The Will of the Gods

5 The difference between males—and a difference in capture

The new fey was fresh and clean and bright, a rebirth of Mida’s world after the abrupt storm. My kan moved joyfully through the rising warmth of the still-dripping forests, sated after having fed upon sweet, green grass and drunk from a small rill. We had all of us partaken of the water, yet had too great an amount of trail time been lost to allow the hunting—and, for the males, cooking—of provender. This I had insisted upon at the urgings of the sharp impatience within me, and none had sought to argue the point with much vigor.

When once the new light had come, I had departed the cave to discover that the others of our set had all found similar caves in which to shelter themselves. The Sigurri males had indeed been in the nearest cave as S’Heernoh had said, yet had he failed to note that Wedin and Dotil had shared the shelter. The two Summa seemed as well pleased with the darkness which had passed as did the males, yet did they greet S’Heernoh with a warmth and concern which seemed odd. Chaldrin and Ilvin also appeared from the mouth of a cave, the male as calm and placid as ever, the Hitta warrior silent and thoughtful. I spoke little past my wishes upon the point of departure, and soon took to the trail even before the others.

Despite the glory of the fey, the despondency I felt caused me to ride alone, joying in naught about me. Deep resentment burned within me that Mida would give me to yet another male, this time bound only by her command. Jalav had had thoughts which were no credit to the goddess, and Jalav had not feared the loss of her magical life sign as deeply as was meant that she should, therefore was Jalav given to a male to serve, to teach her regret and a proper humility. Had there been none other upon whom punishment might fall I might well have refused the command, yet there were far too many others who might bear the wrath brought about by my defiance. Even were I to find it within myself to challenge the authority of the one who was mother to all Midanna, how might I do so when defeat would be visited upon others in addition to myself? I tangled my hand in the mane of my kan against the smouldering embers which burned so within me, attempting to swallow and quiet my anger.

“You have as yet said no word to me this fey, wench,” came the voice of Mehrayn, his kan drawing close to mine as he rode up. “The sweet chirpings of the lellin in the treetops would be sweeter still were you to send me a smile and ask after my rest.”

The continuing satisfaction in the voice of the male was as a breath upon those smouldering embers within me, and truly did I find it necessary to make myself aware of the kan beneath me and the forest we rode through to keep the fire from leaping high. I tightened the hold of my legs upon the smooth sides of my mount, and we moved forward away from him who had been given possession of me.

“So, again you sulk after having been given a well earned punishment,” said Mehrayn, again urging his kan beside mine at the swifter pace I held to. “To speak in such a manner to one who holds you with greater strength is the act of a foolish child, an act which merits only punishment. Should you do such a thing again, you will be punished again.”

Memory of the beating Mehrayn had given me with the leather previously used to bind me did naught for my attempt to contain my anger. Deliberately I slowed my kan well behind his, allowing him to ride ahead alone. This second doing drove the satisfaction from him, nearly causing him to jerk upon his reins in order to return to my side.

“One who cannot stand in challenge also may not offer insult,” he pursued, annoyance now to be heard entangled in his words. “Am I so much less than you, that I must accept humiliation and shame unprotestingly, the while you do not? As we may not raise sword against one another, would it not be far more pleasant to forgo all insults and beatings and simply enjoy one another as we have in the past? I have pledged myself to your protection, and you have been pledged to my service; may we not merely take pleasure in the time we have, and leave thoughts of other things for when they may no longer be put away from us?”

So persuasive was the voice of the male, as though his words were sure to soothe away all of the disturbance and confusion and dilemma of the world. It had not yet come to him that he was likely meant to fall at the end of his time of pleasure, and that none might keep him from it with the possible exception of myself. So foolish were these males, and so filled with thoughts of naught save pleasure, that it was surely the doing of their god that they survived what battles they fought. As there were true matters of import to concern me, I continued to keep my eyes from him as we rode, and quickly reaped the reward of those who remain alert. A large tree loomed in our path, and as Mehrayn made to ride about it to the right, I chose the left and then angled even more sharply left, away from the line Mehrayn continued to hold. The distance between us widened considerably with each forward stride of my kan, and the male’s curses of frustration faded as I left him behind, he seeking a swift enough path through the growth and underbrush to cut my trail again. I had to consider what lay before me and what I might do for it, and the distraction of male prattle was best avoided whenever possible.

By the time Mida’s light reached its highest our set rode together again, silent till we came upon the small clearing. At sight of the clearing the males began a great clamor that we halt and take provender, and although Ilvin and the two Summa said naught, they too seemed in need of feeding. A number of lellin had been brought down by the two Sigurri who rode with Mehrayn, and although my warriors and I might well have fed upon the already featherless flesh as we rode, the males had need of a halt and a fire. To calm my impatience I recalled that our kand had need of rest as well, for they were not like the gandod warriors were able to ride from the beginning of a fey’s new light until its end. I quieted the clamor by allowing the halt, and once we had dismounted and preparations for the meal had begun, I took myself to the far side of the clearing alone. The need to face all nine of the enemy clans together was a great vexation to me, for to meet and speak with a single war leader was not to face nine and a Keeper as well. It would be necessary to ride alone into their midst, a doing far simpler than remaining unattacked till the words I meant to speak were spoken. How was I to . . .

“You seem preoccupied, wench,” came the voice of Chaldrin. “The Sword seemed well enough pleased at first light, yet now seems somewhat out of sorts. For what reason do you continue to provoke him?”

“I do not provoke him,” I answered. “The male is as much a fool as the gods, and I do no more than refrain from giving any of them words.”

“Wench, do not speak so!” Chaldrin protested with upset, his great hand coming to close upon my shoulder. “You may speak as you will of men, yet the gods may not be given such insult! Do you wish to be punished by them?”

“I am already punished by them,” I replied in a mutter, moving forward away from his hand. “Mida has commanded me to give service to Mehrayn, and now he will never return to his own. The fool has pledged his life in protection of mine, thinking himself well repaid by my service. He has no knowledge of how the gods take repayment for that which they give, yet shall he learn of it to his sorrow. To think of naught save the pleasure of the present is the doing of a child, and much do I wish it were possible to take the leather to the child Mehrayn as he did to me.”

“So he found it necessary to again give you a hiding,” said Chaldrin, the calm returned to his voice. “Were you rash enough to speak of the gods before him as you have before me, there was little else you might expect. And for what reason should he not pledge his life to defend yours? He would do so even had he not spoken the vow aloud, and having spoken it allows him his way with you. Had I been given the opportunity, I would have done the same.”

“Such is to be expected, for you are as much of a male as he,” said I, turning my head to cast a dark look at Chaldrin. “I would know, however, if you are Midanna enough to teach me this battle without weapons you have spoken so often of. I am weary of being prey to one with greater strength than I, one who beats me at any time desire comes to him. I am a war leader of Midanna, and will not be treated so.”

“Should you learn quickly and well, you need not be,” said Chaldrin, deep approval and satisfaction appearing in his dark eyes. “The Sword is not unskilled in unarmed battle, yet is he far from the level of skill he has with a blade. Should your own skill grow to adequacy, you may well be able to best him.”

“I shall dream of the fey,” said I, moving forward to put a hand to the broadness of Chaldrin’s shoulder. “Upon that fey I shall take a length of leather to Mehrayn, and then shall he learn of the indignity he so easily gives others.”

“And after the hiding, will you then use me?” came the voice of Mehrayn, filled with amusement. The male came from the trees we stood near, and halted beside Chaldrin with the amusement clear in his eyes. “Had I striped her back rather than warmed her bottom, she would have long since forgiven me,” said he to Chaldrin with a chuckle, reaching out to take my hand from the darker male’s shoulder. “You may attempt to teach her what she would know, brother, yet must she be disallowed the liberties she continues to take with you. As you will not again have her use, you will find the doing uncomfortable in the extreme should it continue, a thing the wench is innocently unaware of. It takes a man, I think, to appreciate the point.”

“Indeed,” agreed Chaldrin with matching amusement in his own eyes, naught to be seen of anger nor insult. “A man may appreciate her as a woman may not. You believe she will not acquire great enough skill to do you harm?”

“Should she grow to my size, my concern will grow as well,” said Mehrayn, his amusement continuing. “As you observed, I am not entirely unskilled, and perhaps not so unskilled as to fare badly against one who is of a size with me. Would you care to share a bit of sport with one who lacks your exalted standing?”

