The Will of the Gods

9 The enemy clans—and trials to be faced

“It would perhaps be best if we halted now to take our mid-fey meal,” said Wedin, wiping at the moisture which beaded her brow despite the cool of numberless leaves above us. “The visiting place is not many reckid ahead, and another opportunity might well be disallowed us by the outlying sentries.”

“You may well be correct,” said I, pulling my kan to a halt beside hers. Her gaze moved no place save with the forests all about us, as did mine, yet was I well aware of the location of her true concern. Mehrayn rode with Chaldrin behind us, and he whom she called brother was in considerable distress, as he had been since the beginning of that fey’s journey. With the new light I had seen him receive the punishment I had decreed for him, the punishment for insolence which he more than merited.

“I, too, would be pleased with a brief halt,” said Dotil, freeing sweat-soaked strands of hair from her back. She sat her kan to the far side of Wedin, and looked upon me past her sister Summa. “Never do I recall the heat being this oppressive during a visiting,” said she. “More often is it cool and pleasant, allowing one to take joy in the time.”

“Perhaps Mida feels that this overcast heat will in some manner aid us,” said I with a shrug. “Very well, let us dismount till we have taken our meal.”

The two Summa dismounted quickly, yet did a glance back show that Mehrayn had acted with even greater speed. Chaldrin looked upon him covertly with much sympathetic feeling in his dark eyes, yet when that gaze came to me it contained a good deal of reproach. No words were spoken by Chaldrin, yet did he look upon me with accusation, for having commanded what I had, and for having commanded his own involvement. Early that fey I had had Mehrayn cut and trim a switch, then had I had Chaldrin beat him, in the manner that Mehrayn had last beaten me. The dark-haired male had not stinted on the strength of his blows, and then had it been necessary for Mehrayn to place his punishment directly upon the back of his mount. The ride till then had been painful and humiliating for him, as evidenced by his flushed countenance and stiff, slow movements. It was to be hoped that the male had in some manner learned from the pain and humiliation, both in regard to the use of insolence and the giving of humiliation to others, yet was the hope faint and unlikely in the extreme. Males learned slowly, if at all, and Mehrayn was, without the slightest doubt, male.

Our provender, prepared by the males before the new light, was fed upon quickly and quietly, with little more than single words from the Summa and myself. The matrig was set out before us and we each fed upon what tempted us, yet despite the wish of the two warriors with me for the halt to feed, little tempted them. They each looked down upon their provender rather than consuming it, deeply lost within themselves, disturbed over the visiting place we neared. Again and again had Wedin attempted to suggest that I allow her and Dotil to approach the war leaders of the clans alone, the purpose being that they would strive to ease the way for my appearance, thereby perhaps avoiding what might well come to immediate death for me. That I had refused to hear such a suggestion gave both Summa great upset, yet there was naught else I might do. The task of uniting all the clans was mine, given me by Mida herself; were I to delegate the task to others, would the wrath of the goddess not then be assured? How might victory be found in such a circumstance, with Mida’s anger turning all to ashes? No, the task continued to be mine alone, no matter the near certainty of the reception I would receive.

“Your confidence is not as great as you would have us believe, is it, girl?” came the voice of Chaldrin, interrupting my thought. The male crouched close before me, speaking softly, unheard by any other save myself. Wedin and Dotil had gone to see to their kand, a departure I had not even been aware of.

“My task will be successfully completed,” I replied in a mutter, throwing from me the matrig I no longer wished. The grass I sat upon stuck to my thighs and legs, and much would I have joyed in the presence of a stream just then. “To believe otherwise would be to believe that Mida’s chosen has been poorly chosen indeed.”

“Your goddess’s chosen has triumphed before, yet not without pain and great difficulty,” said he, continuing to look upon me though I avoided his gaze. “Will you need to face and withstand such things again?”

“Was the uniting of enemies among the Midanna easily seen to, it would have been done much the sooner,” said I, giving him the sole answer I wished to give. Still was I loathe to meet his eyes, and this he understood as well as that which I had left unspoken.

“You feel there is an excellent chance you will not survive,” said he, a flatness of statement rather than a rising of question in his voice, his hand coming to turn my face toward him. “For that reason as well as another did you command what you did this fey, seeking to turn Mehrayn and myself uncaring as to your fate. Did you take us for unthinking children, that you attempted such a thing?”

It was surely the warmth of the fey which brought greater heat to my cheeks, accompanying a sense of dismay that the male had so easily seen my intentions. As Ceralt had once done, so had I attempted to do, yet Chaldrin had known of the thing without overhearing the words of truth. He looked directly upon me with something of anger in the dark of his eyes, then nodded his head.

“I see you did indeed consider us in so flattering a manner,” said he, his tone softly serious. “We were to greet the death of an unfeeling tyrant with great joy, then were we to return to our former lives with no further thought given to her, for we would have been avenged. I know not what Mehrayn means to give you for what has been done to him, yet do I know what you shall have from my hands when this task of yours has been seen to. I have given my word to stand beside you the while life remains to us, girl, but you may not brush aside my wishes as though they were unimportant. Perhaps best would be that you hope those savage wenches end you; do we both survive, you will find a suitable punishment for the thoughtless doings of an ‘unfeeling tyrant.’ ”

“You believe I have naught to think upon save the rantings of a male with wounded pride?” I asked, pushing his hand from my face with impatience. “Should you wish to be revenged upon me, Chaldrin, you must wait till many others have first taken their vengeance. As for the male Mehrayn, he may speak of his displeasure to she who has claimed him through his own efforts. I am not that one.”

