The Will of the Gods

4 An abrupt departure—and the will of the gods

Fully had I expected Mehrayn to depart the camp with the new light in return to his city. My use of Chaldrin was to have shown him there was naught between him and me in accordance with his own views, yet had I forgotten how greatly lacking were males in reason. When we again took to the trail Mehrayn and his males were with us, he who was called Sigurr’s Sword silent and grim.

Of those who rode in our set, no other save Ilvin emulated Mehrayn. The pale-haired Hitta warrior was fully disturbed, for the two Sigurri who accompanied Mehrayn had accepted her use for the darkness with wide grins. They, unlike Chaldrin, had not considered even briefly the allowing of Ilvin her own method of use, instead taking their pleasure by making Ilvin helpless to their demands. The Hitta’s time in the capture of the followers of the Oneness had been harsh and cruel, ill preparing her for the use which Chaldrin and the Sigurri took. To be used with no thought for her own pleasure allows a warrior the dignity of hatred and the considering of revenge, yet to be made to feel great desire and need before she is granted use brings naught save humiliation. The consternation in Ilvin’s eyes showed she began to learn the lesson I had meant for her, the lesson teaching what might well have been her fate forever.

Wedin and Dotil had looked fondly upon the gray-haired male S’Heernoh when all three were mounted, and the male had returned their look with amused delight. It had pleased the Summa to allow the male their use rather than taking his, and they had not regretted their decision. Despite the age of the male he had been able to satisfy both of those he followed, which put a knowledge of justification for the request she had made in Wedin’s eyes.

The new light showed Chaldrin silent yet extremely pleased, and that despite the fact that he had chosen not to see the cold-eyed stare which Mehrayn had bestowed upon him. He no longer seemed concerned over facing Mehrayn, and this, to me, seemed one with the balance of the doings of males. For what reason would one fear a meeting one fey, and be unconcerned over it the next? Had the fear been mine it should certainly have increased, for Mehrayn had been the sole male in camp to fail to find release the darkness previous. All know that males must have the use of a female else their surliness increases, yet Chaldrin seemed to care not. Puzzlement accompanied me as I rode beside the Summa, speaking to them of Bellinard and city ways, yet this brought no more than amusement to Chaldrin.

For our mid-fey meal was there smoked toray, the last of the beast the heat of the land would allow us to taste. I fed with more relish than I had the darkness previous, and also did I come to the decision that more must be done to rid myself of the presence of Mehrayn. To allow him to remain with my set was to invite disaster, for one may not know what foolishness will suddenly enter the head of a male such as he. The sense of dignity he possessed was considerable, therefore I thought that bruising his dignity might well send him to ride elsewhere. When Chaldrin left my side to speak to Ilvin upon some matter which displeased him, with S’Heernoh also gone to look over the hooves of his kan, I turned to the Summa and briefly discussed my thoughts with them. Both grinned with amusement though they did not fully understand, and both agreed to assist me. Our journey to their homelands would be long, and diversions on such a journey were welcome indeed.

Nearly were we prepared to resume our journey, when Wedin and Dotil strolled toward where the three black-clad Sigurri warriors stood. Mehrayn paid them little mind and moved off toward the kand, yet were his males eager for their attention, puffing themselves up and grinning at the Summas’ approach. Soft words were at first exchanged between the four, and then did Wedin laugh aloud the while Dotil grinned.

“Our interest in the males about us has its limit, Gidain,” said Wedin to the Sigurri who had spoken to them the fey previous, her voice loud. “For what reason would we find interest in one who was spurned by all others? That warrior is foolish who takes the use of a male out of pity.”

“Indeed,” said Dotil in agreement, taking no heed of the manner in which both Sigurri paled and attempted to gesture the Summa to silence. “The male must truly be clumsy and inept, far beyond the few words of derision Jalav has spoken, despite the heartiness of his appearance. He continues to follow a war leader who has wearied of his clumsiness, most likely through there being no other female who will have him. And you would have us offer him use, as though he were worthy of our attentions? Seldom have we heard such foolishness.”

“You have not heard such foolishness this time!” hissed the male Gidain, filled with fury, yet were his words far too late. He had hesitated in speechlessness after Dotil had done speaking, and a furiously red-faced Mehrayn had jumped to the back of his kan and ridden off. I felt a bottomless relief at the ending of Mehrayn’s intentions to challenge those he had no hope of finding victory over, and stood looking after him where he had disappeared into the forest, pleased beyond words. The Summa had done well in using his pride against him, I thought, yet strangely enough another was not as pleased as I.

“To have a man treated so is naught to smile over,” said S’Heernoh to me, great disapproval evident in the sharpness of his gaze. “He has done naught to deserve such humiliation at the hands of a wench.”

“You speak to no wench but a war leader, male,” said I, my words cold with the passing of surprise, my body stiffening in insult. “Should you wish to continue speaking so, first find a blade to give you the right. Insult may not be given by one who fears to arm himself.”

“I do not fear to arm myself,” said the gray-haired male, his gaze continuing to hold mine, “nor do I speak insult. I speak no more than truth, a truth which you, war leader, refuse to hear. I have listened to many words concerning the humiliation which others have given you, yet are they no more than words, to be spoken and forgotten. You give humiliation as freely as those who gave the same to you, and then do you excuse your actions by loud protestations that you will not refuse the challenge. How gracious of you, to allow the challenge to those who have no hope of besting you! You impose your will upon all those about you, never pausing to consider whether or not you have the right of the thing, giving hurt to those who would not return that hurt even at peril of their lives! When first we met I admired you, war leader, yet now—”

His words ended abruptly, as though he had no need to speak the last of them, and in truth he had not. I might perhaps have spoken of the truth he had not seen, yet did I turn from him instead and go to my kan. Far better Mehrayn suffer the small hurt and be kept from the greater, and this I would continue to believe no matter the beliefs of others.

Our journey through the forests continued in silence, all deeply enmeshed in thoughts of their own. The two Sigurri males had been unsure upon the point of continuing on with us, for their purpose had been to accompany Mehrayn, who was no longer with the set. Had it been I, I would have followed his track to see where he had gone, yet the two Sigurri seemed reluctant to face the one who was their leader. That they had spoken naught of the request attributed to them by Wedin and Dotil had no meaning, for Mehrayn might well be too embarrassed and ashamed to heed their protestations of innocence. They chose to continue with our set the while they considered what other thing might be done, yet did they ride far to the rear, away from the balance of us.