The pleasantness had not left Mehrayn’s face nor voice, yet was it clear that he gave challenge to Chaldrin in an area where the other male did not consider the bout lost before it had even begun. Vexation rose high in me that I would be unable to stand for Chaldrin in such a meeting even if Mehrayn did not withdraw the challenge, for these males were far too large for a warrior to best with empty hands. A faint smile came to Chaldrin, and deliberately did he fold his leather-clad wrists beneath his massive arms.

“The Sword must forgive me,” he drawled, “yet am I not far enough healed to accept so kind an offer. Should my apologies for having used the wench be insufficient to heal the insult, I will not refuse a meeting with blades. A man does, after all, have his rights.”

“And you would not deny me those rights, even though you would pay with your life,” observed Mehrayn, meeting Chaldrin’s eyes with a slow nod of understanding. “Nor will you face me in a meeting where you know yourself to be superior, for you feel you have not the right. The wench is correct in relying upon your honor, brother, for it is clear it will never fail her. It is my fondest hope, however, that another thing will fail her, and that from this fey forward. It would give me great pain to take the life of so honorable a man.”

“And Sigurr will surely not forgive me should I bring pain to his Sword,” said Chaldrin, chuckling. “What choice have I, save to say that her service was given by the gods to one other than myself? I will face any man who seeks to face me, yet am I not so foolish as to pit myself against the gods. I will not again allow the wench to lure me, and for this you have my word.”

“Entirely adequate, and far more pleasing than broken bones or spilled blood,” said Mehrayn with satisfaction, clapping Chaldrin briskly upon the shoulder. “Had I not known that the fault lay with the wench rather than with you, I would have allowed my sword to speak for me from the first. I will now take my leave of you, for there are things to be discussed with the wench herself.”

Chaldrin nodded with a continued chuckling as Mehrayn took my arm and pulled me with him, retracing his outward steps from the trees. I had no desire to accompany the male, yet was there little I might do against his strength—as yet. Branches and leaves beat at me as Mehrayn hurried me through the forest away from the clearing, and when a sufficient distance had been achieved, he halted and thrust me within a ring of closely set bushes. The grass was soft and thick and cool beneath my feet there, and thin golden ribbons of Mida’s light played down through the treetops.

“I have had enough of your thick, censuring silence, wench,” said Mehrayn, turning me so that I might look up at him. “You have been directed to serve me and obey me, and I have no wish to be served by a woman who will not speak to me. I have allowed you to sulk for a time, and now I command that you speak.”

“I obeyed Mehrayn’s command by remaining silent,” I replied with a shrug, allowing my gaze to rise no higher than the wide chest before me. “As no other insults are to be given him, I have naught further to say.”

Had his hand not remained upon my arm I would have turned away and left him there, for the impatience I had felt all of that fey continued to plague me. The male, however, was not of a mind to see me free. His hand closed somewhat more tightly about my arm, and his free hand came to raise my face so that I must look up into his eyes.

“I do believe I spoke truly when I said you would have already forgiven me had I striped your back rather than warmed your bottom,” said he with a narrowing of the green which looked down upon me. “Once we discussed the punishment given a warrior as opposed to that given a girl, and it would have been clear even without your agreement that you far preferred the greater pain of being done as a warrior. Never will you have a warrior’s punishment from me, wench, though in truth you are no other thing, however the punishment of a girl is another matter entirely. Will you give over your insolence, or must I continue as I have already done?”

I met the steadiness of his gaze in silence, attempting to show naught of the turmoil within me. The male was more than capable of giving me humiliation again and there was naught I might do to halt his intentions. His hand against my face was gentle despite the strength in it, and he waited no more than a moment for the answer I was not able to give.

“The turbulence in your dark, lovely eyes grows greater,” said he with a sigh, as though he truly believed the thought of humiliation would cow me. “I know not what might be done with you, wench, yet do I mean to know before this journey is done. For now I will merely have service from you, therefore are you to remove those weapons and that breech.”

With the command spoken his hands left me, giving me the opportunity to obey him. A long moment passed in hesitation before my hands were able to begin the movement toward my swordbelt, and truly did I believe that had Mida then appeared before me, I would have put many, many lives in jeopardy. To be set to the service of a male sat ill with me, putting the sort of humor upon me which must be washed away with blood.

Removing swordbelt and breech and dagger was unfortunately no more than the work of a moment, and then I merely stood within the ring of bushes, having obeyed the command I had been given. Mehrayn, with swordbelt and black covering already put aside, sat himself upon the grass, then lay back to look up at me.

“It seems I would have done far better had I asked for willing service,” said he, putting his hands beneath the back of his head. “It was not my intention to have you remove your weapons and breech so that you might merely stand there, girl. Come down here, and we shall begin you upon your service.”

He lay at his ease upon the thick, green grass, his tan, well made body clearly awaiting me, though he was as clearly not yet prepared for my use. I went to my knees beside him, taking care not to so much as brush his flesh, and a faint smile curved his lips.

“Should you intend seeing me regret having asked for your service, you will find disappointment,” said he, making no attempt to touch me. “Willingness does indeed make your use the sweeter, yet far better unwilling use than no use of you at all. I am helpless before the madness which possesses me, girl, a madness which I find myself unable to recover from. Bring your lips to mine, and press them to me as though you truly desired my use.”

I leaned over him with great care, still attempting to keep my flesh from his, yet my breasts touched the warmth of his chest even before our lips met. So strong and warm were those lips, demanding even in acceptance, setting my mind to whirling even as I strove to cling to thoughts of anger against Mida and fury for having been given the punishment of a girl. It was Mehrayn whose lips touched mine, Mehrayn whose flesh burned my flesh, Mehrayn whose wide shoulders were suddenly beneath my hands. Never would I be allowed to possess him, never would he be allowed to survive after having brought himself to the notice of Mida, yet was I as helpless as he against the madness which held us both. I had attempted to deny him and send him from me so his life would not be forfeit, yet had he refused to allow the thing which would have meant his safety. He had demanded my service from Mida and had been granted his demand, and though my confusion and lack of understanding was great, I did not truly begrudge him the boon. His arms circled me and pulled me close as my hands went to his face, bringing to me the knowledge that my service would forever be his.

“Jalav, my Jalav,” he crooned, rolling me to the grass so that he might lean over me and press his lips to my face all about. “You are truly mine, are you not, wench? Despite your anger with me and your attempts to ride from me, and your never-ending denial—you are now and always shall be mine!”

I am Mida’s, I whispered in my heart, unable to voice the words through the fierce possession of my lips. My vow to the goddess is unbreakable, and I shall ride in her service to the end of my time. I cannot deny you, my red-haired Sigurri male, for you will not allow it, and yet shall Mida deny you as she denied Ceralt, demanding that I turn from you as I turned from him. How strong and warm you are beneath my hands, Mehrayn, as warm and strong as Ceralt, and also in such a way did he part my legs with his knee and prepare to enter me. The feel of your manhood against my desire maddens me, and although I whimper and moan and struggle in your arms you enter me slowly, making me know the strength of he who is Sigurr’s Sword. Ceralt’s thrust was not so slow, his throbbing need pierced me quickly, and yet the feel of you within is the same, the breathless, sobbing, demanding, pleading desire put on me no matter my frantic wish to deny such feelings. Ah, Mida, how well the male uses me, the pleasure so great that I would weep unashamedly like the lowliest of slave women! Do you mean to take them both to serve you, to give you the pleasure only I now know? Am I to be denied them so that they might not interfere with the tasks I have been given—or in punishment at my having dared consider them without your let? Is it possible to retrieve one’s life-vow in challenge? Is it possible to challenge the gods? My thoughts fade to naught as the male touches my soul, and yet—is my sword skill truly less than yours?

To count the time passing in pleasure is not possible, for kalod are lived during reckid and hind, the time unending and yet ending too soon. When the need had passed from us I lay in Mehrayn’s arms, my face to his great chest, his hands spread across my back, beneath my hair. The thoughts I had had at the beginning of his use remained with me, returning the dark mood which had held me and the impatience as well. There were so great a number of matters to be thought upon that my head rang with the clatter of them all.

“Ah, Sigurr,” sighed Mehrayn, one hand coming to stroke my hair. “Clearly it was through your guidance that I failed to ask for the wench’s willing service. I am nearly done from her hesitation; had she been willing, she would surely have slain me.”

Gently did his arms tighten about me as he chuckled, clearly an attempt to reassure me that he made no sport of me, yet it would have mattered not even had he seriously sought to torment me. It would truly have been idle to attempt to deny my desire for him, not when touching him meant I must have him.