“Sigurr’s Sword will speak of his displeasure with the one who brought it to him,” said Chaldrin, crouching close to prevent my rising from the grass. “We neither of us know the reason you continue to insist that he has been claimed by the goddess; we know only that it is he who means to claim you, no matter the difficulty he finds in the doing. His fury now rides so high that it is barely containable, and wise would you be, wench, to consider his wounded pride. He cares little for having been done in such a manner for the sake of uncalled-for jealousy. ”

I could only respond with puzzlement. Ever do males speak so, with their meaning well hidden, so that a warrior must feel continually at a loss.

“For what reason must you be so like other males, and do naught save babble?” I asked of Chaldrin, touched well with annoyance. “To understand the nonsense you speak, one must also be male which, thanks be to Mida, I am not.”

“You fail to avoid my gaze in guilt,” observed Chaldrin, his tone now musing. “Can it truly be that you, yourself, are unaware of the jealousy you feel?”

“How may one feel a thing one has no knowledge of!” I snapped, truly losing patience with the fool of a male. “What of that male’s am I this time accused of coveting?”

“Softly,” cautioned Chaldrin with a small gesture, disallowing his gaze to move about us. “We know not who might at this very moment be observing us, and for that reason do I rather than Mehrayn speak with you. We do not accuse you of coveting some ability of the Sword, but of coveting the man himself. We believe that had he used Dotil and given her no more than small pleasure, you would surely have found another punishment for him in place of that which he was given. The punishment was not for insolence, as you announced, but for daring to give another what was by right yours. It was for his full, anger-induced obedience for which he was humiliated so, obedience to a command which you, yourself, petulantly gave him. Only jealousy can account for it.”

Were I taking the male aright, it was his belief and that of Mehrayn that I wished Mehrayn for my own, and could not countenance his use by any other warrior. While it was indeed true that the use of the male was more than worth having, actual possession of him continued to be a matter which must be seen to with the sword of challenge. And had I wished his use to be mine rather than Dotil’s, surely I would have seen the matter done so with none to deny me. That I had succeeded in putting all thoughts of the male from me was beyond the belief of the two Sigurri, a thing which clearly showed they believed they looked upon a city slave-woman rather than a war leader of Midanna.

“I am to be of the opinion that there is a limit to the use of a male?” I asked, beginning to be taken by chuckling. “That once this limit has been reached, he may never again be used? That to allow his use by another warrior is to reach this limit sooner? That it would have pleased me more to have the male forsworn, doing other than that which he had been commanded to do? Truly do I regret not having known you sooner, brother. Your ability to bring me heart-lightening laughter is equalled by none I have ever met.”

“Do not think to put me off with forced amusement, wench,” snapped he. “I have told the Sword what I believe to be the truth, and once told, he believes as I do. You wish Mehrayn for your own, and no other thing save stubbornness keeps you from his side.”

“Indeed?” said I, continuing to chuckle as I rose to my feet despite Chaldrin’s nearness, “This is the truth you have seen and have shared with your brother male? Then perhaps you will be good enough to share an additional truth with him.” I leaned down to put my lips near to Chaldrin’s ear. “He who gave his vow to follow and obey me has not removed his body cloth as previously bidden. Although the omission was surely caused by his wish to keep hidden the humiliation which is his, he had nevertheless disobeyed me. You may inform him that there will be additional punishment for that disobedience.”

“You cannot seriously mean to anger him further!” hissed Chaldrin, rising from his crouch to look down upon me with painful disbelief. “No man would be so mindless as to do such a thing, yet you, wench, show not the slightest hesitation! The Sword will not be forsworn, yet afterward . . . . ”

“First there must be a beginning before there is an afterward,” said I, disallowing the balance of his words. “For now I am the war leader whom you follow and obey, therefore shall you be silent and see to the clearing away of that which is no longer desired by my warriors and myself. The end of our journey is before us, and I would reach it as soon as may be.”

Chaldrin drew himself up angrily, yet not a sound passed his lips. Much did he wish to speak further, I saw, yet had he been commanded to silence by she whom he followed. I held his gaze till he turned stiffly away to do my bidding, then smiled faintly as I took myself to where Wedin and Dotil stood awaiting me.

“He obeys with reluctance, yet does he obey,” observed Wedin, looking upon naught save my smile. “I give thanks to Mida that his word is able to hold him.”

“Most especially at this time,” said Dotil with a worried sigh. “We are now unable to offer you our assistance, Jalav, yet do we mean to continue to stand with you.”

“Best you stand well to one side with the males behind you,” said I, widening my smile in thanks to her. “As it is soon to begin, I would have you away from the path of danger, and the males firmly out from under foot.”

“The males do well ignoring the manner in which they are being observed,” said Dotil, glancing to where the two Sigurri saw to their tasks. “One would believe they were unaware of those who now surround us.”

“Dotil, my sister, they are no other thing than unaware,” said Wedin with a sigh. “Though they be true warriors, they are also males and naught of hunters. Mehrayn is able to follow a trail, the while Chaldrin is barely able to do even so much. They know naught of the warriors who now observe us, and will continue to know naught of them till those warriors step from cover.”

“And that despite the mention made by Chaldrin that we knew not who might now be observing us,” said I to a Dotil who attempted to swallow her stricken look. “Even then were the warriors moving to surround us, yet the male saw and heard naught of them. Do you doubt that they are as helpless as babes in the forests?”