Wedin and Dotil had disliked the words spoken to me by their male, yet had S’Heernoh turned a deaf ear toward their attempt to remonstrate with him. He rode ahead of us upon his gray kan, his gaze turned inward, his silence a strong rebuke against what the Summa had done. Chaldrin continued to ride beside me, yet his gaze spoke of the displeasure he felt and also of his anger. It irked me that the males behaved so, as though it would have been better had I allowed Mehrayn to remain where his life would surely have been placed in jeopardy, yet wasn’t irrationality to be expected from males? It requires a warrior to think clearly, and males, no matter that they took the calling to themselves, were scarcely warriors.

Perhaps two hind passed in undisturbed travel, and then was our set forced to turn our path east. The sounds of lenga battle came to us clearly from ahead and to the west, the volume of growling and screaming speaking of a great gathering. Well might it have been a mating gathering, which all those who rode and lived within the forests were wise enough to avoid. After a while were caves again visible to us in the distance, far ahead through the trees, so that we had to turn north again if we were not to be halted by the stone of their presence. This we began to do, and then did a deep rumble come to us from out of the distance.

“The skies begin to speak with Sigurr’s anger,” said Chaldrin, seeking sight of the blue which lay above the tops of the trees we rode through. “Perhaps it was unwise of you to do as you did with his chosen Sword.”

“Thunder from out of Mida’s skies brings naught of fear to her warriors,” I retorted, seeing the manner in which the light of the fey turned brassy as it dimmed, and also the movement of the trees in the sudden wind which sprang up and stiffened. “Clearly does a storm approach, one of those which arise from naught, drop the tears of Mida quickly, then depart as rapidly as they came. Have you never seen a storm of that sort?”

“I have seen many storms in these parts,” said Chaldrin, looking about himself as the skies darkened as though the hand of Mida covered her light, and great, heavy drops of rain began to fall. “Never, however, have I seen one as brief and gentle as that which you describe. We must find shelter, and that at once.”

My lips parted to express my thoughts upon the foolishness of males who feared the wetness which fell from Mida’s skies, when my words were overcome by a number of happenings at once. Lightning flared through the skies with such strength that my eyes saw its image even after it had faded, and with it came a sound of thunder which deafened all who heard it. Harder and harder did the rain begin to fall, as though it meant to batter us into the ground, and then came another flash of lightning, screaming as it threw itself against a tree not far distant. Fire flared and crackled where the burning stroke had touched the tree, and the kan beneath me began plunging wildly with fear amidst the din of further thunder.

“The caves!” shouted a male voice, one impossible to distinguish from the sounds all about us. “We must take shelter in the caves!”

All of the kand were plunging with fear, attempting to pull from the reins which held them and race away from storm-brought terror. The rain had thickened to such a downpour that it was difficult to see about oneself, and clearly the caves which we had seen were the sole place we would indeed find shelter. I gestured onward through the pelting rain in the hopes that I might be seen, and then did I urge my kan in the proper direction, which he took at once. In the midst of rain and wind and darkness were the others quickly lost, yet had I seen them in a flash of lightning, and knew that they rode in the direction I did.

The ride to the caves was long and difficult, for my kan quickly discovered it could not race at full tilt as it wished to. Trees loomed too often in our path, and it was necessary to take care till they thinned enough to allow us to hurry. The stony ground before the caves was slippery from wetness, the darkened openings shown in a flare of lightning-fury spaced far one from the other. It mattered not at all to me which my kan chose, for memory lived strong within me of the last time I had experienced such a storm, toward the end of my time in Ranistard. The storm had come during the lashing decreed for me by Galiose, he who was High Seat of Ranistard, and each time lightning cracked and thunder spoke I was again able to feel the lash descending, cutting my flesh and bringing untold agony. My kan slowed before an opening large enough to admit him, giving me opportunity to slide from his back before he plunged within, leaving me to stumble shuddering in his wake. The cave might well have been the lair of some child of the wild, yet upon the moment I cared no more than my kan. The need I felt to be away from the storm transcended every care and consideration, even that which might well become a life threat. I entered the cave and moved from the entrance nearly as far as my kan, we both bringing trails and pools and drippings of water with us, and then I crouched down with my arms about me, attempting to quiet the shudderings which continued to bring tremors to my body. The thunder raved on in seeming anger that it had been escaped, and I know not how many reckid passed before it came to me that there was light in the cave in which I crouched, the light of a torch. I raised my head in lack of understanding, looking belatedly about, and there, in the entrance to a farther cave with faint light streaming out behind, stood the male S’Heernoh.

“I—found these torches upon the ground when I first arrived and struck a light,” said he, his voice odd as he looked upon me. “Likely they were left by those who took shelter here at some earlier time. I arrived enough before you so that I have also been able to light a small fire in the second cavern. ”

He stood unmoving as he spoke, his face expressionless, and well did I recall the manner in which he had addressed me earlier in the fey. Though I had no wish at all to go again into the storm without, I had even less desire to remain with one who had so little relish for my presence. I arose from my crouch and turned again toward the opening through which I had so recently come, yet the words of the male came again before I had gone more than two or three paces.

“Wait!” he called. “I cannot fault you for wishing naught of my company after the words I spoke earlier, however you cannot mean to brave the storm again. The next nearest caves are no short distance, and we need not even share the same cavern. I have already dried myself somewhat by the fire, and it would please me to see you do the same.”

“I would not force another from a fire in this damp, even though that other be male,” said I, seeing the dark light up beyond the cave opening in continued, mindless fury. “The next cave cannot be so far.”

“And yet it is,” said he, his voice smoothening to coaxing as his step sounded nearer upon the stone of the floor. “I saw its distance when I saw those men in black, the Sigurri warriors, enter it just before I entered here. And there is sufficient wood for a second fire which I will build here, in this cavern, for myself. Once I have taken the wood, I will not enter that cavern again to disturb you.”

I turned my head to look at the male, and though he smiled, I continued to feel a good deal of reluctance to remain, and yet to leave that place only to go to the place chosen by the Sigurri males would be idle. In truth I had the wish for the company of none of those I rode with, and perhaps the farther cavern would truly be the best of it. My nod of acceptance had more than a bit of reluctance within it, yet the smile of the male warmed regardless.

“I shall fetch the wood and my kan at once,” said S’Heernoh, his hand lifting as though he would touch my shoulder, then withdrawing as he turned from me and hurried toward the other opening. I followed more slowly, considering taking my kan farther within, yet did the beast back from me somewhat as I approached, as though in fear that I meant to return it to the insanity of the storm. Its eyes seemed prepared to roll wildly with the fear it felt, therefore did I leave it be and enter the next cavern without it.