“You are a great fool, Mehrayn, greater even than other males,” I said, holding him as tightly as he held me, breathing in the musky male smell of him. “You must return to your Sigurri immediately, and remain with them till we meet again before the gates of Bellinard.”

“You would ask a man to break a vow to the gods?” said he, the amusement still with him as he toyed with my hair. “Had I not made the vow to guard your life with my own I would surely have ridden off and left you, yet now am I forced to remain here and submit over and over again to your service. The time will be greatly trying for me, and wearying as well, yet honor demands that I accept my suffering in silence.”

“It amuses you to act the fool,” said I in accusation, raising my head to look darkly upon him. “It is to be hoped that it will amuse you as well to be closed in Mida’s chains and set to her service.”

“You believe the goddess wishes me for her own?” he asked, mockery joining the amusement in his eyes. “Your opinion of my prowess is flattering, wench, yet would I prefer that you seek to keep me instead from other wenches like yourself. You would not face your Mida for me, I know, and I currently feel a great need to be jealously guarded.”

“There is more to be feared from a goddess than from her warriors,” I made answer to his foolishness, along with a sound of disdain. “Ceralt was denied me and so shall you be, yet I am now certain that unlike him, you are meant to be taken to serve. His fate would simply have been death, yet now do you both stand in jeopardy far greater than the endless dark. Should you return to your males, there is some faint possibility that the fate may be avoided.”

“You do not jest,” said he, losing all amusement as he looked closely upon me. “You truly believe the goddess wishes me for her own. Are you not able to see the outrageousness of such a suggestion, girl? I am no more than a man, naught to breed desire within a goddess! For what conceivable reason would she wish my service?”

“For the reason that I desire you,” I replied, seeking to banish the heavy doubt he showed with firm assurance. “Ceralt denied Mida’s existence, therefore was his own existence denied. You, however, have not only acknowledged her existence, you have asked for and been granted a boon. Such a doing is never without a price, and the price already offered by you is insufficient. Think you Mida has need of your swordarm to aid me, when none have yet been able to best me? And what of the time before our meeting? Who was it who stood before me then? No, male, Prince of Sigurr’s Sword Mehrayn, the goddess has no need of your swordarm. She desires my humiliation in punishment the while I am pledged to serve you, and then she will take you for her own and have your other sword instead. Perhaps she feels I will hunger for your blood as once I led her to believe I hungered for Ceralt’s, and for that reason will take you from me, both of you. It is denial she wishes for me, and denial she will have. You must return to your Sigurri, for even your god cannot aid you now.”

“For what reason would Sigurr be unable to aid me?” he asked, clearly shaken despite the steadiness of his voice, worry in the green of his eyes. “It continues to disturb me that you speak so—knowingly and intimately of the gods. I am Sigurr’s Sword, wench, Prince of his Blood and Chosen to lead his warriors into battle. For what reason would blessed Sigurr turn his back upon me?”

“Your god would have continued his protection of you had you remained in his domain,” I informed the male with all the scathing condemnation which then filled me, pushing from his unresisting arms to sit upon the thick, cool grass. “So clever was the male Mehrayn, however, and so intent upon his desire to plunge as deeply and as often as possible within a Midanna war leader, that he asked a boon of the goddess Mida, thereby taking himself from the domain of his god into the domain of another. Another who will see that he begs to plunge deep for all eternity.”

“I begin to see more fully the qualities of a war leader,” he muttered, as subdued before my anger as would have been a newly blooded warrior, a glance no more of his gaze than he was able to give me. “I have not had a dressing down such as that since the feyd of my training as a young warrior. You say you have seen the men chosen to serve the goddess?”

“Aye,” said I with a grim nod of acknowledgment, recalling those males whose souls were no longer their own. “It was during my time with Mida and Sigurr in their domain upon this world. Those who were commanded to serve me were naught save empty husks, well made and desirable without, trembling and fearful within. No males were they but slaves, held by that which was far worse than chains. And he who was taken to serve Mida herself was given the sthuvad drug, an aid Mida has no true need of, yet did it amuse her to do him so. She took me to where he lay chained to a couch of stone in a large, bright, otherwise empty cavern, the drug having been given him many hind earlier. The agony of forced lust strained his flesh so greatly that he screamed with the belief that it would soon part, yet was he denied the use of any save Mida, and she not then of a mind to indulge in that use. Insanity attempted to take him at sight of two whose use he had so great a need of, his struggles increasing the flow of blood from rawly savaged wrists and ankles where the chains held him, yet neither insanity nor death were allowed him. No release, no freedom, not even escape to the final darkness. Is that what you wish for yourself, Mehrayn?”

Silence hung between us as the male stared upon me, an unnamable expression strong in his eyes. A faint breath of cool whispered about the bushes we sat among, yet was the pleasure of it without strength enough to banish the heaviness left by my words. A long moment passed with the silence, and then did Mehrayn stiffen somewhat where he sat.

“When first we met, you spoke of your soul having been slain by the god I serve,” said he, unbelievably making no mention of that which he had been told. “Much did I believe that you spoke so through lack of true knowledge of the use of men, yet have I since learned differently. You are fully aware of the strength men may bring to a wench, therefore do your previous words take on new meaning. Tell me of the use you had from my god.”

Memory of the use I had had from Sigurr remained as strong within me as though the doing were only just past, and briefly did I feel again the terror and agony and soul illness of the time. A shudder touched me, as it ever did when I thought upon the thing, and then was the feeling pushed aside by matters of greater moment.

“Mehrayn, we do not now discuss Sigurr,” said I, a bit impatiently. “It is Mida we must consider, for it is she . . . . ”

“No!” He interrupted sharply and harshly, the green of his eyes having turned very cold as his hand came gently to my arm. “It is Sigurr I must hear of, for it is he who holds my vow of fealty. For what reason did you twice nearly spill my blood when I spoke of the possibility of your being taken to Sigurr’s arms? For what reason have you never truly spoken of your time in Sigurr’s domain, nor discussed the blessing of his use? What was done to you to make you feel and act so?”

Ardently were those answers demanded of me, answers the male believed he truly craved. He served Sigurr as I served Mida, yet what choice had we in that service?

“It would not be possible to speak of the time to one who was not then present,” I replied, taking no note of the way his hand tightened upon my arm, the way the cold deepened in his eyes. “The use of Sigurr was—not as the use of his Sigurri, for he is a god and they are not. Just as Mida is a goddess. Will you continue to court disaster, or will you display the reason other males lack?”

“Woman, I dislike the manner in which you avoid my queries,” growled Mehrayn, a great dissatisfaction upon him. His hand left my arm yet his gaze remained upon me, little warming to be seen therein. “It seems most clear that there is much you must yet be made to speak of, yet shall I refrain from pressing the point—for the moment. There will be another time when the words flow more freely, and at that time I shall listen.”

His hand came gently to my face in a brief caress, and then he rose to his feet, looking about himself for his body cloth. I, too, arose from the grass and retrieved my breech, feeling a deep satisfaction that Mehrayn would return to his males, a thing I knew from his having spoken of another time. The doing would surely be best for him, for it would take him from the immediate notice of Mida, perhaps to be forgotten altogether amid the arrival of the strangers and the battle to follow. I replaced the life-sign-wound dagger in my leg bands and lifted my swordbelt, then turned again to Mehrayn.

“Best would be if you and the others depart as quickly as you have fed,” said I, aware of the scent of roast lellin upon the faint, sweetly pleasant breeze. “We shall meet again before the walls of Bellinard, and then, perhaps, shall find it possible to discuss now the battle shall be fought., Without knowledge of the enemy, it will be difficult to . . . .

“Hold, wench, hold,” interrupted the male, one hand raised. “Where do you think I ride, that you send me forth in so commanding a manner? I have voiced no intentions of departing. ”

“You continue to refuse?” I demanded in disbelief, the usual confusion I found when conversing with males returning to swirl about me. “When it would be mindless to remain? When you would not then be able to take yourself from the notice of Mida? When you spoke of another time?”

“When I continue to have a wench who must serve me?” he returned with a laugh, the amusement fully upon him. “The other time I spoke of will appear in due course, and I must be present when it does. Do you mean to don your swordbelt, or cart it in one hand?”

My eyes lowered to the weapon he gestured toward, its presence having entirely escaped me amid the vast annoyance of his continued insistences. With short, angry motions I wrapped it about myself and secured it, then looked again upon the fool of a male.

