, nearly tripping upon the husk of one of those who had faced me before him. “The patience of a warrior is at an end. Take her!”

The words of treachery were not totally unexpected, yet was it difficult to see from where that treachery would come. No other male was within sword reach of me, nor did any of those nearest draw their weapons. I looked quickly about, seeing naught, and then caught sight of a male swiftly uncoiling a heavy fighting whip. One of those with whom Nobain had been speaking was he, and even as I began to turn to him the memory came that there had been another—yet the memory came to late. From my other side came the crack of a second whip, causing agony to flare in the hand which held my sword. Nearly did I cry out as my fingers flew open as a red streak appeared across my hand, the thin, sharpened metal braided within the end of the leather freeing my blood as easily as would a sword. In fury and desperation I knelt, my hair falling across my arms as I stretched wildly for my sword, yet the crack of the whip came again and filled my hand before the hilt. This time were my palm and inner fingers abruptly slick and red, and the pain that flew from hand to arm to body nearly flattened me. Both knees to the stone, I groped, left handed, shuddering at the pain in my right, and then came the next slash, this time to the left.

“Now you need no longer think of challenging a man, wench,” said Nobain, laughter full in his tone as I fought in vain to flex my hands against the flaming pain. “You are no longer able to hold a sword, yet have you been left able to hold another thing, elsewhere than in your hands. Each man here shall have you, and then we may speak again of challenge.”

A snarl of unbounded hatred took me as I looked up at the male, my blood dripping freely to the stone before me. To Mida did I swear that I would have his throat out with my teeth if he were insane enough to approach me without the aid of others, and indeed did he sheathe his sword and begin to move toward me. The blood which fell from his arm gave him no pause, yet was he able to take no more than a single step before the voice of another brought him to a halt.

“Perhaps you will speak of challenge with me,” came the words of an angry voice I recognized. Nobain spun about to see the broad form of Mehrayn, astand with sword gripped tightly in fist, thoroughly enraged. Beside Mehrayn stood Chaldrin, a deep coldness in the depth of his eyes. Here and there about the cavern appeared other black-clad males of the Sigurri, perhaps two hands of them, all with weapons drawn, bringing gasps and moans of shock from those who stood with Nobain. No idea had they of the manner in which the Sigurri had appeared so abruptly, nor was I more well informed than they; the Sigurri had come from out of the air, it seemed, at a time when their enemies had least expected them.

Nobain was given no opportunity for reply; in the blink of an eye were the two sets of males upon one another, those of the caverns seeking to best the intruders with the weight of greater numbers. Swords rang and males cursed and lunged, yet was it immediately clear that my earlier thoughts upon the skill possessed by those of the cavern was truth: by ones and twos they quickly fell before the warriors of Sigurr, and then was Nobain’s set the target for their swords. Nobain himself faced Mehrayn, a male who now fought much as a Midanna would, giving no heed to what his opponent might attempt, concerned with naught save downing him. Nobain fought wildly and with great fear, seeking desperately to preserve his life, yet was his sword struck savagely aside, Mehrayn’s sword seeking and finding an avenue to the center of his skull. He who had professed himself a follower of the Serene Oneness fell to the stone of the floor with his head cloven in twain, and then was Chaldrin before me, blocking off sight of all else.

“Stay as you are, wench,” said the male of other caverns, looking carefully about to make sure no enemy male approached before he crouched down before me. Large and broad and thick in the waist was Chaldrin, dark-haired and dark-eyed and thickly covered with dark body hair where his white body cloth did not cover him. Also did he continue to wear a white cloth about his middle to cover the wound I had given him, yet had that wound not kept him from seeing his sword well streaked with red. He set his weapon upon the stone beside him, within easy reach should the need arise, and then attempted to take my hands in his.

“No, you must let me see them,” said he, referring to my withdrawal. So great was the pain I felt that the cavern had begun to move somewhat about me, as though it had come loose from the rock and stone which held it. I had no wish to give voice to that pain, yet I might were the gaping, bloody wounds to be touched.

“You may see my hands as you wish, male,” said I, my voice far too thin and small, “yet are you not to touch them. They have already been touched by those who are male, and have no further need of such helpful attentions. When my Midanna have regained themselves, I will have what aid I require.”

“By then you will have bled to death,” said he, annoyed, as he glanced at the warriors behind me. “They are all of them senseless from the exertions they attempted, and Sigurr alone knows when they will recover. The Sword believes you safely attended to by me, therefore does he lead his men in pursuit of those followers of the foul Oneness who have fled to escape a well-earned death. Will you give me the necessity of having to face him when he returns to find that you continue uncared for?”