The second cavern was a mate to the first, rounded rather than squared and large enough to have held our entire traveling set within it. The single torch set within the rock of the wall was like that in the outer cavern, though aided by the presence of a fire near to the back wall. S’Heernoh had taken a double armload of wood from a pile which was much of a surprise by cause of its size, and the amusement had returned to his smile as he moved toward his kan.

“Those who were here before us must surely have anticipated a lengthy stay,” said he, taking up the rein of his kan. “I have left cloths for you, with which you may take a deal of the wetness which covers you. I have others which I shall use in the outer cavern, and shall not disturb you.”

His nod was friendly in a way I did not understand. Much did I doubt that there would ever be true friendliness between the male and myself, yet did I follow him to the opening through which he had gone, and looked on as he crouched beneath the torch.

“Should you require further wood,” said I when his eyes were upon me, “you may enter and take it as you please. The cave, and the wood as well, were first yours. There would be little honor for this warrior in seeing you do without.”

“Lady, you are most gracious,” said he, remaining crouched where he had been, the smile warming the dark of his eyes. “Few females will consider a man so, preferring that he consider them to the exclusion of all things including himself. You do me honor by sharing my shelter.”

Well did I know what honor my presence was for him, therefore did I turn away from the words which were not meant to be heeded and return to the fire which awaited me. As the male had said, there were cloths before the fire, therefore did I first remove my swordbelt and draw the sword given me by Mida, then took up one of the cloths. So penetrating the rain had been, that the blade of my sword was nearly as wet as that of my dagger. First did I see my sword wiped, and then my dagger and life sign, and only then did I begin upon my own self. A warrior will ever see first to her weapons, else is she no warrior; the dark red crumbling will take any weapon not properly cared for, and that most likely when it is raised against an enemy. I crouched before the fire, the wet breech stripped from me, the stone rough yet warm beneath my feet, drying my body and hair and regretting that I had no oil to see more completely to my sword. Once the storm was gone, I would find the oil I required.

When once I had wiped the wetness from me I sat cross-legged before the fire, staring within its depths and thinking no thought beyond how lovely the colors of that fire were. Many plans would need to be made in the feyd to come, yet upon that moment was there the peace of no thought at all, a peace I was not often fortunate enough to find. I sat so for a number of reckid, and then did I hear the sound of a footfall at the opening to the other cavern. Likely had S’Heernoh found that the wood he had taken was insufficient for his needs, and he had come to fetch away more. I rose to my feet with a sigh and moved toward the pile of wood, thinking to aid him and thereby rid myself of the presence of another more quickly, yet when I glanced toward the opening I discovered the error I had made. The male who stood there was not S’Heernoh, nor was he seeking wood. The male who stood there was Mehrayn.

He who was called Sigurr’s Sword stood astare in the opening, his thumbs in his swordbelt, his red hair darkened with wet, his broad face surrounding the deep anger gleaming from the green of his eyes. So large and well-muscled was he, so tall did he stand, that a thing deep within me chilled to see him so. He stood no more than a moment staring upon me in silence, and then did he come forward, away from the opening and toward me. Again did the chill twist about inside me, for my sword lay a number of paces behind me, beside the fire. No time at all was there to turn and make for it, scarcely was there time to take my dagger from its leg bands and bring it up, the front of my hand against the leather of my life sign where it was wound about the hilt just below the guard. I stood in readiness as the anger in the eyes of the male increased, his glance going to the blade in my hand, his pace slackened not at all as he came toward me, heedless of my weapon. I slashed the blade toward him, meaning to catch him below the ribs and give him what my sword had given Chaldrin, yet did my blade meet naught save air, for the male twisted about with unexpected speed to avoid the stroke. A heartbeat and half breath later my arm and hand were in his grip, the arm held tight, Mehrayn’s back to me, the hand turned in some manner so that I was unable to struggle or free myself. One turn and the dagger was gone from lifeless fingers, one pull and I followed the weapon quickly to the rock of the floor. No sound save a pair or two of scuffling footsteps had been made in the dimness of torch and firelight, yet I lay upon the stone unable to move, unable to keep the dripping, red-haired, kneeling figure from capturing my left wrist as well and adding it to the right. With both wrists together was the irresistible pressure gone and I able to struggle again, against what fate I knew not, yet did I know I wished naught of it.

“You have now raised that weapon to me twice,” said Mehrayn, looking down upon me where I lay, his voice overly soft with the anger he felt. “In the first instance you received no punishment, yet this instance shall not be the same. Should you ever attempt such a thing again, you had best see that I am quickly slain; should I continue among the living, your regret will be very deep.”

My regret was already deep for I had not expected to see the foolish male again, nor had I thought he would be able to take my dagger with such ease. The hardness of the rock pressed into my back as I tried uselessly to free my wrists, faint sounds of storm-fury drifting through from the other cavern again touching and bringing forth memories of pain. The male meant to revenge himself upon me for the attack I had attempted—and likely the humiliation he had been given as well—and there was naught I might do to prevent it.

“For what reason do I hear no words from you?” Mehrayn demanded after a brief moment of silence, his anger continuing as it had been. “Are you no longer the chosen of all the gods there are, far above the doings and wishes of mere males? Will you not tell me of the terrible fate awaiting me should I dare to touch you in punishment? Speak to me, woman and warn me away as you have ever done!”

I moved my wrists in discomfort against his strengthening grip, making no attempt to meet the blaze in his eyes, or to speak the words he demanded. Well had I learned that Mida would not shield me from the pain given by males, therefore would all words be useless. Males are males, after all, and words may do naught against their intentions.

“Perhaps she merely awaits the harm you mean to bring her,” said the voice of S’Heernoh. Mehrayn’s head snapped up to send his anger toward the opening to the next cavern, a place I was unable to see from where I lay. “The humiliation she caused you justifies such a doing does it not, Prince? There are none about who would condemn you for seeking revenge, and none about capable of halting you. For what reason do you hesitate?”

“I do not hesitate,” growled Mehrayn, his eyes continuing angrily upon the male I was unable to see, his broad hands still clamped about my wrists. “There is no need for anyone to halt me, for I have no intentions of offering this wench harm. It is words I will have from her, and those right quickly.”

The anger-filled gaze returned once more to me, but I knew not what words he awaited, for I had none which he would heed.

“Do you seek to have her beg to be released?” came the voice of S’Heernoh again, puzzlement clear in the tone of it. “She may well hesitate to do such a thing, Prince, yet am I able to assure you that freedom would bring her deep gratitude, so deep that she will surely recall the doing in the most favorable of lights. Her gratitude will . . .”