“You will surely be present when many things occur,” said I with disgust, my hands resting upon the newly replaced swordbelt. “Do not fail to give my greetings to Mida when her chains close about you, and the sthuvad drug begins to flow down your throat. It will be then that you will truly regret not having taken yourself from her sight, yet will the time for so reasonable a doing be long behind you.”

I began to turn from him then, to leave that place and return to the others, however a large hand came to my arm to halt me.

“Should the goddess mean to have me, I will be hers though I ride to the farthest ends of the world,” said he, little disturbance to be heard in his voice. “I am as yet far from convinced that she does indeed wish me for her own, yet am I certain as to the earnest wishes of another female. This wench desires me as greatly as I desire her, yet does it infuriate her that she must serve me whenever I wish it. The situation would be acceptable were it turned the other way about, yet the need for her own obedience is like a thorn bush thrust against the tender flesh of her pride. Would you be so deeply convinced of the mortal danger I stood in were you not commanded to obey and serve me, girl? Would you be so eager to see me gone from this traveling party were you not mine to do with as I please?”

The strength in the green of his gaze was clear as he looked down upon me, an annoyance nearly as thick as my own accompanying it. The male was a fool and I have little patience with fools, therefore did I attempt to pull my arm from his grip in order to depart. Rather than release me he abruptly pulled me close, locking his arms about me to keep me before him.

“It disturbs you most, I know, that I refuse to do as you think best,” said he, his voice now soft with understanding. “You would see me safely away and secure from peril, yet, wench—are you unable to see that I wish the same for you? I have no doubt that should I require the presence of your sword and the skill of your swordarm, they would be there to aid me; am I not to be allowed to do the same for you? Think you I would find life full and satisfying elsewhere, knowing you rode to danger and I too far from there to give what aid I might? Life would be bereft of all save duty were you lost to me; far sooner would I spend that life in your defense than keep it and be forced to live it. And perhaps we two might use our skill to see to the safety of one another, in a situation where either of us alone would fall. Will you send me from you to ride alone, and therefore fail to be there when I have need of you? Will you let me fall, never again to rise, merely by cause of your annoyance over having to serve me?”

The strength of his arms continued to hold me to the warm, firm flesh of him, else would I have surely fled with my hands clapped to my ears, to keep all further words of his from reaching me. My agitation was so great that I pushed hard against the chest of the male, freeing myself from his suddenly loosening hold, and then sped away from him. Once again I knew not what to do, and my head buzzed and whirled with the confusion thought brought.

The others were already partaking of the lellin when I reached the clearing, and although I had no true wish for provender it was far easier accepting that which was given me than refusing it and thereby beginning a many-sided discussion. I took myself and the lellin to the far side of the fire and sat, beside none of those who rode with me, disturbed by none of them. Wedin and Dotil and Ilvin and Chaldrin all looked upon me with concern in their silence, and so, too, did the male S’Heernoh. Only the two Sigurri took especial note of the appearance of Mehrayn, they having prepared and kept his provender for him. His low words of thanks preceded his seating himself by them, and then he hungrily began upon the flesh he had been given.

My eyes went to the lellin I, myself, held, the churning in my middle speaking of a need too long held in abeyance, yet did I not begin upon it.

“That lellin is meant to be eaten, not merely torn apart,” said Chaldrin, his appearance and Ilvin’s before me startling me. Dotil and Wedin accompanied the male and the Hitta, and all four crouched down to give me the sobriety of their gazes.

“Are you ill, war leader?” asked Ilvin, deep concern in the pale blue of her eyes, her hand raising somewhat before halting, as though she had meant to put it to my shoulder before thinking better of the doing. “Has the male harmed you in some manner?”

“We find it difficult to believe that Mida has given you to him,” said Wedin her dark eyes disturbed as her right hand toyed with the hilt of her dagger. “Might it not be some nefarious scheme contrived by the male, designed to hoodwink us all into belief?”

“My life sign glowed with Mida’s own golden light,” I made answer, looking down at the lellin I had twisted and torn between my hands. “Who other than a god might have caused it to glow in such a manner? Should the male have contrived the doing, he, too, must be a god, and therefore would all discussion upon the point remain idle. I am his to command and use, save that he may not interfere with my tasks on behalf of the goddess.” My eyes then went to Chaldrin, where he crouched as did the others. “Have you no other welcome tidings, brother, which it would please you to share with all the world?” I asked, at last taking a mouthful of the redly running provender I held. “Do not hesitate to speak, for all eagerly await your words.”

“These wenches follow you as I do, girl,” he rumbled, naught of diffidence breaking into his usual calm. “They asked after what disturbed you, therefore did I inform them as to what was imparted to me. I was not, you may recall, asked to keep silent upon the matter. Surely you would have soon informed them yourself.”

“A warrior’s shame is not so easily discussed,” I muttered about a mouthful, still upset, then did I turn my eyes to the others. “As Mida is so clearly displeased with me, it is in my mind that best would be for us to take separate trails. I would not bring her wrath down upon you as well, for no other reason than that you accompany me.”

“You ask us to abandon you?” declared Dotil, outrage clear in the light of her eyes, her body stiffening as did Wedin’s. “Surely such abandonment would be of greater distaste to the goddess than our remaining, and surely would we then also be punished! No, war leader of the Hosta, we will not do as you suggest!”

“Nor may I,” said Ilvin, she sharing the agreement shown Wedin. “I have given my vow upon a certain matter, and must therefore remain beside the one who holds that vow. Against the time I will be released, you understand.”

Her amusement was clear, this warrior who had so disliked the need to follow and serve a male, she who now crouched companionably close to Chaldrin and no longer scowled upon him. I saw the difference in Ilvin which I had earlier failed to note, and her amusement turned wry at the questioning gaze I sent to her.

“Clearly I must now admit that your punishment is no longer a punishment,” said she, something of a sigh taking her. “I have not yet learned the lesson you wished to teach, war leader, yet have I learned one which was unanticipated by both of us.”

Her crouch became a cross-legged, seated position, and when the others had done as she, she again sent a faint smile toward me.

“It had not occurred to me that there might be differences among males,” said she, shaking her head to send her pale hair back from about her arms. “The sthuvad which our clan used, the males we fought in the city called Bellinard, those who held me captive—all were of the same sort, fit for naught save us or death, no more to be noticed than Mida’s ground beneath a warrior’s feet. Deep outrage took me that I was required to serve one of that ilk, and I sought to force the male to the challenge so that I might rid myself of him. When he refused to issue a challenge I grew even more enraged, and began thinking of naught save the fey I would be able to issue challenge of my own.”

Again her smile grew wry, and her hand rose to stroke her life sign where it hung between her breasts.

“When I spoke of my intentions to you,” she continued, “you replied that the life of the male was precious to you, and should it be my intention to end that life, my vow might never be returned. Never had I been given such devastating upset, and for a time all thought was impossible to me. For a war leader of Midanna to speak so of a male! And then, slowly, it came to me to wonder upon the reason you spoke so. I looked again upon the male, considered the actions he had taken with me, then spent much of the darkness of the storm speaking with him. Though his treatment of me was of the sort to be given a city slave-woman, the doing was in accordance with your wishes—and it became clear that he, himself, looked upon me as a warrior and would have honored me for the state had he been left to his own devices. There is naught within him of the cruelty of others, and I have discovered that I need only speak of some matter with which I have difficulty, and he will aid me if he may. I continued to dislike being forced to give him service, yet the matter is no longer a punishment, merely an inconvenience which is easily borne.”

Ilvin’s words ceased in a somewhat shame-faced manner, yet was it Chaldrin I looked sourly upon as I chewed and swallowed the lellin. The male was clearly taken by amusement, and when I looked upon him, he chuckled.

“The wench has most obviously taken a liking to my use,” said he, his dark eyes making no effort to avoid mine. “Will you have me beat her for showing such excellent taste?”

Both the Summa and Ilvin laughed aloud at Chaldrin’s sally, knowing the male intended no such thing, and Wedin shook her dark-haired head.

“You may not lay the blame for the thing at the feet of the male, Jalav,” said she, looking fondly upon him whom I called brother. “He is, as spoken of by both you and the Hitta, without the cruelty of other males. He may, in honor, do no more than he has already done. Has your purpose been served?”