I had seen that Mehrayn had indeed led his males deeper into the caverns in pursuit of those who fled their swords, nor had I missed the searching look he had sent toward me before departing. All thoughts in my head had grown fuzzy-edged through the presence of blazing, throbbing pain, and abruptly was I seated upon the stone rather than kneeling upon it, my bloody hands somewhat cradled at my middle.

“The decision is mine, therefore shall his anger be mine as well,” I muttered, looking curiously about at the torches which had illuminated the cavern. All continued to burn as they had earlier, yet in some manner their light had begun dimming and darkening. “Should his anger come, it may join that of Mida, which continues to pursue me. I must depart this place and again take up my task, else shall Mida be taken with fury rather than anger—”

Without further strength for words I left off speaking, but had I forgotten the dimming of the torches. When I attempted to rise to my feet, their light went quickly to blackness.

I awoke more slowly than was usual with me, feeling a heavy sluggishness that was unexplained till I attempted to put my hands to the fur I lay on and push myself to sitting. Sharp pain flared, causing me to draw my breath in sharply. Memory returned then of what had occurred before the darkness took me, and I raised my hands to see the red-dotted cloth which covered them from wrists to fingertips. Surely had Chaldrin been the one to tend me, and in some manner had lessened the pain which had earlier held me-when I made no attempt to use the hands. It was necessary to raise myself to sitting without them, a thing which had been accomplished more easily at other times.

Once erect I looked about, wondering how I had come to that place. A small chamber of stone was it, lit by a torch and closed off with a stout, metal-clad wooden door. Within the chamber stood some few wooden kegs and assorted sacks, putting the odor of dried provender and much falar in the air. To the rear of the chamber, beyond the sacks and kegs, had a fur been placed, the one upon which I now sat. I moved somewhat in discomfort and annoyance, unable to free my hair properly from beneath me, unable to catch sight of where my sword and dagger had been put, and then was the great wooden door thrust open so that Mehrayn might enter. Carefully did he bring within two wooden pots, one carrying the odor of cooked nilno, the other the odor of lellin broth, and when his eyes touched me, he smiled.

“Jalav, you are awake!” said he, bringing forward the bowls to set them upon the stone by the furs before returning to the door to close it once again. “Chaldrin assured me that the balm would take the pain from you, and I would know if he spoke the truth.”

Closely were his eyes upon me as he returned to crouch before the furs I sat upon, a deep anxiety clear in the green pools which sought my soul. Much had I felt the absence of this large, red-haired Sigurri, yet to speak of my feelings would have been idle. Jalav rode as Mida sent her, and none would be allowed to lure her from that path.

“The pain has been taken so long as I remain unmoving,” said I, aware of how thick my tongue continued to feel. “Perhaps, after a short while, it will aid during movement as well. You have my thanks for your assistance, male. The other knew naught of honor and shamed himself in challenge, yet cared not. Much would it have pleased me to have taken his life myself, yet am I nearly as well pleased that it was you who was given the pleasure.”

“Pleasure indeed,” said Mehrayn, a merciless look claiming him as his voice hardened. “I recalled the man as soon as I faced him, for I was one of those who pursued him when he fled our city. His crime was the senseless murder of a temple slave, a foul act which sickened all who learned of it. The slave was tortured before attaining the release of death, and for no reason other than that it pleased the filth to do her so. Had we caught him before he took refuge with those who follow the Oneness, he would have been put to death in the same manner as she whose life he took. How did you become entangled with him?”

“He and his males held captive three warriors of the Midanna,” I replied. “Even had I been willing to abandon Ilvin, who followed me in disobedience to my will, I could not stand before the enemy clans and demand the leadership of them after having left two of their number to their fate. It was therefore necessary that I free the Summa before continuing on with my task.”

“Your task,” echoed Mehrayn, looking strangely at me. “A task which you insisted you were to attempt alone, and which then became another task. Was it demanded by your Mida that this second task also be seen to alone, or was there a reason other than that which kept you from returning and asking Sigurri assistance?”

“You would have had me seek out males to assist in the freeing of Midanna?” I asked, amused at so strange a suggestion. “Never do males seek to aid Midanna, only to use them. It was my intention to see those warriors ride free, not to cause them to be chained in alcoves for Sigurri pleasure.”

Much did it seem that Mehrayn was hurt and angered then, yet where would have come the reason for such feelings? Had I, myself, not been made slave by the Sigurri, finding freedom solely through the strength of my swordarm and their belief that I rode as a messenger of their god?