“Gratitude!” interrupted Mehrayn with a snort of derision, halting the flow of smoothly spoken words from the other male. “This female is incapable of true gratitude, incapable of accepting a freely given gesture, incapable of believing that gesture performed without hidden motivations: And I do not await a begging of any sort from her. I know well enough she would sooner give up her life.”

His gaze continued to flame down toward me, his anger unabating, and when I again attempted to struggle free from his grip, he moved from his crouch to kneel above me, his knees straddling my body.

“Do you await words of apology, then?” asked S’Heernoh, his voice somewhat fainter than it had been. “The wench must truly be in discomfort to be held so, therefore perhaps you would consider . . . . ”

“I will consider naught save continuing her discomfort!” snapped Mehrayn. “My own discomfort has continued long enough and strongly enough, yet what consideration have I had from her? The words I await are ones of explanation, ones I shall have even should it be necessary to hold her here as I now do till Sigurr tires of our world and sends the flames of ending to destroy it! The longer I think upon the matter the higher my anger grows, therefore had her words best come quickly! For what reason do you insist so upon facing me, wench? For what reason does the need burn so within you?”

His anger approached nearer as he leaned down farther toward me, yet the greater confusion he also brought was a distraction from that anger. I moved my wrists against the strength of his grip, feeling the dampness of his flesh where it touched my body, unable to free my hair where most of it lay crushed beneath me.

“I have already spoken of what reasons I have which cause my wish to face the male Mehrayn,” I replied, sending my own gaze up toward him. “At this moment, the male does naught save add to them.”

“Indeed?” said Mehrayn, his brows rising in mock questioning. “You seek to face me now in insult over what was done to you by me, for now you have learned that I am no stranger to the hilt of a sword? You attempt to face me as you faced Chaldrin when he allowed you the challenge, yet do I have a question concerning that bout: in what manner did you learn of Chaldrin’s prowess? Whose valued opinion assured you of his ability to face you?”

“Why, all those within the Caverns were aware of Chaldrin’s ability,” I replied, the words coming slowly from the confusion which remained with me. “I continued to demand the challenge, and at last he agreed to face me.”

“You continued to demand the challenge,” said Mehrayn, the words putting a glint in the green of his gaze. “Am I mistaken in believing that you first gave him challenge upon the moment he initially refused to grant you freedom? How then did you know of his prowess? And for what reason would you accept the opinion of mere ‘males,’ those whose own abilities are so often, in your own words, clumsy and inept? What then of the dishonor in facing one whose abilities are less than yours?”

“A warrior is free to challenge any who attempt her capture!” I snapped, struggling yet further against the strength which held me. “All males show great bravery when Jalav is bound, less when they must face her with weapon in fist!”

“A warrior is free to do many things, it seems,” said Mehrayn, deliberately taking no note of my struggles. “Most especially is a warrior free to begrudge and envy the skill of others, as petulantly as any wench of the cities. Why do you fail to shrill in anger and stamp your foot as well as offer challenge, child warrior? Perhaps then a man would allow his patience to fly, and immediately grant you your challenge.”

“You would accuse a warrior of envying the skill of a male?” I said in derision, scarcely able to credit the foolishness he spoke. “For what reason would one envy another for possessing less than she? You speak as do all males, without reason and without sense, and I have long since grown weary of it. Release me immediately!”

“If there is no sense in what I speak,” said Mehrayn, the anger growing yet again, “for what reason did you not insist upon challenge before you were told of how great a skill I am the possessor of? For what reason was it necessary that you first be told you could not best me before highly incensed insult touched you? For what reason do you do all in your power to force me to face you, rather than merely drawing your weapon and having at me? Is it for the reason that merely slaying me would not allow you to boast that you had bested me? Is it for the very possible reason that the smallness of your soul will not allow another to go unmolested who might well be your superior? Must all those about you bow to your mighty blade or be slain? What if I were to best you instead? What if you were to find defeat rather than victory? What then, wench?”

His voice had risen to deafening shouts, and so great was his anger that the grip he held me in had become true pain. My thoughts whirled in agitation over the words he spoke, for I found myself unable to bear the truth I had been forced to see. Perhaps at first my anger toward him and his doing in the caverns had caused me to be incensed over the thought that he might possess the skill to best me with swords, yet then had come the unacknowledged fancy that all pain and striving would at last come to an end were he able to bury a blade in me. How greatly I longed for such an end I had not known myself, for I had pursued and provoked the male at every opportunity, speaking of insult only so that I need not acknowledge the truth even in my own heart. To attain the blessed peace of the eternal darkness I would have gladly forsaken all those who looked to me for leadership and succor, and so deeply shamed did I feel that I closed my eyes and turned my face from the male who glared furiously upon me. To forsake those who had placed their trust in one is unforgivable, no matter the burdens one carries, no matter the weight and pain of them. So great a coward had Jalav become that naught meant more to her than her own comfort and wishes, and in whatever manner the male took his revenge, the coward Jalav had earned the pain in full measure.

A moment of silence passed as my mind thrashed about in the confines of self-made shame, and then did the grip loosen upon my wrists as Mehrayn shifted about.

“I hear no further protests of innocence, wench,” said he, no longer in a shout though still with anger. “However, I also hear naught in answer to my question. Have you any concept of the loss I would face if I were to slay you?”

“The loss of this one would be minimal at best,” I replied in a whisper, hearing the bitterness in his voice yet understanding naught of it. “I have, however, certain duties which seemed to have slipped from my thoughts, therefore must I withdraw my challenge to you. She who is Jalav is not free to lightly face one who might well best her.”

Again came the silence surrounding the dark of closed lids in which I lay, and again did Mehrayn move about upon his knees. The feel of the stone against them could not have been one of comfort, yet he continued to hold me in place as he had. Then, as though the words fought their way through clouds of confusion, he spoke.

“Sooner would I have thought to hear begging than that which you have just voiced, wench,” said he, his anger momentarily forgotten beneath the weight of puzzlement. “You withdraw the challenge? Just so easily? You will no longer seek to face me?”

“Blindness no longer covers me, and my duty stands clear again in my sight,” said I with a sigh, looking upon him once more. “Should the male Mehrayn think upon the matter and find that his anger demands challenge after all, Jalav will meet him after the strangers have come and been seen to. She will then be free to do as she wishes.”

“Yet till then the matter of challenge must be forgotten,” said Mehrayn in a mutter filled with growing pleasure. “I had not thought to find myself joyed at the prospect of the arrival of those who mean us ill, yet now—” His muttering ended as his gaze returned to me, and a smile turned his lips. “Should the choice be left to me, wench, there shall never be challenge between us, for I shall never face you. I am endlessly pleased that matters between us may now return to that which they were.”