“No, Wedin, my purpose has not been served,” I replied with weariness, throwing the lellin bones from me and then wiping the blood and grease from my fingers with two handfuls of grass. “Or perhaps it has been served, and I merely unaware of the accomplishment. Had Ilvin followed me elsewhere than to the Sigurri, her word would now be held by another, never to be returned to her; yet—is she a warrior and free, free to ride where she wills, free to spend her life in any manner she sees fit. I am no longer able to see the truth as clearly as once I did, therefore shall I no longer insist upon possibly pointless punishments. Ilvin, your word is now returned to you; you may ride and do at the direction of no one save yourself.”

I put my hand to the Hitta’s shoulder to show I felt no anger toward her, yet was I unable to meet her eyes. My efforts to show her without agony that which I had learned amid great pain had failed, and should her life and freedom be subsequently lost, the blame for the thing would be mine alone. I rose quickly to my feet and went directly to my kan, mounted in a single leap after freeing my reins, then rode from the clearing. My attempt to save Ilvin had failed, much as many of my other recent attempts, and no longer was I sure of the rightness of my path. Unaccustomed indecision twisted me about within, and much did I silently revile myself for having avoided the teeth and claws of the lenga.

The others once again rode in my near wake when darkness approached, therefore did I call a halt before a clamor might again arise. The forest had withdrawn from a wide, lovely meadow, and I drew rein beside a small yet swiftly running stream, dismounted, then stretched into the fey’s lowering light. The heat continued sultry all about and heavy upon one’s shoulders, and I bent to the stream to drink as my kan did, bringing the wetness to cool my insides until I might slip into the waters and see to my outward flesh. Silence had returned to those four who followed me, yet had there been many words from Summa, Hitta and male before that return. Each had attempted to question me as to that which whirled about in my head, yet how was I to speak of those things which could not even be thought upon? Polite refusal at last saw to the Summa, firmer refusal and an assurance of lack of anger took Ilvin from my shadow, yet was there naught which moved Chaldrin from his insistences till I called down Mida’s wrath upon his head and rode from him at high speed. His kan, more heavily burdened than mine, found itself unable to match the pace I set, therefore was the male forced to fall back. When I had ridden from Chaldrin for the third time he gave up his attempts, and took up a position beside Mehrayn. The two had ridden together from then on, a thing which had happily kept them both from bedeviling me.

When my kan had drunk his fill I took him from the stream edge, staked him out upon a long line which allowed him to graze freely upon the thick, sweet meadow grass, then returned to the stream to wash the heat of the fey from my body. The water was beautifully cold, a thing which drew the others of my set, all save the male S’Heernoh, who was set to skinning the kirol which had been slain by Dotil and Wedin. The kirol was a long-snouted, short-tusked child of the wild which is more easily hunted with spears than bows, yet had the Summa been keen for its flesh and had made do with shafts. It was clear the male would have preferred bathing to skinning, yet had he accepted the chore with no more of a demurral than a sigh, a soft chuckling coming to him thereafter as though something amused him. Odd was the male S’Heernoh, perhaps even more so than other males, surely well suited to all that which then occurred about me.

Much did it cause me great upset to be so enclosed by events and the doings of others that I felt borne along by those events, my own actions forced upon me and none of my choosing. The stream current tugged strongly at me, swirling my wet hair about and attempting to carry it away, seemingly whispering that best would be if I were to leave all those who laughed and splashed and cavorted upstream from where I stood, and continue on alone. Much did I wish to do so, so much so that the need was a struggling, demanding heaviness within me, yet without the Summa I rode I knew not where; were two to accompany me the other six were naught, for it was complete solitude I craved, not some partial shadow of it. I turned from the bank in the deep red of fey’s end, and began to stroke toward the far side of the stream.

The stream was not much widened from where it left the forest a short distance away, and no more than a few reckid saw me at its other bank. I pulled myself up and sat with feet adangle in the water, squeezing the wetness from my hair as I moved about upon the grass, seeking to halt its attempts to cling to my bottom. The lowering light showed me the others at the opposite side of the stream, Ilvin, Wedin and Dotil showering great splashes of water upon Chaldrin and the two Sigurri warriors, the males retaliating in kind, all laughing well at the foolishness, even Mehrayn, who merely stood in the stream and observed the others. I did not begrudge them their laughter and joy, yet was I far from a state where I might join them in their play with a fullness of heart. The lack increased the annoyance I felt, over the length of the journey before me, over the need to do as I had no wish to do, over the indecision concerning Mehrayn’s presence or absence, over the need to face all enemy Midanna at once, over the strangers who would come. I threw the heavy, twisted coil of my hair behind me, rose to my feet upon the stream bank, then walked toward the blood-red remnants of Mida’s dying light, afloat in the thoughts I could not rid myself of. I walked from the stream bank, again attempting to find the words which would need to be spoken to the enemy clans of Midanna, and they came at me from behind the clouds of sightlessness and lack of hearing in which I was enmeshed. The first I knew of their presence was hands on my arms and a fist in my hair, tightening quickly and cruelly, and causing my lips to part in a gasp of surprise and pain. Just so quickly as my lips parted was a wad of cloth thrust between them, a thin length of leather immediately tied about to hold the thing within, the strength of male hands holding me where I struggled. Three males there were, the gray of their body cloths difficult to see in the waning light, and with the strip of leather tied I was hurriedly taken by them into the forests, from which they had obviously emerged.

Once among the trees and no longer in danger of observation by their enemies, the gray-clad males ceased their hurry and came to a halt. Two of them continued to hold to my arms as all three looked upon me, and the shadows were not so thick that their great pleasure was difficult to see. I struggled in their grasp, attempting to pull free, and he before me laughed softly.

“Truly was it the will of the Serene Oneness that we leave the expedition and begin the return to our city.” said he, putting a hand out to fondle my breast. Light-haired was the male, as were the other two, all three not much larger than I, yet considerably stronger. “—We now have a wench to serve us without the need to do battle for her, a wench who was sent to our waiting hands.”

“I give thanks that we observed their arrival rather than they observing ours,” said a second, he who held to my left aria. “This one would not then have come running to us. What of the other wenches still at their camp?”

“Those who ride with us will surely return for them,” said the first, bringing his free hand to the place between my thighs. Again I struggled, attempting to avoid his touch, yet the other two each put a knee behind my thighs, forcing me to endure the outrage rather than escape it. The male stroked and toyed till the heat began to rise within me despite my fury, and then he laughed. “Should the others be as hot as this one,” said he, “their capture will be well worth the small effort of slaying the men who now hold them. We are, after all, twelve to their four, the slavey who toils for them unarmed and therefore of little concern. The others should not need our assistance, yet shall they have it, should they be willing to wait till we have thoroughly used our little bird here.”

“I shall use her last,” said the second, he who held to my left arm, his tongue moistening his lips as he looked upon the manner in which I was forced to move by the hand at my thighs. “She squirms about now with the need you put upon her, and I care little for eager acceptance by the wench beneath me. I will have her fear and pain instead, which will bring her more quickly to know me her master.”

“She will know me her master when I choose to ease her,” replied the first, joining the laughter of the third, purposefully continuing with his efforts to heat me. “She will be taught to beg her use, and prettily, else shall I keep her in need the whole fey through, squirming and weeping and unable to halt the flames within her. She will learn to crawl to me and kiss my feet, and please me well before her own need is seen to.”

“And she is large, and will likely afford us longer use than the last wench we shared,” put in the third with high-pitched laughter, speaking for the first time, spittle running from the corner of his mouth. “She will serve us all, and well, else shall I open her throat with my blade and drink her lifeblood!”

The edge of the male’s dagger was at my throat then, his laughter shared by the other two, and surely would I have snarled in rage had the cloth wad not been thrust in my mouth. Was a warrior of Mida, a war leader of Midanna, to tremble in fear at the touch of a dagger at her throat, to obey the demands of males to halt the spilling of her lifeblood’? Should the males end me I would then have the solitude I craved, a state they knew not how deeply was desired by me. Perhaps I would have laughed had the cloth not been there, for the males knew naught of what thoughts touched me, and would therefore, at some time, see me free so that I might serve them. They each of them wore swords, and should a hilt come to my hand, my life would be sold dearly indeed.

“We must take her in proper style to our camp,” said the male before me, his toying continuing without halt. “She now squirms even with the blade threatening her, and would surely beg had she not been silenced. Bind her wrists, Cludain, the while Clomain ties a lead upon her.”

“For what reason must it ever be Cludain and I who bind the wenches?” said he who held the dagger, he who now withdrew it with great reluctance and petulance. “For what reason may we not give her our attention as you now give her yours, Mondolain?”