“How might one doubt?” asked Dotil, again heaving a sigh. “The thing is so often made clear . . . What are we to do now, Jalav? Are we to be as the males and see naught?”

“And lose standing in the eyes of those who watch?” I asked, noting Wedin’s faint amusement. “Best we acknowledge their presence at once, showing we neither seek to hide ourselves nor fear to face them.”

“Never have I felt such reluctance to face sister Midanna,” muttered Dotil, straightening where she stood as her left palm caressed her sword hilt. “Also is it true that never before have I faced them with an enemy war leader beside me and two nearly uncontrolled male warriors behind, and yet—Ah, Mida! How truly fortunate is the warrior who is able to meet all which comes to her with no concern other than the sword she grasps!”

“How truly fortunate is she who is not the chosen of the goddess,” said Wedin, her hand to her life sign, a look of commiseration in her eyes. “I believe there are Summa among those who have found us, Jalav. Which of us is to address them?”

“You may do so, Wedin, after I have addressed the humble, obedient males who follow me,” said I, finding a sigh within me much like those which had touched Dotil. “Should they forget their vows, we are all done. Should they recall and hold to those vows, they are to be absolutely forbidden to come to my aid no matter the circumstances, no matter how greatly they sire it. I ask of you no other thing than that—and their safe removal from the visiting place, should I be unable to see to the matter my own self.”

“I will see to it, Jalav,” said Wedin, a sadness upon her and Dotil. Much did it seem that we all of us contemplated defeat rather than victory, therefore did I turn from them and walk a small number of steps toward the males. It is truly said that one often receives that which one most often expects, therefore is a warrior wise to keep her thoughts and anticipations with victory alone.

“You males!” I snapped, bringing the startled attention of Chaldrin and Mehrayn to me. “To your knees, and quickly, and do not rise again till bidden to it by a warrior!”

Much did I look upon them as I was wont to look upon those males who had, from time to time, followed me, that is to say, as a war leader upon an unarmed male who merely follows, himself commanding naught. The two continued to be held by startlement, yet did they both go to their knees as ordered. Had they not, I would likely have clubbed them down with my dagger hilt; this, I believe, they were able to see in my eyes, a thing which contributed much to their surprised lack of understanding. Once the males were as I wished them, I turned back to the Summa who accompanied me, folded my arms beneath my life sign, and nodded to Wedin. That warrior stepped forward with a faint smile, then addressed the trees and bushes all about us.

“We give you greetings, sisters,” said she, her voice raised so that it might be readily heard by those who had found us. “Come forth now in peace, for we bring one who rides in Mida’s name.”

Where one moment there was naught save the forests about us, the next moment brought sight of four hands of warriors, the colors of their clan coverings speaking of the clans to which they belonged. Beside the blue of Summa was the white of Sarra, the brown of Sedda, and the gold of Selga, two of the warriors of each clan with bow drawn and well aimed, the others with bared blades or firmly held spears. I made no attempt to change the stance I had taken, yet little approval was to be seen in the faces of those who had appeared. One stepped forward before the others, a Selga by her covering, hair and eyes fully as dark as mine, the coldness of anger in her movement.

“All here ride in the name of Mida,” said she to Wedin, a matching coldness in her tone, her gaze held firm to the stranger in their midst. “For what reason do Summa bring an interloper among us?”

“For the reason that Mida has sent her to us,” said Wedin, angered by the manner of the Selga, yet unwilling to allow her anger full rein. “This is Jalav, once war leader to the Hosta, now war leader to all of her clans. She comes to speak with us on behalf of Mida herself.”

“Indeed,” murmured the Selga, her cold gaze faintly warming, her visage lightening. “War leader to the Hosta and all of her clans, you say. This rain-filled visiting now promises amusement beyond all which have gone before.”

“She is a guest of the Summa, and therefore of the other clans as well!” snapped Wedin, taking a short step toward the other. “You cannot treat with her as though she were . . . ”

“An enemy?” demanded the Selga, taking her eyes from me at last to send matching anger to Wedin. “What other thing might the war leader of our enemies be? And in what manner might she be a guest of the Summa, when the Summa war leader has spoken naught upon the expectation of her arrival? When your war leader is asked of this one, Summa, what will be her reply?”

“Our war leader was not present when Jalav freed us from the capture of males!” said Dotil, speaking quickly when Wedin did not. Dark-haired Wedin stood with deep anger all through her, the restraining hand of Dotil upon her shoulder likely the sole thing holding her from giving challenge to the Selga. “Honor demands . . . .”

“You guide enemies to our place of visiting, and dare to speak of honor?” interrupted the Selga, hearing naught of Dotil’s opening words. Indeed did the Selga appear to be of the sort who heard naught save that which they wished to hear, the sort who self-importantly found naught save their own will in all matters. “What honor is there in turning one’s back upon sisters to speak in defense of enemies? To stand with enemies? To. . . .”

“None here save you name me enemy, Selga,” said I, and the dark eyes which blazed so at Wedin and Dotil quickly returned to me. “It is not as an enemy that I have come, yet would it be dishonorable to refuse a challenge earnestly given. Should the burning within you allow you no other recourse, I will, with the reluctance of a guest, face you.”