With such words did his head then lower toward mine, his intention clearly to have our lips touch, yet such a thing could not be allowed. I had seen naught to suggest he no longer meant defiance of the gods, and I would continue forever to refuse to be party to such mindlessness. I turned my head quickly so that his lips found my ear rather than that which they had sought, and his head rose again in immediate annoyance.

“Perhaps this time it is I who has forgotten,” said he dryly, “yet does it seem that matters between us were other than this. I cannot recall having often sought your ear to kiss. It is your lips I wish, wench, and I wish them now.”

Again his head lowered toward me, and again I turned my face from him. “Your wishes are of no concern to me, male,” said I to the even greater annoyance in his eyes. “I have said there is naught between us, and have also attempted to prove that. Even a male should have found the doings sufficiently clear for full understanding, therefore may you now release me.”

“May I indeed,” said he, gazing down upon me with a lowering look which showed how completely his previous pleasure had departed. “And for what reason is there now naught between us, when till now there was more than I had ever known was possible?”

“I find I have tired of you,” said I, speaking the lie with discomfort as I moved my wrists in his continuing grip. “A war leader is accustomed to using many males, and the use of no more than one grows quickly tiring. I shall never again find interest in you; therefore may you give over all thoughts of defying the gods. The gesture would be an empty one, even were it possible to find survival and victory.”

Again he was silent seeming more taken aback than angered, then Mehrayn slowly began nodding his head.

“I see,” said he, glancing briefly at S’Heernoh, whose sigh had returned his presence to our awareness. “You no longer find interest in me, therefore need I no longer consider defying the gods. It strikes me that you are correct, and I shall indeed no longer consider such a thing, however—”

The pleasure that his words brought was short-lived, for he quickly slid one arm beneath me, turned me to my belly upon the stone, then brought my arms down and crossed my wrists at my back.

“I, myself, have not yet tired of you,” he continued, fumbling about briefly with one hand before the feel of a strip of leather was brought to my wrists. “As you no longer find me of interest, it will be necessary that I hold you in capture till I have had my fill of you. That will easily take the balance of this fey and all of the darkness to follow.”

The accursed male chuckled as he tightened the leather about my wrists, then backed upon his knees till he was able to do the same with a second strip about my ankles, paying no mind to the manner in which I growled and struggled in fury. The stone of the floor put grit on my breasts and belly and all down the front of me, the sole accomplishment of my struggles; the leather refused to stretch free to loose me from the male.

“I shall return momentarily to begin the enjoyment of my captive,” said Mehrayn, stroking my thigh before rising to his feet. “I desire greater comfort than this cavern now provides, and my kin has not yet been seen to.”

With little concern did he then leave the cavern, crossing before S’Heernoh, who stood perhaps a pace from the opening. The gray-haired male was clearly amused at Mehrayn’s doing, yet when he saw my eyes upon him he attempted to swallow his amusement.

“The thongs have not been tightened too far upon you, have they, war leader?” he asked, some small indication of true concern evident in his tone. “Should you be in pain, I feel certain that the Prince will immediately loosen them.”

“It would please me to loosen certain parts of the Prince!” I snarled low, furious that the male would dare to attempt to make me his captive. “My dagger lies here beside me, S’Heernoh. Take it up quickly and free me.”

“Alas, war leader, I may do no such thing,” the Mida-forsaken male replied with a return of amusement, badly hidden beneath a false look of sorrow. “As you have so often pointed out, one who fails to bear weapons would be a fool to stand in the path of one of skill. I have, in my time, held a hilt in my fist, yet was I far from the best among my people. As I am unable to challenge the prince for his captive, that captive must remain his. It is my fondest hope that that captivity will not prove to be too-tiring.”

His bow took his smirk briefly from my sight, and then did he turn and depart through the opening. The snarl in my throat was well high wordless, yet was Mida surely able to make out in it my demand for her wrath to fall upon the heads of all males alike. Had Mehrayn attempted to give me pain in vengeance for that which I had done to him I would not have made an effort to deny him, yet I could not bear the thought of spending another darkness in his capture. Once before had he held me briefly in capture, and no warrior in even partial possession of her wits and reason would wish for another darkness like it. The male had been impossible, as totally beyond reasoning with as all males, and memory of that time set me to squirming about upon the stone in an effort to reach the dagger which lay near where I lay. It had become desperately necessary that I free myself, and that as quickly as possible.

My flesh stung from the scrape of stone upon it in many places, yet had the passage of but a few reckid seen me able to turn to my side, then to my back, then to my side again with the hilt of my dagger held precariously in my fingers. It would not have been difficult to tighten my hold, however such tightening would not have put the sharpened edge of the weapon to the leather which bound me. I was able to touch the leather with the blade, or I was able to hold the dagger firmly; the curse of the gods denied both things at once. The sweat stood out upon my body as I struggled to approach the leather without dropping the weapon altogether, the dimness of the cavern having grown more oppressive than soothing, the sound of the continuing storm easily heard in the silence all about, and then the blade fell upon the leather while my fingertips retained their hold upon the hilt. A breath of heartfelt relief escaped my throat with the attainment of success—and then that success was snatched firmly from my grip.

“Your dexterity is truly admirable, wench,” said Mehrayn, stepping over me to halt where I might see him with my dagger in his hands. Also did he hold his cloth-covered lenga fur, rolled and tucked beneath one arm, the smile he showed one of true amusement. “Had I not returned when I did, my captive might well have been lost due to that dexterity, yet does the effort remain admirable. A pity it was fated to be wasted. ”

I ground my teeth and struggled against the leather at sound of his chuckle, yet were my doings ignored as the male had already turned from me to walk closer to the fire S’Heernoh had built. My dagger was dropped with my swordbelt, the rolled fur was opened and spread upon the stone of the floor, and then did Mehrayn open his own swordbelt and remove his weapons. Once they had been carefully placed with mine, the male turned toward me again.

“It will be pleasant having a captive for this darkness,” said he, coming to where he had earlier stood. “Though a man is relieved of the necessity of adhering strictly to his devotions when he travels from our city, his body has nevertheless grown accustomed to those devotions and voices serious complaint when it is disallowed its usual performance. We must cause you to feel great desire for me, wench, else shall I likely bring you harm.”

“I have no wish to feel desire for you!” I spat as he went to one knee, put his arms beneath me, then lifted me from the stone. “The sole desire I have is for solitude, the solitude which was mine before your arrival!”