“For the reason that we wish use from her before the arrival of the end of her strength,” said the male before me in amusement, he who was called Mondolain. “Should you and your brother attend her, Clomain, she will be fit for naught save feeding to the beasts of this forest. And yet I have thought of an amusement which may be seen to when we have returned to camp, and you may perform it if you wish.”

“An amusement!” exclaimed this Clomain, he who stood to my right, immediately brightening. “Ever have I been fond of your amusements, Mondolain! I will certainly assist you. ”

“Excellent,” murmured he before me, a faint smile upon his lips as he gazed upon me. He took no note of the manner in which he to my left drew my arms behind me and tightly knotted leather about my wrists, nor the manner in which the third did the same with a length of leather about my throat. The leather had been held in the swordbelts of these males, and much did it seem that that leather had seen a deal of similar use. He before me continued to increase my need, and much amusement did he find in my inability to keep from burning as he wished. When the leather was tightly upon me he at last ceased his ministrations, then took the leather lead from the male Clomain.

“See the lovely kan filly we have captured, my friends,” said Mondolain, reaching to stroke my hair with a laugh. “Let us lead her before the others so that they, too, may admire her before we mount and ride.”

He pulled hard upon the throat leather then, nearly sending me from my feet, pulling me forward as he strode off more deeply into the forest. The other two males laughed, Clomain more shrilly than Cludain, both following quickly, though Clomain paused briefly with a further laugh. In a moment had his footsteps rejoined his brother’s, yet another hand of hurried steps were forced upon me before I learned of the reason for his pause.

“Hat, filly, step along more briskly there!” came the voice of Clomain, accompanied by the sharp sting of a switch across my thighs. Again the three males laughed, and again I would have snarled, yet there was naught else I might do for it. Bound in leather and pulled by the neck, I was able to do no more than follow.

The distance to the camp of the gray-clad males was not far, and those who peopled the camp sprang to their feet with exclamations of surprise at our appearance. The male Mondolain continued his unrelenting pull till we stood in the very center of the camp, near to the large, now easily seen fire, and then he turned to the others.

“The first of four, my friends!” he cried, attempting to send me to my knees by a sharp pull upon the leather he held. As I stood flat-footed he did no more than bring an ache to my neck—till one of those behind struck my knees with his second pull. Down I went, nearly pitching forward on my face, and the laughter set flame to my rage so that it well nigh boiled over. My teeth set hard in the cloth between my lips, my wrists pulled furiously at the leather which held them, and little of the grass, dirt and stones beneath my knees penetrated my awareness.

“The first of four, my friends,” laughed Mondolain, drawing the leather about my throat as tight as he was able. “The other three are as toothsome as this one, and held by only four men. We will gladly accompany you in the taking of them—as soon as we have taught this one to know the men she now serves. Clomain!”

“Yes, Mondolain!” acknowledged the third male eagerly amid the stirring excitement and laughter of those who had been found within the camp. “Are we to begin the amusement?”

“Indeed we are,” said Mondolain, sending an already amused glance at the switch the other male held. My thighs and calves ached from the doing of that switch, nearly as much as my hand ached for the hilt of my sword. “We must be sure our filly is not lost among the others,” said Mondolain, his eyes close upon me. “Therefore must we mark her clearly as ours. Draw your dagger Clomain, and come stand beside me.”

The switch was quickly discarded as the male drew his blade from its sheath at his swordbelt, and then he, too, stared upon me from beside the other, the flames of the fire glinting off the blade he held with such eagerness, spittle again running from the corner of his mouth.

“See how large and insolent her breasts are, Clomain,” murmured the other into what had become a deep, breathless silence, his eyes close to glowing. “Such breasts draw a man’s eyes and hands; therefore shall we make certain that all know whose property they are being drawn to. We shall mark her with the letters of our names, Clomain, one letter upon each of her breasts, cut deep so that they will scar properly when they have healed. Are we not fortunate that there are no more than the two letters among the three of us? Had it not been so, we would require a wench with three breasts.”

“Indeed, a wench with three breasts!” laughed Clomain, his hands caressing his dagger, the wildness in his laughter bringing a chill to those who stood about in the warmth of the darkness. One or two attempted to join his laughter, yet was their mirth filled more with fear than amusement, for the male before me truly relished the thought of that which he would do. His use of the dagger would be slow, I knew, and fervently did I give thanks that what pain I felt would be unable to pass my lips, yet thought of the shame in being marked so brought a trembling to my body which I was unable to halt. No honest battle scars would I be given, but the marks of ownership by males! My breathing grew faster to the great thud off my heart, and when I made to rise to my feet, a fist came suddenly to tangle painfully in my hair.

“Begin now, Clomain,” came the voice of the other, he who was called Cludain, he who continued to stand to my left. By the fistful of hair was I bent backward enough so that he with the dagger would have no difficulty in reaching me, also disallowing me all possibility of rising. “Perhaps I will take her first after all,” said Cludain, “yet must you begin now.”

The voice of the male who held me was thick, companioning the smell of desire which was equally thick upon him. The male was greatly aroused by the pain I would be given, a thing which brought me greater illness than the prospect of the doing itself. A rush of hatred for all things male flashed deeply through me as he with the dagger came slowly, laughingly forward, and when his free hand touched me softly, caressingly, truly did I believe I would soon be even more deeply ill despite the cloth between my teeth. Again I struggled where I was held, sweat slicking my body and face, the dagger now coming to touch my flesh—and then was it suddenly withdrawn in shocked surprise.

“Jalav, where have you gone to?” came the call of alight, unconcerned voice, clearly the voice of Ilvin. “Darkness has fallen, and Mehrayn desires your service. You must return and see to him, for he grows most agitated. Jalav!”

All in the camp had turned at the sound of Ilvin’s voice, even those who stood about me. With my hair no longer held in so tight a grip I, too, was able to look toward the sound, and then was it no longer sound alone which took the attention of all. Into the clearing stepped Ilvin, her long, pale hair wet yet from her swim across the stream, her body as bare as mine and also pale from the faint illumination thrown upon it by the firelight. She halted a scant step within the clearing, looked all about herself, then let her eyes come to me.

“What do you all do here?” she demanded angrily. “That is not a city slave-woman you hold, therefore are you to release her at once!”

“Rather than release her, my pretty,” said Mondolain, a slow grin taking him, “it would please us more to have you join her. You were to be ours in any event, yet sooner is more desirable than later. Seize her, you men!”

His command was for those who stood nearest Ilvin, and with whoops of laughter did four begin to run toward the unmoving Hitta warrior. Fury came to me that the fool of a warrior would do no more than stand and await the capture of these males, yet through the fury was I struck by the faint amusement which appeared upon the face of Ilvin. I had no more understanding of that amusement than had the gray-clad males, yet were we quickly shown the reason for it.

“Perhaps you would also care to seize me,” said Chaldrin, suddenly appearing from behind a tree no more than two steps from Ilvin, a sword held in each of his hands. He, too, was otherwise bare of covering, and as he halted beside her, she took her sword from him.

“You, male, are scarcely as seizable as I,” said Ilvin, settling the hilt in her fist with a widening grin. “It is I they wish to seize, therefore must they be allowed to do so. Come, males, come and seize me.”

Those who had begun to make for Ilvin had halted at the appearance of Chaldrin, milling about with hands to weapons as though in great confusion. All had been startled by the abrupt appearance of the male, yet startlement held Mondolain the shortest.

“He is no more than one blade against your four!” he called to those who milled about. “The wench is naught, and may be taken when his blood flows to the ground! Down him quickly and then seize her!”

“Ah, now am I able to understand,” said Chaldrin as the four drew and began a cautious advance upon him. “I am to be downed, wench, while you are to be seized. I had thought at first that I was to be ignored entirely.”

“No, it is I they think to ignore,” said Ilvin with a sniff of contempt, her attention close upon those who approached. “A pity they will not survive to learn how greatly they err.”

A grin took Chaldrin at the scorn in Ilvin’s tone, and then the four who approached rushed together upon him. He and Ilvin stood shoulder to shoulder as the clash of fire-glaring blades sounded for a brief moment, and then one of the gray-clad males stepped back in shock the while his brothers fell lifelessly to the ground.

“Ha! You were mistaken, girl,” said Chaldrin, gesturing with a red-streaked blade to the male who continued to back from the two. “There is one who survives to learn how greatly he has erred.”