I continued to stand wide-legged as I had since just before their appearance, my arms folded below my life sign, hands well away from sword and dagger hilt, an indication that I meant to conduct our discussion without battle. The eyes of the Selga quickly took me in once again, fleetingly touching weapons, life sign, and a height greater than any other warrior there, and surely did memory return to her that I was war leader to not one clan but ten. No more than a brief moistening of lips did I see, enough to know that the Selga would not allow her enmity to be put aside by my blade, and then was the thought fully confirmed.

“The place is not ours to give challenge to one who claims to be no enemy when shafts and points surround her,” rasped the Selga, her fist closing even more tightly upon the hilt of the sword she held. “Our duty is to take in capture any who attempt to disturb the visiting, and this we have done. What follows must be at the bidding of our war leaders, who will issue or accept challenge of their own. Should they name you guest, Hosta, you will have words of apology from us; till then you are our captive.”

“Very well, then, let us take her before the war leaders,” said Wedin, anger still upon her, moving one step toward the Selga. “We agree that it must be they who unknot this tangle, therefore shall we seek them out at once.”

“Not quite at once,” said the Selga, turning her head from Wedin to eye me once again. “This captive must first be properly prepared, else shall the war leaders be greatly angered with us. A war leader of enemy Midanna must be treated with the respect due her rank.”

With a gesture did the Selga summon those warriors who stood behind me, who were quick to obey the one who spoke for them all. My arms did no more than begin to unfold, when my back felt the presence of a spear point parting my hair. Sharp was that spear point, and entirely unwavering, showing the readiness of the warrior who held it to plunge it speedily through me. Before I was able to do more than consider the only-just-learned response of whirling away and striking aside the spear taught me by Chaldrin, four warriors had taken my arms, thrust me to my knees, and held my wrists behind me for immediate binding by a fifth. Truly had Chaldrin been correct when he had said that to hesitate at the onset of attack is to give victory to one’s opponents! One must indeed enter into unarmed battle without thought, merely responding to that which is done, leaving thought for activities of leisure! My hesitation had cost me my freedom, a thing I had not intended giving up before facing the assembled war leaders. A bound captive is seldom listened to with the attentiveness given an armed, unbound warrior, a thing the grimly pleased Selga was aware of.

With the leather knotted tightly about my wrists and a thong tied between my ankles, I was pulled from my knees to stand upright once more. The hand of Summa warriors had taken no part in my binding, for they had been fully engrossed in keeping Wedin and Dotil from coming to my aid. Stern whispers of admonishment would have done little to keep my two new sisters from my side, yet had they also been held by unyielding grips and had had their swords taken. I looked upon the Selga who now approached me, with the fury I felt so strongly, yet was she uncaring of the fury of one who stood in her capture. With her own sword sheathed she reached to my swordbelt and removed it, then bent to take the dagger from my leg bands.

“Considerably more proper,” said she as she straightened, something of a smile for my anger. “Where are your clan colors, war leader of the Hosta? Have you forsaken them and the sisters who followed you, for the greater glory of leadership of all of your clans? How pleased those warriors must be, to follow one who forsakes her own in order to achieve personal advancement.”

“Do not speak upon matters you have no knowledge of, Selga,” I growled, looking down upon her as my arms tested the strength of the leather which bound me. “The Hosta were no more abandoned by me than were my clan colors, nor has my position aught to do with personal advancement. When Mida speaks, a Midanna can only obey.”

“Ah, I see,” said she, nodding solemnly as she looked up into my eyes. “It was Mida herself who demanded that you abandon your own and seek greater glory. Upon occasion have one or two among our own clans put forth such an insistence, yet were we able, despite their protests, to see the truth behind such doings and speech. Mida willing, our war leaders will see the same again. To whom do those males belong?”

Her eyes went past me, and when I turned I, too, saw the males I had nearly forgotten. Both Chaldrin and Mehrayn remained upon their knees, four warriors just beyond them, two with bows, two with spears. Well aware of those warriors were the males, and perhaps for that reason was there no indication about them that they considered the disobedience of interference. The look of the Selga had contained considerable interest, as did the gazes of each warrior who was unconcerned enough with other matters to look upon them, and this, too, were the males aware of. Much did it seem that the interest they drew did more than the presence of ready weapons to bring about an earnest attempt at self-effacement by the two, and this estimation was able to bring a faint smile to my lips despite the sobriety of the balance of the happenings about me.

“Those males follow a war leader,” said I, making certain my tone contained the disdain it should. “They are unschooled in the proper manner of behavior among the clans for I have but recently given them let to follow me, yet do I believe them possessed of just sufficient intelligence to learn their place quickly. In the absence of my commands, they will obey Wedin and Dotil.”

“They will learn to obey whatever warrior commands them,” said the Selga with a sound of her own disdain, drawing the eyes of the males from me. For an instant did the two Sigurri allow rebellion to show in those eyes at her words, a thing which brought amusement to all who looked upon them and approval to the Selga. “It pleases me to see that they are spirited,” said she, nodding somewhat at the stubbornness the males attempted unsuccessfully to mask. “Taking the fire from a foolish male brings half the pleasure to be had from one. Bring them along as well.”

Spears urged Chaldrin and Mehrayn to their feet, matching touches to the one which was given me by the Sedda behind me. I turned my attention from the hum of approval which arose at sight of the full size of the two males, and gave it to the chore of walking without destroying what little balance was left me by the leather thong tied between my ankles. The Selga led the way from our halting place, two Sarra saw to our kand, and Wedin and Dotil were kept by their sister Summa well away from the bound interloper in their midst.