“Wench, it is unheard of to be captive in solitude,” said he, his tone gently admonishing as he rose to his feet. “One must be reasonable in these matters even though one is female. Let us have no further foolishness now, for there is much undone left before us.”

The ridiculing grin the male wore set me to struggling once again, yet the strength of his arms would have easily held me even had the leather been absent. With no effort was I taken to the covered lenga fur, set down upon it, then left as Mehrayn went to the cloths I had dried myself upon. After removing his black body cloth he set to drying himself, and once a good deal of the wetness had been taken from his body and hair, he returned with the cloth to the fur where I lay.

“I dislike a captive with stone dust covering her,” said he, putting himself upon the fur beside me. “We shall first see to the removal of the dust, and then we may continue on to those things which are required of a captive.”

Had it been possible to run from him I would certainly have done so, at great speed and with no thought given to dignity. He brought the cloth first to my breasts, the dampness of it taking the grit from my flesh slowly and carefully, his eyes all the while looking down into mine, his nearness and the touch of his hand nearly setting me to moaning. To allow the male to remain beside me would be to encourage his thoughts of defiance to rise again, yet how was I to see his life preserved when he did me so? Beneath me my hands were fists as I twisted about, my breathing grew more rapid despite my efforts to calm myself, and then did the male move the cloth to my middle and bend over the breast he had finished with. His kiss was fire to my flesh, so painful that I voiced a sound of desperate agony, so deeply pleasurable that I writhed with the need to feel the same all over me.

“Mehrayn, release me!” I begged, throwing my head about as his lips continued to touch me. “I cannot bear being done so, and you must release me!”

“Jalav, I have only just barely begun,” said he, his voice a murmur as his tongue also tasted of me, mild reproof again to be heard. “As you have so little interest in me, it will be quite some time before your desire is strong enough for you to be used. I would not wish to bring you harm.”

“Mida, take him from me!” I screamed as the cloth moved over my belly to my thighs, his lips and tongue continuing as they had been doing. My eyes squeezed shut and I writhed in earnest, my prayer to Mida as unfulfilled as it was unacknowledged. My desire for Mehrayn was so great that my body seemed unable to contain it, so fierce that I would have slain without stop for his use, so consuming that the mere thought of him made me his without question. It had been necessary to deny him so that his survival would be assured; that necessity remained, yet was it no longer possible to see to. The male had taken me in capture, a capture that ended all necessity save one.

“I am endlessly pleased that your Mida chooses to allow your call to go unheeded,” whispered Mehrayn, the cloth no longer in the hands that touched me. “You have been given to me by the gods for my pleasure, wench, a pleasure which is mine from no more than the sight of you. To also be allowed the touch of you, and the taste of you, and the use of you—A man would be a fool to believe life able to hold and bring more. I had thought to keep myself back from you for a time, as punishment for your misdeeds, yet such a punishment would be more mine than yours. I cannot keep myself from you, nor shall I attempt to do so.”

His lips came to me then, fiercely demanding, his hands touched me everywhere, adding to the flames which consumed me, and then was he gone, moving quickly to the leather which held my ankles. One tug and the knot was opened, one pull and the leather was gone, and then was he between my thighs, his desire quivering as it eagerly sought mine. Mida! So great was my need that I felt naught from the fingers of metal which held to my thighs, no more than the awareness of his manhood entering me coming to my flesh. He plunged deep with a grunt then gathered me to him, and as his lips took mine my thoughts were his as well.

I know not how long a time Mehrayn spent in his use of me, yet was the time clearly more use than sharing. The determination to punish me was evident in his eyes from the time the first of his need was seen to, yet his intentions mattered not. Use or sharing, it was sufficient that I had him deep within me, filling that emptiness and that other which was unreachable by those who were not he. When final release took him I lay unmoving at last, my eyes closed to allow me to savor the last of his presence. I awaited his withdrawal, yet his hands came to my back instead, and his lips to my face.

“I sense no resentment within you, my lovely hadat,” said he, touching his lips to the closed lids over my eyes. “It was my intention again to give you punishment, and again I have failed. ”

“Mehrayn has not failed,” said I, making no attempt to return sight to myself. “Jalav has been well and truly and thoroughly punished. She will not again attempt that which brought the punishment.”

A silence came, during which time my throat was given the presence of his lips, and then Mehrayn sighed.

“I had not known that the thought of my vow would disturb you so,” said he, a great weariness to be heard in his voice. “When a man desires a woman as greatly as I desire you, there is naught he would not face to win her. Such battle becomes ludicrous, however, when the fact of it causes his beloved to turn from him. I take it you would have me withdraw the vow.”

“You would do so?” I asked in vast surprise, at last finding the need to look upon him. “You would truly withdraw the vow?”

“I have been given little choice,” said he, faint annoyance to be seen in the sober green depths of his eyes. “Were I to keep to the vow, the wench I desire would be immediately gone from me, withdrawing herself in utter despair. As keeping to the vow would mean immediate defeat, how may I continue? It had not occurred to me that the gods would do battle in such a manner.”

“They do battle in whatever manner most pleases them,” said I, disturbed over the anger which filled him at thought of his defeat. “Give thanks that they did battle in any manner, for they do not always have it so. Their chosen may not be halted in the tasks she sees to for them.”

“Had their chosen been old and ugly and infirm, the difficulty would not have arisen,” said he, a sourness to him as he looked down upon me. “I dislike this state of affairs more than I care to speak of, yet shall I allow it to pass by without complaint under one condition: as I am to give up my vow, I will have a thing in its place.”

“What thing?” I asked, abruptly filled with confusion and disbelief. The male would bargain with the gods?

“As I am not to be allowed full and complete possession of the woman I desire, I must be allowed her presence and use at any time I wish it,” said he, his voice and eyes as implacably upon me as though I spoke for the gods. “I shall not allow my wishes to interfere with the tasks which have been given her, yet must those wishes at all other times be obeyed. Have I made myself clear?”

“Indeed,” said I, all at once aware of a great discomfort. “You would have the chosen of the gods in slavery. Has she given you such deep, unforgivable humiliation then?”

“I would not have her in slavery,” said he, a softening coming to his grimness as he stroked my hair. “It will not be as a slave that I take and use her, but as a promise of more to come when once her tasks are seen to. In no other manner will I find myself able to calm my desire for her.”

“And if the gods should choose not to accept your demand?” I asked, discomfort growing even higher. The male was truly impossible, and I knew not what to do.

“If my request is refused,” said he, leaning down toward me with determination, “then I shall have no choice save to continue to hold the wench in capture, keeping her from all those things the gods wish seen to. Should the doing mean my life, then so be it; my life is mine to do with as I please. I will not be swayed from the purpose I have chosen.”