“For now,” agreed Ilvin as she again raised her own redly glistening weapon. “We shared the last of those three, therefore am I due the fourth alone. I am, after all, a warrior of Mida, and you no more than simply a male.”

“Slay them,” whispered Mondolain, a sudden trembling taking him. “Slay them both and slay them now!”

His scream of rage brought the others, forward as they dragged weapon from scabbard, and surely did I think to see Chaldrin and Ilvin stand back to back against so many; that they merely stood as they had with grins upon their faces brought me confusion, yet again the confusion was quickly seen to.

“Are we also to be allowed to slay them?” came a voice, and this time the followers of the Oneness whirled to see Wedin and the Sigurri male Gidain to the right, Dotil and the second Sigurri Rinain to the left. Each held a sword, each was completely bare, and each wore a grin resembling those upon Chaldrin and Ilvin. It was the male Gidain who had spoken, and the words brought even greater rage to Mondolain.

“Our numbers remain greater than theirs!” he screamed to his males, many of whom began trembling in fear. “Attack now and together, and victory may still be ours!”

Fear now drove the gray-clad ones, therefore did they obey without hesitation. All six made for Chaldrin and Ilvin, thinking to take those two and then have fewer to face when the Summa and Sigurri reached them. Ilvin and Chaldrin were quickly engaged, the Summa and Sigurri ran as quickly to their aid, and he who was called Mondolain trembled in fear and fury as he watched.

“They may best us,” he muttered, a wildness to the muttering. “Our numbers were greater than theirs, and yet they may best us. It is all the fault of the wench, and she, at least, will not live to mock us.”

With the end of his muttering was his sword drawn slowly clear of its scabbard, and then he turned toward me, his intent plain. That he and his two stood without aiding the others was of no moment to him, nor was the lack of ability of those he rode with. I pulled again, futilely, at the leather which bound me as Mondolain and his two turned full to look upon me, then ceased my struggles in confusion when their eyes rose in startlement to look beyond me.

“The wench may well have asked to be taken by strolling about alone and unarmed, yet you need not have obliged her,” came the voice of Mehrayn, from the sound of it so near that he was well nigh upon me. “A man must learn to be responsible for the consequences of his own doings, else shall those consequences be the last he receives in this life.”

“You are a fool to believe you may stand before us alone,” said Mondolain to Mehrayn, his face now twisted in a sneer of gratification. “We three, at least, will have the opportunity of losing ourselves in the darkness of the forests, and you may go to your death knowing the wench will accompany us. When she follows you to your unknown god’s pastures, you will no longer find her recognizable. Let us take him now, and quickly!”

His final words were hissed urgently to his companions, yet before they might comply Mehrayn, as bare as the others, had leapt to a place before me, bringing the battle to those who foolishly thought to slay him. The swords of all three made frantic attempt to reach him, yet he knocked their blades aside with a sound of contempt, his effortless replies causing the gray-clad males to strain to keep his point from their bodies. Again and again the three attempted to best the one, yet their sword skill was no greater than that of the others of their ilk; when abruptly the male Clomain gasped and drew his brother back with him, Mondolain was left to face Mehrayn alone.

“Disengage quickly, Mondolain!” Clomain cried, grasping Cludain by the arm in shrill terror. “His shoulder—Can you not see his shoulder? He is a Prince of the Blood in Sigurr’s legions!”

“No!” screamed Mondolain, taken fully by terror, yet had the warning come far too late. Mehrayn’s sword slid easily within his belly, bringing forth gurgling redness from his mouth, and then did the male slip lifelessly to the ground, his sword falling from eternally numbed fingers.

Cludain and Clomain watched till Mondolain lay crumpled in his own blood, and then did they begin, as one, to back from Mehrayn. No longer was Cludain distant and Clomain wildly amused, for the two were filled with a fear which paled them to powder, and set their limbs to trembling as though with a fever. Step by step they backed, their eyes unmoving from Mehrayn, who slowly pursued them, till the breath of their god upon the backs of their necks caused them to jerk their heads about. Behind them were none living save those of my traveling set, the six of whom also slowly advanced with bloodied blades, the still forms of those who had been followers of the Serene Oneness covering the ground behind them. A soul-lost whimper escaped Clomain, his sword fell from an unfeeling grip, and then did he go to his knees, in the fire-lit darkness and grasp the leg of his brother with both arms.

“They mean to give me hurt, Cludain!” he cried, trembling and holding desperately to his brother, as though to hide himself. “I do not wish to be hurt, Cludain, therefore must you send them from me! Send them from me! Send them from me!”

The words of the male turned to wordless screams, echoing about the camp and tearing at the flesh of those who heard them. He who was called Cludain stood with point down and eyes nearly closed, a shudder running through him at his brother’s terror that was clearly derived from great pleasure. All had halted short of the two, males and warriors alike, disgust covering the faces of the males, frowns upon the warriors. When he who was erect clasped himself one-handed with the agony of his pleasure, the Hitta and two Summa warriors lost their frowns and advanced together to circle about and stand before the two. Wedin and Dotil quickly raised their blades as Ilvin guarded their backs, and then was there sharpened metal plunged into the bodies of the last of those who were gray-clad, ending screams of terror and grunts of pleasure together. Those males who rode with our set remained unmoving even after the two brothers had fallen side by side, a thing which showed them possessed of greater reason than most males. The sight of those bereft too often brought pity to males, filling them only with thoughts of those whom the gods had crookedly touched, taking all thought of those who would be victim to such unfortunates. Kindest and wisest was to end ones unable to live as those about them, for in such an ending lay the sole salvation of those innocents who would feed their monstrous appetites. Had it been possible to straighten their crookedness the Summa would surely have done that instead; with straightening impossible, no other avenue was practical save that which they had taken.

“You wenches had best clean your blades as quickly as possible,” said Chaldrin in a rumble filled with vast distaste, his eyes upon the two males who lay upon the ground. “I have heard it said that the blood of ones such as they may poison a man simply by its touch. We would none of us wish to be poisoned in such a manner.”

The faces of the two Sigurri warriors reflected fervent agreement with Chaldrin’s words, and then was I able to see no further of them, for Mehrayn had turned and come back toward me. He stood before me as his hand went to the leather which held the cloth between my lips, the leather was freed, and then was the cloth pulled away. I attempted to return moisture to my mouth as I awaited the removal of the leather from my wrists, yet Mehrayn crouched before me instead, his gore-smeared sword still held in his fist.

“I give thanks to Sigurr that that madman had not the time to use his dagger upon you,” said he, his shadowed eyes looking down upon me. “Ilvin’s appearance kept him from it as it was meant to, and no later opportunity was allowed him. For what reason did you take yourself to this side of the stream, alone and without a single weapon? How was it possible for those three to have surprised you so easily?”

“Consideration of the tasks yet before me filled my mind too full,” I husked, the cloth taste remaining to plague my tongue. “So many are the matters which demand my attention, that nearly did I find an end to them all. The state is distasteful, and once again I must give my thanks for having had my life returned to me. Will you now remove the leather upon my wrists?”

“Distasteful,” said he, continuing to stare upon me without attempting to do as I had asked. The others, not far distant to begin with, came to stand and stare in a similar manner, silent in the darkness. “Nearly does she end mutilated or slain, and the state is distasteful,” said Mehrayn in a mutter. “She wanders about lost in thought, unconcerned over that which occurs about her, finds herself taken captive by madman, and considers the matter no more than distasteful. ”

“Clearly is it through Mida’s wishes that we accompany her,” said Wedin, something of annoyance to be heard in her voice. “Mida desires the survival of her chosen during times of difficulty, therefore are we to guard the war leader in her distraction. Our presence can have no other purpose.”

“Indeed,” said Dotil with a firm nod from Ilvin, even the two Sigurri males clearly agreeing with such foolishness. Chaldrin said naught, yet was the large, dark male already of the opinion that I required his presence. Mehrayn considered Wedin’s words with faint surprise, plainly about to add his own agreement, therefore did I hasten to air more reasonable views.

“A war leader of the Midanna requires no others to guard her!” I snapped, glaring about at males and warriors alike, unthinkingly pulling at the leather which continued to hold me. “To allow others to stand for one is the act of a coward, a thing warriors, at least, should be aware of! Jalav shall guard herself as ever she has done, facing her enemies in her own shadow, and now does she demand to be released!”