The walk to where the tents had been erected for the visiting was longer and more difficult by cause of the leather upon me, the effort I was forced to bringing a heavy sheen of sweat to my body even before we passed the lone abandoned wooden dwelling which stood not far from where the Summa, the males, and I had halted. The dwelling seemed odd where it stood surrounded by naught save the forests, yet was the sight of it also familiar from those few similar sights to be found upon the lands claimed by my own clans. From time to time did city males attempt to take for their own the seemingly unused lands of Midanna warriors, their intention being to kill the forests which fed us all, and put in its place those lines of plantings which fed no more than those of the cities. Herds of tame beasts were also meant to be run by these males, beasts which tasted of the unending captivity which was theirs. In no manner would Midanna allow the forests to be destroyed by those of the cities, therefore were the males removed from our lands as quickly as they were found. Some few found the time to first erect a dwelling, yet were they ever denied the time to become accustomed to that dwelling.

At last did the forests open upon a large meadow, one which contained the tents of those who had come to the visiting. Beneath the lowering dark skies which seemed to press down the heat upon all beneath them were the colored visiting tents of Midanna, the white of the Sarra, the orange of the Samma, the violet of the Sarda, the brown of the Sedda, the yellow of the Sonna, the gold of the Selga, the rose of the Sidda, the blue of the Summa, and the green of the Simma. Only the red of the Silla was not to be found, just as the green of the Hosta would be absent from a visiting of my own clans, and thought of the Hosta was again an illness within me. Perhaps, were the clans unable to ride to their rescue, Mida would take pity upon those who once rode in her name, and allow them the freedom of death.

The inner ring of tents were those of the war leaders, surrounding a large open space in the midst of which stood the tent of the Keeper of their clans, a tent which comprised all the colors of all the clans of their grouping. Rilas, Keeper of our own clans of Midanna, had told me of the choosing of a new Keeper for the enemy clans, one who had not long before been a warrior. Ennat, who had been of the Sidda, was not known to me, and the sight of her tent brought apprehension. The war leaders of the nine visiting clans would be within that tent, for the Selga who led us took no other place as her destination. Eager was the Selga to reach that destination, and at her command was the spear point applied even more vigorously to my back, so that my steps, too, would be hastened. The touch of sharpened metal in my flesh was no sensation of pleasure, and bound and disarmed as I was, my capture could not be denied—yet was I not of a mind to be hurried as though I were captive male or city slave-woman. Despite the abrupt presence of moisture other than sweat upon my back, my pace remained as it had been, filled with some modicum of dignity. The Selga looked upon me with fury in her eyes, her lips moved briefly without sound, and then did she turn and run on ahead, unable to wait longer to speak the news she brought.

By the time the captive had been prodded before them, the nine war leaders of the clans had emerged to stand without the tent they had so recently sat within. Warriors in ever increasing numbers appeared as well, all staring curiously upon the odd sight of the seeming Midanna who wore no clan colors, she who moved bound through their ranks as though the saw them not. Indeed was I able to give attention to none save the nine war leaders who awaited me with grim anticipation. True warriors of Mida were these war leaders, each with her life sign swinging between her breasts, each with sword at her side, each with dagger in her leg bands, each with her clan colors secure about her hips. I halted and began to regard them as they regarded me, war leader to war leader, yet a gesture from the Selga who had summoned them from the tent ended my effort. Hands took my arms and hair and forced me to my knees, and a spear butt upon the leather stretched between my ankles kept me so.

“She seems rather insolent for a captive,” observed the Selga war leader to her warrior, looking down upon me where I struggled in fury to rise again. “And she is said to be war leader to the Hosta and the others of her clans as well?”

“She is without doubt war leader to the Hosta,” said another voice, one I knew. I turned my head and looked up into the gray eyes of Ludir, war leader to the Simma. Green was the clan color of the Simma, a green different from Hosta green, and much red blood had been spilled in the battles between the wearers of those two greens. Once, not long after I had taken the second silver ring of a war leader, Ludir and I had met in battle. The broad scar across her middle was her remembrance of that battle, and the gray of her eyes glittered as her left hand stroked that scar.

“I, too, know Jalav of the Hosta,” said another voice, a strong voice unknown to me. From behind the war leaders stepped one who wore the long, many colored clan coverings of a Keeper, one whose light brown hair was unlined with gray, one whose dark brown eyes looked down upon me from a height which was surely even greater than my own. Ennat the Keeper was far from the age of Rilas, yet was there respect in the eyes of the war leaders who looked upon her.

“I will be the one to face her,” said Ludir to Ennat, sending no more than a glance to the Keeper before resuming her stare at me. “You are no longer a warrior, Ennat, and therefore no longer permitted the use of a sword. I have learned much in the kalod since last we met, and this I am eager to show the Hosta trash.”

“For what reason do you believe we will allow her the death of a warrior, Ludir?” asked another, she who wore Sonna yellow. Renin was the name of the war leader who led the Sonna, a warrior of repute, one who had met every challenge in a hand of kalod. Pleased anticipation gleamed from the light eyes of Renin, anticipation of other than the witnessing of a battle to the death. “Enemies captured while sneaking about are seldom accorded the treatment of warriors,” said she. “Most often are they put to death with the shame they, themselves, have indicated they deserve.”