“So you continue to see us as no more than ‘males,’ ” said Mehrayn, his bitterness taking the amusement from me. “Was it with thoughts of use that Chaldrin followed you, intending to allow none to keep him from raising his sword beside yours? Was it with thoughts of use that he hastened back to me, to speak of the enemy trail you had for some reason taken up? Was it with thoughts of use that we all rode after, praying to Sigurr that we find you before harm came from those followers of the putrid Oneness? Surely it was with thoughts of use that we slew them all, saw to your wounds, and gave comfort and easing of those poor creatures who had been so brutally used!”

Much indignation flashed from the eyes of Mehrayn, his head held high as he looked down upon me, his body stiff in the crouch he had taken. I, myself, felt no more than confusion, for Ceralt had also once spoken in such a manner. Always did these males make unreasonable demands upon a warrior; how was a warrior to know what moved a male?

“What other reason might there have been?” I asked, the words faltering. No more than the distant ache in my hands did I feel, and then was the anger and indignation gone from the male.

“It gives me pain that no other reason occurs to you,” he sighed, “a pain which stems mainly from a deeper understanding of that which has been done to you to cause you to feel so. Suffice it to say that we are here, and shall not allow further harm to come to your wenches. You may rest easy in the knowledge that you have my word.”

“The word of Mehrayn has proven honorable,” I assured him, seeking to take the sadness from his eyes. “Jalav accepts it gladly, and without reserve.”

“You do me great honor, I know,” said Mehrayn, a faint smile turning his lips as his hand reached out to stroke my hair. “Now must you do me further honor by partaking of that which I have brought. First the broth, to ease the knots of pain from your belly, and then the nilno, to restore some portion of the blood and flesh which was lost to you. Do you feel yourself capable of holding the nilno within?”

“I shall make the effort,” said I, for the first time looking directly within the pot which held the nilno. Barely warmed by the fire was it, bloody and raw as I most preferred it, yet did my insides lurch some small amount at the sight. Wounds often stole the appetite from a warrior; however I had to fortify myself for the journey I must immediately resume. I reached my hands out to the pot of broth, saw the cloth covering them before recalling its presence, then made a small sound of annoyance. No other than a male would bind a warrior’s hands so closely, and clearly would the cloth need to be removed before I might again take up sword and dagger and kan’s reins.

“Here, I will assist you,” said Mehrayn, his large hand taking the pot of broth from the stone and raising it toward my lips. No more than a moment did I hesitate, greatly displeased with the need for assistance, but I needed the provender so I could be on my way. I therefore drank the broth with my eyes upon the pot, pushing away thinly insistent thoughts of humiliation, giving no heed to the strong pleasure which fairly hummed from Mehrayn. I had no understanding of the pleasure males felt from doing a warrior in such an odd manner, yet was I certain of my dislike of it.

With all of the broth within me, Mehrayn then took up the nilno, which had been cut small as though in anticipation of difficulty on my part to do the thing for myself. Indeed would I have had difficulty in wielding a dagger, yet did I dislike such solicitous reminder of supposed helplessness. Jalav was a warrior and war leader of the Midanna, and well able was she to see to her own well-being! As Mehrayn looked within the pot for a cut to his liking, it came to me that the broth was all I was then able to hold; the nilno would turn my insides about, therefore it was best left behind me.

“I find I have no stomach for further provender,” I informed Mehrayn the while I rose unsteadily to my feet. Though I seldom used my hands to assist me, just then their aid would not have been unwelcome. “When hunger returns to me upon the trail, I shall hunt and feed my fill.”

“Trail?” echoed Mehrayn sharply, looking up quickly. “Hunt? What nonsense do you speak? You cannot take to the trail with your hands in ribbons.”

“I may do no other thing.” I shrugged, looking about with some small difficulty among the sack and kegs. “Where have my sword and dagger been put? I shall require them upon my journey. ”

“Wench, you journey nowhere save in return to this fur!” the male growled, putting aside the pot and straightening to the fullness of his height. “You have no need of weapons you are unable to wield, solely do you have need of rest and care so that you may be restored! To speak of taking to the trail now is idiocy, an idiocy I shall not allow!”

“There is naught you may say upon the matter,” I told him, gesturing aside the foolishness of his prattle. “Still do I ride in the name of Mida, and no mortal male may stand in my path. Go and fetch my weapons at once, and think only upon your word in regard to my warriors. They must be released as soon as they are able to ride, for we will require all of their swords when the strangers have come.”

I turned my back upon the lowering look he gave me, tossed my hair back from about my arms, and took myself unsteadily toward the metal-bound, wooden door.