I attempted to move in desperation beneath the male, yet the leather on my wrists and his continued presence upon me refused to allow it. Were I to deny his terms I would surely be sealing his fate, yet to accept them would be to place myself at his command. Mida! The male watched me closely, awaiting what words I would speak, yet words refused to come to me. My thoughts swirled about, first this way and then that, unable to find escape from the dilemma, finding instead only a small protest.

“I am scarcely the one to speak such a request to,” I faltered. “The decision is one for the gods to make, and I am not they.”

“And yet you speak for them in all other matters,” he returned without pause, a sharpness now entering the green of his eyes. “I feel certain that should you decide upon a course of action, they will not gainsay the decision.”

“Mehrayn, I cannot!” I hissed, desperately. “Should I refuse, they will take your life to return my freedom! And should I agree, then my life is no longer mine! You cannot demand such a decision of me!”

“Wench, I may do no other thing,” said he, with compassion—and determination. “Sooner than lose you I would see my own life lost, for my life would be naught without you beside me. I shall gladly lead my warriors and the Princes of the Blood into battle against the strangers, yet must my mind be clear for the thing else shall few of us survive. For the sake of those who follow me, then, this matter must be settled to my satisfaction. Should you give me what part of your life you may, you will not regret it.”

So deeply did he gaze into my eyes, that nearly did I agree to that which he asked. His presence within me had once again grown to strength, a thing he was not unaware of, and perhaps, had he not attempted to steal my vow in the manner of another before him, I might well have heeded the madness he brought and agreed. And yet, though the effort was not the same it seemed the same, and I could not again face the consequences of a stolen vow.

“The life of this warrior is not hers to keep or give away,” said I at last, feeling much the coward yet able to do no other thing. “No other than Mida may speak on the doings of Jalav, therefore the male Mehrayn must release her, and together they will ride against the strangers as the gods have demanded. All is as the gods demand, Mehrayn, and we are neither of us able to alter that. Bitterness is useless, for we each of us have our duty.”

“Duty,” he growled, the fury of frustrated anger filling his eyes. “is there no such thing as duty to oneself? Must all duty be to others? The word once meant much to me, and still does it mean much, yet in an entirely different manner.”

Still held by anger he withdrew from me, for he could not deny the words I spoke no matter that he would have had it otherwise. With his knees to either side of me his hands came to my waist, and then was I face down upon the pelt, my bound wrists where he might reach the leather upon them. I awaited the untying of the leather, yet his hand came instead to stroke my bottom.

“Never, in all the kalod of my life, have I ever felt such desire for a woman,” said he, the words a mutter meant for ears other than mine. “To show a man what might be his and then deny it him when he has grown to desire it above all else is the act of a fool, for men may not be so easily denied. The gods, I know, are far from fools, therefore shall I make a final attempt and address them directly. Sigurr, hear my words! Though I address them to the goddess Mida, I ask your aid as well! Lady, the wench here before me is Jalav, one of yours, therefore must I ask your leave for that which I seek. I would possess the wench as far as I might, yet does she refuse to hear me for she rides as your chosen. My possession of her will not take her from you, indeed it will aid you, for I will guard her life with my own, a thing which will allow her to continue in your service. Should it be your will that I be allowed her possession you must give her a sign, for the stubborn she-lenga will not heed the words spoken by a ‘male.’ She rides now to danger where her life might well be lost before she is able to oppose the coming strangers. Grant her to me, goddess, and I will spend my own life before allowing hers to be lost!”

The words of the male rang in the dimness of the cavern air, an earnest plea spoken with sureness yet filled with desperation. I closed my eyes against the pain so clear in the voice of Mehrayn, a pain destined to grow larger and larger still. Jalav was not meant to be the possession of a male, and naught of the sign Mehrayn wished would be forthcoming.

“Sigurr!” said Mehrayn of a sudden with a low gasp, a tremor in the tone which had been so steady a moment earlier. “I had not expected—So quickly! Great Sigurr—Lady Mida! My thanks, great ones, my thanks! Jalav! Do you see?”

The joy which took Mehrayn brought a chill to me for no reason I could easily discern—till my eyes opened to see what he saw. I raised my head from the lenga pelt and there, beside the wall where our weapons lay, was a glow so pure and golden-bright that it might have been sent by no other than Mida. That the glow emanated from my life sign was undeniable, yet did sudden horror force me to attempt a denial.

“Mida, no!” I cried, struggling even more strongly against the leather which bound me. “Do not give me to this male! I am your chosen, and his presence is unnecessary! He is no more than a male, as lacking in reason as are they all, as blind, and foolish and stubborn! Do not give me to another of his kind!”

My prayer was truly heartfelt, for to have a male was most certainly not the equal of being given to one, yet for reasons beyond my understanding was Mehrayn heeded and I not. No sooner did my words cease than the glow did the same, rejecting my plea as Mehrayn’s had not been. Mida had spoken, and I was again to be the possession of a male!

“A fine, understanding goddess, your lady Mida,” said Mehrayn from behind me, deep satisfaction and happiness alive in his voice. “To know which boon the proper one to grant is surely the mark of true wisdom.”

Wisdom! I lowered my face to the cloth of the lenga pelt, as deeply sunk in misery as Mehrayn was in happiness. At other times had I been given by Mida to males, once to breed hatred within me for those selfsame males. Thinking upon it I found I had come to believe that each time I was held in capture it was by Mida’s intent, her purpose not always clear yet surely always served. What I was to be given this time I knew not, yet surely was punishment a possibility. Were it known to Mida that I desired Mehrayn, well might she have granted me to him so that his life would indeed be forfeit in exchange for mine. That I would not allow such a thing to occur should also have been known to her, and perhaps it was. Perhaps that very thing was the reason Mehrayn had been granted his request—Mehrayn of all males! It had been my deepest wish to have him return to his Sigurri where he might not be so easily seen by the gods, and now it would never come to be. Sooner would I have seen myself given again to Chaldrin!

“So, my girl, your presence and use are now mine to direct as I will,” said Mehrayn, the satisfaction still strongly with him, his hands going at last to the leather on my wrists. “It seems a man need only state his needs, and the gods will see to them.”

“It is scarcely the gods who have been set to tending your needs,” said I in a mutter, bringing my arms before me as quickly as they were freed. My wrists ached and, to a lesser extent, my arms as well, and no thought seemed so pleasing as that of departing the cavern immediately. Even facing the storm without was preferable to being commanded to the service of a male.