“I have neither come with stealth, nor have I simply been captured!” I snapped at Renin, stiffening with the insult I had been given. “I have come to speak with war leaders of Mida, ones who do not fear the word I bring. Should all present prove to have naught save the courage of Renin, however, best would undoubtedly be that I be ended upon the instant.”

A mutter of outraged anger rose to match the outraged insult taking Renin, and those who stood about above me closed somewhat with the object of their anger. So close were those warriors and war leaders, some with hands to hilts; I struggled furiously to free myself of the leather which bound me, too angry to countenance the thought of being put to death without striking all about me and taking as many as possible of those who attacked with me. The leather bit into the flesh of my wrists as I struggled, adding to my fury with its refusal to part, and then was my head snapped painfully back by the fistful of hair taken by Ennat.

“Your youth is little excuse for such foolishness, Jalav of the Hosta,” said she, her voice and eyes free of the anger which gripped those others who stood with her. “No matter the manner of your capture, you are no other thing than captive to us, one who may indeed be ended by our slightest whim. One who kneels bound before her enemies may not give insult so freely, for there are many things other than death which she may be given in return. For what reason have you come here, then, if not to learn what you might for those who follow you? What word might you speak to those who have interest only in spilling your blood?”

The strength of her grip upon my hair did not lessen, nor was I able to lower my head to ease the ache in my neck. She who was now Keeper to the enemy clans held me as though I were a warrior-to-be, caught in a disobedience which would not be overlooked. My lips drew back in a silent snarl as I met her gaze, and faint amusement turned the corners of her mouth.

“Yes, I am aware of the fact that Keepers do not demand answers from war leaders,” said she, not loosening her grip. “I, however, am newly come to the glory of being Keeper, and you do not stand as war leader among us. It is for those reasons that I ask you to indulge me in my harmless fancy, and ask also that you reply to the queries I have put to you. In such a manner shall we all learn, and that without the necessity for spilling blood. Come, Jalav of the Hosta; it cannot be that you fear to speak?”

The increase in her amusement was clear as was the lessening of the anger in those to whom she was Keeper. No longer did many hands curl about sword hilts, no longer was there the rumble of outrage; my anger, too, seemed less than it had been, and that despite the manner in which I continued to be held. No sisterly feeling arose within me toward Ennat the Keeper, yet was there the very beginning of respect.

“Indeed do I feel fear, Ennat,” I husked, unable to speak clearly through so tautened a throat. “I fear that the word I bring from Mida will go unheeded, and then shall the anger of the goddess fall upon those who refuse to give ear to her messenger. I have seen the results of the goddess’s anger, and truly does the memory bring me fear.”

“You claim to bring the word of Mida?” said Ennat, her amusement gone more quickly than it had come. A long moment did she stand and stare upon me, and then did she release me and turn to the others. “I ask that you allow the Hosta to speak before us, war leaders,” said she, no hint of demand to her tone. “The doing will cause little harm, for she may be put to death at any time.”

“The sooner that, the greater my pleasure,” muttered Renin coldly though she did not deny Ennat’s request. A small number of the others nodded reluctantly, the respect they held for their Keeper eliciting grudging agreement, and slowly did they all reach the same position.

“I dislike her insolence, yet shall I be attentive to the words she speaks,” said the Selga war leader, shaking back the brown hair which sought to curl about her arms. “It will be my pleasure to point up the falsehoods in them, to allow us the sooner to begin our discussion upon her fate. That discussion, too, will be short, yet not so her ending.”

“Best we take this matter within my tent,” said Ennat through the murmur of agreement which rose at the words of the Selga, the Keeper’s eyes studying the thick gray which rode the skies above us. “Already do I feel the first drops of Mida’s continuing tears, and surely have we been blessed enough this visiting. It would also please me to return to my daru.”

At the Keeper’s gesture my arms were taken so that I might be pulled to my feet, yet was our entrance into the tent halted by the words of the Selga warrior who had come first to announce my presence. Full confident was that warrior that the difficulty I presented would quickly be seen to, therefore was she now eager to see her own interests served.

“War leaders, what of the males who follow her?” she asked, as if she had just recalled the presence of those males. “Are they to accompany her into the Keeper’s tent, or am I to see to their disposition?”

“There is no need of additional males in the tent,” replied the Selga war leader with some annoyance, quickly gesturing aside the question. “You may do with them as you please, for the Hosta is unlikely to require further use of males.”

The Selga warrior, pleased with the prospect of seeing to the new males, began to turn again toward the two Sigurri, who had stiffened with the knowledge that they would no longer be allowed to accompany me. No sound nor difficulty had come from them till that moment, and that despite the fact that Wedin and Dotil had been taken elsewhere and had not returned; the decision as to their disposition was not difficult to make, nor did I hesitate in the voicing of it.

“Selga,” I called, halting her before she again faced the males she was so eager to see to. “For the moment you may have my males, yet would you do well to recall that I shall examine them closely when I come to reclaim them. Should I find aught amiss there will be a reckoning between us, one in which you will not be fortunate enough to find an ending. And yet, should it truly be your wish to see properly to them, there is a thing which must be done. He of the red hair was in a small way disobedient, yet did I lack the time to see to his punishment. As he is now in your possession, you may see to the thing for me.”