“Should it be your expectation that I shall leap to obey your commands, you are destined to find disappointment, O war leader of Midanna,” came the angry words from behind me. “I do not leap to obey foolish girl-children, merely do I ignore their chatter and see to that which must be done. Return to this fur immediately, else shall I return you to it!”

“No longer have I the time to dally with males!” I snapped. “There has already been far too much of such idle foolishness, for which I have paid a high price in loss and pain! Should it become necessary to pay further, I may well fail to survive to do as I must! I will not see my Midanna leaderless and my Hosta left captive to males, solely by cause of my lack of sense of duty! Now, where are my weapons?”

“Woman, you speak utter nonsense!” Mehrayn exclaimed, more annoyed. “To consider your actions the cause of all that has occurred is the height of idiocy! To believe that you must take yourself into the forests this very moment, wounded and alone, is even greater idiocy! What will become of your wenches when you find yourself unable to defend against the prowlers of the forests? Or when you discover you are unable to hunt for the sustenance you require? You will fall a final time with none to know of it, nothing accomplished.”

He stood with hands upon swordbelt, anger darkening his skin and blazing forth from the green of his eyes. Much would it have pleased me to find a male capable of sense and logic, one who knew and acknowledged the ways of the gods, yet was such an expectation idle. No more than males were they, each like unto the next, of use in no place other than a warrior’s sleeping leather. I shook my head, then did I turn again toward the closed door.

“Mida will see to the safety and provender of her warrior,” said I, putting a final end to the discussion. “I will find my sword and dagger alone.”

Then was it necessary to give full attention to the door before me. To my surprise, the thing was made as no other door I had yet seen. No push plate adorned it, showing it was not meant to swing freely as the doors of the cities, nor was there leather and latch upon it, as was to be found upon the dwellings of Belsayah villages. No more than a rounded leg of metal protruded from the door at a point perhaps mid-high, near to that place where the metal-bound edge of the door met the metal frame it stood within. I nudged the door with my toes, attempting to see how it moved, yet it moved not, even when I nudged it again with greater strength. The thing stood silent and immovable, and a chuckle came from just behind me.

“In order for your Mida to see to your safety and provender upon the trail,” said Mehrayn, “she must first see to the opening of that door. Surely so unimportant a thing will not be allowed to stand in your way.”

“I do not know the method of its opening,” said I through teeth clenched in anger, keeping my gaze from the accursed male. “You, of course, will refuse to speak of it.”

“On the contrary, wench, I consider it my duty to assist you,” said he, considerable amusement to be heard in the words. “One need only grasp the metal latch, push it down, then turn it in a full circle and pull to the right. The door will then open easily with no more than the slightest pull.”

I continued to keep my gaze upon the dark, aged wood of the door, silently calling down the curse of Mida upon the heads of all males who would devise such things as that door. In order to perform the doing one must be able to grasp the leg of metal, a thing I was then unable to accomplish. Indeed did I attempt to close one hand about the cloth covering it, only to nearly moan at the flash of returning agony. A fury rose up in me that I might be closed in so effortlessly, causing me to attempt the leg of metal with my arms; the Mida-forsaken leg sprang back to its resting place the moment I attempted beginning the circle, no matter that I made the attempt over and over again. A growl rose to my throat with the last of it, to accompany the sweat of frustration and effort which covered me, and then did a big hand come to my shoulder.

“That mechanism is designed to keep without all those unfamiliar with it,” said Mehrayn, in a soothing tone. “Also shall it keep within one who is as yet unfit to take to the trail. Return to the fur, wench, and allow your strength to find you again.”

“I shall not!” I ground out, jerking my head about to glare up at him. “I shall go my way as I am meant to do! In Mida’s name do I demand that this accursed door be opened!”

“Now do I know for certain that the wounds have affected you,” said he, his brows low with disapproval as he withdrew his hand. “Though we have often shared words of disagreement, never before have you sounded the willful, demanding child. You go nowhere save to your furs, wench, and the door shall remain as it is.”

With such words did he bend and lift me in his arms, and then return me to the fur I had left. Much did I shout and kick and attempt to struggle, yet all to no avail. Despite the closeness of the room a covering fur was placed upon me, and when I attempted to rid myself of it agony flared in my hands. I moaned as the searing pain intensified, then moaned again when Mehrayn’s hand touched my brow; so cool was that hand that I shivered to my soul, unable to fend off the feeling. The torchlight danced and shuddered in the dimness, partially illuminating the odd look which had taken Mehrayn, much as though deep concern held him close. Long reckid passed in my attempt to escape, and longer hind, yet was Mehrayn inescapable. I fought and struggled though all strength was lost to me, and then, at the end of strength, came the darkness.