“Ever does Jalav make demands upon one point or another,” said Mehrayn, thick annoyance having come to him, his shadow-form still crouched before me. “So enmeshed is she in the doings of the gods, that the doings of men have become of less importance to her than ever. To guard one at the behest of the gods brings no dishonor upon that one, wench, no more than the desired safety given them. Such safety will be given Jalav, for in her foolishness such guarding has become necessary. Kneel silently, wench, and obey the man to whom the gods have given you.”

Great anger wished to bring forth further words from my throat, yet the male had presumed upon the foolishness of the gods and I was unable to deny his command. I knelt in seething rage before him, no longer permitted to discuss the false understanding of those who stood about me, and then the male straightened and moved to stand behind me. Carefully did the edge of his sword touch the leather which bound me, its keenness slicing quickly through the coils, and when all of it had fallen away, his hand came to my arm to raise me to my feet.

“No,” said he, halting my fingers they began to unknot the leather upon my throat. “As Jalav pays so little heed to where she strolls, she is clearly in need of some form of guidance. You will remain close beside me till I release you, wench, for I strongly feel that the gods wish you to be well schooled in the consequences of folly. Perhaps when you are once again unbound, you will give greater thought to retaining that freedom.”

Approval was strong in the manner of those others who stood about, unbelievably even in those who called themselves Midanna. Mehrayn took up the leather lead in his free hand, paying no mind to the soundless fury he was doubtless able to see upon me, and turned to the balance of our set.

“Let us merely put out their fire,” said he, looking about at the unmoving forms in the clearing. “The beasts of the forest will see to the disposal of their carcasses, a disposition which is more than fitting for such as these.”

Murmurs of agreement came only from the males as they and my warriors turned to give their attention to the leaping flames, and Mehrayn’s glance touched me briefly.

“Indeed does your lady continue to watch over you,” he murmured, coiling the end of the leather he held. “Had S’Heernoh not seen you being taken and spoken of it immediately, you would now be held more closely by agony than this leather holds you. We paused no longer than to take up swords before we came, therefore do we all seem more prepared for pleasure than battle. I give thanks to Sigurr that your wenches have no more need to cover themselves than do we.”

By then was the fire nearly smothered and quenched by the dirt thrown up from the ground and the contents of the drinking skins which had been found among the possessions of the gray-clad males, therefore was Mehrayn unable to see my look of derision. No other than city slave-women would find it necessary to first cover their bodies before going gladly to battle, and the Midanna were far from so low a place. Had Mehrayn had a true understanding of warriors, never would he have shown surprise over so obvious a point.

When even the embers no longer glowed in the fire, we left the clearing to return to our own camp. Though the others ringed us with swords held ready, Mehrayn held me close beside him by the lead he had wrapped about his free hand, taking me about as though I had no volition of my own. The seething within me was cooled not at all by the swim across the stream, for although Mehrayn was faced with the need to hold his sword up while he swam, he did not choose to relinquish his hold upon the leather. Both were held in his left hand as he swam with his right, and my mood was foul indeed when we climbed from the stream to be greeted by a smiling S’Heernoh.

“How pleased I am to see that you all return in safety,” he exclaimed, grinning about in greatly relieved welcome. “The kirol is already upon the fire, therefore may you all take your ease the while it cooks, regathering your strength and drying your hides.” He chuckled well at the delight shown by Summa, Hitta and Sigurri, then did he turn to me when they had taken themselves toward the coverings and weapons they had left behind. “I am most gratified to find that you are unharmed, war leader,” said he, looking with amusement upon the leather held by Mehrayn. “To see your health and beauty undiminished gladdens my heart.”

I spoke no word to the male for I had been bidden to silence, yet surely was he able to see to how small an extent I shared his amusement. I held his gaze till discomfort began to touch him, a thing which Mehrayn was able to see.

“Had I not demanded silence from her, she would surely give you gracious thanks for your timely warning, S’Heernoh, ” said Sigurr’s Sword, the words smooth despite the shadow of annoyance to be heard behind them. “I have decreed punishment for her for her carelessness, from which she will learn or face additional punishment. You have, of course, my own thanks as well.”

“The pleasure was mine, Prince,” said S’Heernoh with a gesture of dismissal, a faint smile now touching him. “If you will excuse me, I must see to the kirol.”

His bow to me was wryly formal, odd in its execution, as odd as the male himself. The moment he turned away Mehrayn also took himself off, and I, perforce, followed after. When we reached the covered pelt he took his sleep upon, Mehrayn gestured curtly toward it.

“Put yourself there, wench, belly down and cheek to the fur,” said he, his voice held low to keep the growl of anger from reaching the ears of others. “You behave as a child would, sullenly ungrateful to the man who deserves your thanks, the while you sulk from the punishment you so eagerly sought with your own actions. Much do I feel the urge to cut a switch with which to see to you, and should there be any further difficulty from you this darkness, I shall surely do so.”

He watched as I placed myself upon the pelt as he had commanded, then did he turn from me and walk to his body cloth and swordbelt, anger continuing to turn his movements brusque and stiff. I, too, was filled with anger, for the male was a fool in all he said. Most certainly would I have given S’Heernoh thanks for his assistance had I been able, and that despite the fact of his amusement over the indignity termed “punishment” imposed upon me by Mehrayn. It was Mehrayn with whom I felt anger, for the male had no right to do as he did, despite the fact that the gods had granted him possession of me. Such possession was complete foolishness, for nearly had it been ended by the actions of the gray-clad males. Had they done as they had intended, his possession would have been shown as the mockery it was.

I turned my head away from the fire, settling my left cheek to the pelt cloth, unable to find comfort through the twistings of my anger, and then all thoughts of anger and discomfort were gone, smothered beneath the sudden realization which took me. Mehrayn had spoken of my capture as carelessness, yet was Jalav seldom guilty of such a thing when she rode or walked the forests alone. Those who approached the forests with carelessness rarely survived them, a thing which all Midanna knew. That I had been lost in thought was true, and yet the reason for my having been taken so deeply into myself did not now seem as easily discernible as I had at first thought. Well was it possible that my senses had been turned inward and kept so, to ensure the capture which waited hidden from easy sight. Was this supposition true, the brevity of my capture in no manner indicated a jocular, light-hearted intent, for there was considerably more to the matter, which apparently only I now knew of.

I shifted about upon the cloth-covered pelt, moving my wet hair away from my back, briefly annoyed that the leather lead might not be removed, attempting to warm the chill of my thoughts with renewed anger. No other than Mida had the ability to befuddle my mind to such an extent that I became unaware of the doings about me, therefore had my capture clearly been the wish of the goddess. Had the assistance sent me been even a pair of reckid longer in the coming, my flesh would have held the marks of males, deeply cut with much pain and loss of blood, marks which well might have remained even had I been healed. That the marks would have been the strokes called letters by males clearly confirmed my suppositions, for the letters would have been those named em and cee, em for Mondolain and cee for Clomain and Cludain. That they were also for Mehrayn and Ceralt spoke of Mida’s awareness of my recent thoughts, of her anger with me, of the warning she now sent. That the warning was a final one I had no doubt, and I shuddered to consider what my punishment would be if I transgressed again. To be marked with the strokes which stood for the males I would keep from Mida could easily have been my punishment, said the warning, for no war leader, no matter how thickly filled with pride, might think to challenge a goddess. Were I unable to send the males from my thoughts and consider no more than the duty I owed to she who held my life vow, I would, in some deeply unpleasant manner, bear full memory of them for the rest of my feyd. The males would be Mida’s at any time she wished to take them, and naught I might foolishly think to do would halt that intent.

“Jalav, you tremble,” came Mehrayn’s voice from close behind me, and then was his hand warm upon my arm. “Do not allow the thought of what was nearly done to you to bring you upset, wench. No man or beast will bring harm to you while I live.”

I turned upon the fur to see him where he knelt beside me, a dark shape in the sultry warmth of the darkness, then quickly rose to my own knees so that I might hold him about with all the strength in my arms. His own arms closed about me and held me as tightly as I held him, and had I not been a war leader of Midanna I would surely have wept with the loss which was to be mine. First Ceralt and now Mehrayn, for Jalav was to have no males; Jalav was to do no more than ride at Mida’s command. So warm and strong was the body I held to, so familiar was the male smell of him—and so soon would he be taken from me. A fool was the male, as unreasoning and willing to give humiliation to a warrior as all males, yet would memory of him indeed remain with me for the rest of my feyd. That was the punishment I had been given, the agony of memory; beside it, Mehrayn’s foolish efforts faded to naught. I closed my eyes in the circle of his arms, throbbing with the agony, knowing it was destined to be mine forever.