A ripple of amusement at Mehrayn’s suddenly reddened scowl sounded from those warriors who looked on, clearly an appreciation that having been taken captive had not turned me unaware of that which was necessary. To allow a male to go unpunished when he has earned it, will too often encourage the male to repeat his offense. My action had shown him that he might not do as he pleased among Midanna, and nods of approval came even from certain of the war leaders who stood about. The male himself showed little approval, nor did Chaldrin, yet were they turned away from where they stood and urged elsewhere with spears before they might do more than cast dark glances upon the war leader they followed. The Selga who followed them also looked briefly upon that war leader, yet was her glance more thoughtful than those others which had touched me. She had realized that a vow had been given her, and such a thing is never taken lightly by a Midanna.

With the small distraction seen to, the nine war leaders and Ennat entered the Keeper’s tent, their captive held where she stood till her captors had gone before. The tears of Mida had begun to thicken before I was thrust after, to enter the many-colored tent behind those who had already returned to the places they had so abruptly left. The clean black leather of the tent floor was true pleasure to the bottoms of my feet, recalling to me a happier time with my own clan, a time before it had been necessary to ride the lands of males and seek out those who joyed in the thought of spilling my blood. The aroma of brewed daru filled the confines of the large, candle-lit tent with its full-flavored beckoning, curling about me and also luring me down paths of sweet memory. How often I had had daru in the tent of Rilas, Keeper of our clans, downing pot after pot the while we spoke of—

” Hosta.” The single word, evenly spoken, returned me to the tent of Ennat, to again find myself bound before those who had no wish to call me sister, to see those who would decide my fate seated upon the black leather, to look up at me where I stood. Pots of brewed daru did they hold, with some number of males seated a distance behind, near the fire, to serve the drink; Ennat alone stood as I did, her eyes upon me, the single word she had spoken hanging between us. When she gestured to those warriors who stood beside and behind me, I was again forced to my knees, and then did Ennat take her own seat upon the leather.

“Again must you be reminded that you stand before us as other than a war leader,” said Ennat, evenly. “No more than captive are you, Jalav of the Hosta, and best would be that you recall the fact.”

“Jalav has been captive many times since Mida called,” said I, looking upon Ennat as she looked upon me. “No matter the number of times, however, Jalav has ever remained a war leader, a state whose glory may be taken by no other thing than a sword. There are those about you who are able to explain to you the truth I speak, Ennat.”

Little liking for my words did it seem the Keeper had despite the expressionlessness she held to, yet did many of the war leaders chuckle and look upon Ennat in amusement. No war leader had Ennat been but a warrior, and none may know the fullness of war leadership without having herself slain for and taken the second silver ring.

“Jalav continues in her insolence,” said the Selga war leader, sipping from her pot of daru the while her eyes continued to hold to me. “Should this be all Jalav has come to put before us, we would be wise to begin at once a discussion of her permanent disposition.”

“Indeed,” said Renin of the Sonna, the yellow of her clan colors bright in the dimness of the tent. “I would see to this great Hosta war leader before what little courage I have fails me.”

“My courage has not diminished from what it was,” said Ludir of the Simna, smiling somewhat at the words of Renin. “I will face this Hosta as once I did, and this time will her blood alone pool upon the ground.”

“Sisters,” said Ennat, her tone as calm and soothing as her smile. “Well do I know how eager you are to see to this interloper in our midst, yet has she been put to her knees before you and been bound at your pleasure. Though all Midanna serve Mida, a Keeper’s service is somewhat nearer to the mother of us all, and I would hear what words the Hosta claims to bring from the goddess. Should we hear that which is patently untrue, you may then silence her in a fitting manner.” In the grudging silence which followed, Ennat turned to me. “Speak, Jalav of the Hosta,” said she, looking deeply into my eyes. “Should it truly be Mida who has sent you you must cause us to know it without doubt.”

The leather upon my wrists bit again into my flesh, the pain alone telling of my attempt to part my bonds. All those about me listened for what words I would speak, yet what weight would they have coming from one who was so clearly no more than a captive? Much did it seem, and scarcely for the first time, that defeat rather than victory was the goal of she who had caused me to be placed in such a state, yet thoughts of that sort were clearly foolishness. Only my success would bring Mida the force she required to meet the strangers, and such a force was desired by her above all else. As it was necessary to speak my tale from my knees I would do so, yet would there be a reckoning with certain of those war leaders in the tent before I allowed them to follow me.

“The matter begins with the Crystals of Mida,” said I, seeing the quick surprise Ennat showed. “As all here know, the Silla were given the honor of guarding one, the Hosta the second. When my warriors in the Tower of the Crystal were slain and our Crystal stolen, the Hosta rode out to recover what was theirs and capture those who were responsible for desecration and slaughter. In such a manner did I first begin my travels through the lands of males, to return to her Midanna that which was Mida’s.”

No sound interrupted my narrative, therefore did I continue on through the balance of it, speaking briefly upon each point and as little as possible upon the shame which had been given me in the service to which I was bound. At times were the males gestured to those war leaders who wished more of the daru, yet were the actions done quietly, without an intent toward interruption. My knees began to ache through the telling, and my wrists and arms as well, the sweat poured from my legs which were covered by my hair, and my back flared in pain from the leavings of the spear point which had touched me; nevertheless did I continue on, and at last came to an end. Deep, thoughtful silence held each of those who had listened, and it was not unexpected when Ennat came to speak first.

“And it was in the city of these males you called to battle that Mida last walked your dreams?” she asked, a great disturbance upon her. “For what reason would the goddess choose an enemy to lead us? For what reason would the glory not be given to one of our own?”