“You seem less than pleased that my request has been granted,” said Mehrayn, moving my hair to my left shoulder so that he might touch my back and arm without impediment. “Do you envision the slavery you spoke of earlier, that you fail to share my joy?”

“A warrior must be entirely free, else is she no other thing than slave in truth,” said I, keeping my sight to the marks of the leather remaining upon my wrists. “The word given you was not mine, therefore may your joy be premature. I have ever been free to escape capture when I might.”

The silence which this time descended was very short in duration, and then was I taken by the arms and thrown to my back. I continued to lie between Mehrayn’s thighs, and the anger his light eyes blazed down at me was no small thing.

“You consider willful disobedience of the gods?” he demanded in a roar, bending somewhat toward me, his outrage most evident. “Accidental or necessary disobedience is not the same, for they will not overlook this as they have other disobediences of yours! Do you seek to be ended? Do you seek to be horribly punished?”

“The male Mehrayn may defy the gods, and the war leader Jalav may not?” I asked, again made uneasily aware of how large the male was. He had put his hands to either side of me upon the pelt, and the thews stood out stonelike in his arms.

“The male Mehrayn does not ride for the gods,” said he, his words more growl than voice, the glitter in his eyes akin to the metal of a sword. “He does not pass his feyd ever taking their notice, nor needing their constant good will to assist in survival! He does not now ride toward the waiting hands of enemies, to make himself their leader whether they will it or no! There are those who await you to lead them into battle, others who await an end to captivity; what would become of them should your lady Mida take insult at your doings and turn from you?”

The demanding question, once spoken, hung between us, unanswerable in the manner I most wished to reply in. My honor forbade that I abandon those who looked to me for leadership and freedom, and one may not turn one’s back upon honor.

“Indeed the male Mehrayn may and the war leader Jalav may not,” said Mehrayn, his anger somewhat cooled by my silence. “Freedom is a true blessing from the gods, wench, yet are there those of us who have little of it, though no chain or binding touches us. We are bound by far stronger ties, those of the needs of the ones who follow us, and may not escape the capture of our service. Were we meant to effect such an escape, we would not have been bound so to begin with.”

I turned from the sober gaze of the male to lie upon my right side, my hair beneath my cheek and arm, continued silence the sole reply I was able to make. The truth he had spoken could not be denied, nor was it possible to regret the thing; I had sought the glory in being war leader to Midanna, and would not put away the honor even if such a thing were possible. Had I not become the chosen of the gods I would have regretted naught of my life, yet regret at the doings of the gods is idle. Far better to accept the burden and continue on, looking toward the fey the burden would be no more.

“And so the war leader Jalav shall remain in the possession of the male Mehrayn,” said Mehrayn, putting himself upon the lenga pelt behind me, the deep intensity gone from his voice, yet not so the hard determination. “She will obey his wishes and come to him at any time he desires her, and will no longer dwell upon the foolishness of escape and disobedience. Will she not?”

The agreement sought by Mehrayn continued to be difficult for me, yet there was naught I might do save nod my head in capitulation. As abhorrent as the state was to a warrior, I had been commanded to allow my captivity.

“Excellent,” said Mehrayn with pleasure-filled satisfaction, his great hand coming to gently stroke my arm. “Your reluctance stems from the manner in which you are bound to me, I know, therefore do I discount such reluctance and overlook it. You felt constrained to deny me of your own self due to your sense of duty, and this I understand as well. Turn and look at me, wench.”

I turned from my side to my back with a sigh, then flinched when I saw the manner in which the male looked upon me. Unfaltering was that look, hard as the rock which stood all about us.

“What I shall not overlook without comment is the manner in which you spoke of me to the goddess,” said he, gently brushing the tangled hair from my right arm, his eyes continuing to hold me where I lay. “Have you naught you wish to add to so complimentary a description, no other words of praise as fitting as those already spoken? You need not hesitate now any more than you did a few reckid earlier.”

“Words of praise?” I echoed, finding naught in my memory of that which I had said to Mida concerning Mehrayn. “Of what description do you speak? In what manner might I have spoken of you, that I fail to recall it?”

“Perhaps your failure to recall the doing is an attempt by your lady to protect you once again,” said he, smoothing his hand across my belly below my breasts. “The attempt cannot be a command for me, however, for my memory of the episode is as clear as possible. ‘You need not give me to this male, for his presence is unnecessary,’ you said. ‘He is no more than a male who is blind, foolish, stubborn and lacking in reason,’ you said. Perhaps you should have added how little pride I possess, how rarely I take insult over that which is disparagingly said of me, and how well it pleases me to be humiliated before the gods.”

An odd manner of pleasantness had formed upon his visage, yet was it entirely negated by the manner in which he continued to look upon me. His eyes would not have seemed improperly placed had they been given to a lenga whose kill was being carried off by a paslat, and indeed did I abruptly feel the paslat before him, for the words I had spoken in desperation and dismay had returned to me. His hand upon me was soft and undemanding, yet did its presence and his nearness cause me to truly regret the loss of my weapons.

“Mida is well acquainted with the true nature of males,” said I at last, attempting to soothe his upset. “Naught was said that she was not already aware of, therefore Mehrayn need not be overly disturbed. Mida possesses males of her own. ”

“Naught was said that she was not already aware of,” muttered Mehrayn, his eyes closing in a manner which seemed to indicate pain. “The goddess is already acquainted with—she possesses—Great Sigurr, give me the strength to keep my hands from curling about her throat and slowly closing! Give me the strength to keep from beating her as she has never before been beaten!”

“Should Jalav’s presence so disturb Mehrayn, she need not remain here,” said I, disliking the manner in which he spoke to his god. “It was not she who asked the possession of a male.”

I began to rise to sit up on the pelt, more than pleased at the prospect of departing the cavern—and that right quickly—yet was Mehrayn not of a mind to see it so. His right fist came immediately to tangle in my hair, and then was I once again put flat upon the pelt.

“You are correct, wench,” said he, holding me still against all attempts at struggling, his green eyes holding mine once more. “It was I who asked the possession of a wench, and I who was granted that possession. I believe it is more than time for the wench to be taught of the man in whose possession she is, so that should she find it needful to speak of him again, she will not be in doubt concerning his true nature. Pay close heed to the lesson, girl, else shall it be repeated till it is remembered.”

The words of the male caused me to wish even more fervently for my weapons, yet was I mistaken in believing that he meant me true harm. No more was done to me than that which had ever been done by him, a thing which, in truth, brought many another word and phrase to mind concerning the true nature of him. When, at last, I was able to do no other thing than speak them, he beat me.