“Perhaps for the reason that we are beloved enough to be spared such glory,” said the Summa war leader, she who was called Faris. As light-haired and light-eyed as Dotil was she, and well pleased had she seemed when I had spoken of the capture of Dotil and Wedin as having been demanded by Mida so that I might be guided to their visiting place. “To have one’s entire clan taken by males so that one might lead one’s sisters unchallenged, to be given, time and again, into the capture of males to do Mida’s bidding, to appear before one’s blood enemies and say they must follow and not slay—No, Ennat, such glory is beyond my appetites. Might there be any here who see the matter differently?”

Faris looked upon the others as she spoke, her words in no manner a challenge, therefore were they accepted without insult; however, agreement became another matter entirely.

“Should one accept the Hosta’s tale as it was spoken, no,” said the Selga war leader, her tone full thoughtful, her eyes upon Faris. “One must recall, however, that a particular presentation of an event may not necessarily be a totally correct or properly interpreted presentation. As we none of us were present at these events, how may we be certain of those things we are asked to judge’?”

“You feel uncertain as to the disappearance of the Crystal guarded by the Silla, or perhaps upon the disappearance of the Silla themselves?” asked Faris with a sound of faint disdain, returning the Selga look for look. “As we have discussed little else this visiting, Kalir, I trust you will forgive my lack of understanding of your skepticism.”

“My skepticism is easily explained, Faris,” returned the Selga Kalir, with a faint smile. “We have been told that the Crystal of the Hosta was stolen, the Hosta rode out to effect its return, and then was it discovered that the Silla had given their Crystal in trade for males to serve them. The culmination of this entire affair is the possession by males of not only all of Mida’s Crystals, but of the Hosta and Silla as well. For what reason might we not suppose that it was the Silla’s Crystal which was stolen, the Hosta’s Crystal which was given in trade, and the Silla war leader who was meant to lead us? Perhaps it is the Hosta who are held captive through Mida’s anger, and the Silla who serve the goddess through required torment, their war leader Zolin now riding in the name of Mida, this Jalav doing no more than attempting to usurp her place and mislead those who would follow her. How are we to know, save that we await the return of Zolin?”

Faris the Summa hesitated before the foolishness spoken by the Selga, unable to say, of her own knowledge, that such a supposition was false. My throat would have done well with a swallow or two of daru after the length of the tale I had related, yet did I have sufficient spittle remaining to make a sound of derision of my own, one heard easily above the patter of rain from without.

“Should it be your intention to await the return of Zolin,” said I to the Selga Kalir, “best would be that you provision yourself extremely well. Zolin now dwells with Mida in her Blessed Realm, undoubtedly reaping the rewards of her actions in regard to the Crystal which was her sacred trust. Zolin thought to best Jalav in the city of the males who had tainted Zolin’s soul, yet did Zolin discover that Jalav stands behind Mida’s shield. Had it been Zolin who stood in the right, surely would it have been Jalav who fell.”

“A fair rebuttal,” said Faris to Kalir, somewhat amused at the Selga’s annoyance. “Are we to believe that Mida would have allowed Zolin to be bested had Zolin been her chosen? The shield of Mida is all, with no mere mortal able to broach it.”

“Granted,” said Kalir with continuing annoyance, rising to her feet to walk to where the males sat beside the brewing daru. One of the males rose to take her pot and see to its refilling, though Kalir seemed unaware. Her thoughts remained with the disagreement she wished to muster, and quickly was she prepared to speak further.

“I will, of course, grant the truth regarding Mida’s shield,” said she, taking her refilled pot with the same inattention she had surrendered it. “However, we have the word of none save the Hosta that Zolin has been bested. Well might it be that Zolin rides toward us this very moment.”

“Indeed may it well be so,” said Faris, looking to the Selga where she stood before the males. “However, the possibility also remains that Zolin has indeed been slain. Were we to choose to await what the new fey will bring, or perhaps the following fey or the one beyond that, we may well discover that it is Mida’s anger which is brought. To sit about doing naught may well prove the doing of fools.”

“Do you propose, then, that we follow the Hosta?” demanded Kalir angrily. “We are to unquestioningly accept the word of one who has ever been an enemy to us, stumbling in our haste to obey, asking no single question upon her right to command us? This, you believe, would not be a doing of fools?”

Tight-lipped did Faris look upon Kalir, unable to answer so pertinent an objection, a disturbed muttering from the others who sat there, flowing about the stiffened forms of the two who engaged in verbal battle. With some small effort did I shift where I knelt, attempting to ease the discomfort and pain which held me, attempting to search out the words which would cause these Midanna to find belief in my task. What words might be spoken had little difficulty eluding me, and then were there words from one who had for some time remained silent.

” To be the chosen of Mida is a blessing, for Mida protects her own,” said Ennat, her eyes directly upon me, her voice again calm. “To have the shield of Mida before one is to have all, for none may prevail over one who is so protected. To prove the point, one need only submit to testing, for in no other manner might such a contention be shown as truth. With Mida’s aid, no challenge will prove too difficult to best. ”

“How wise you are, Ennat!” cried Kafir the Selga with a laugh. “From her own tale has the Hosta faced testing a number of times before this, and clearly was it indicated that she triumphed. Now is it given to Midanna to see to her testing, to prove her truly worthy of Mida’s favor.”

“How eager you seem to prove her worthy, Kalir,” said Faris, her tone having gone dry, her pot of daru held negligently in her hand. “It cannot be that you contemplate more than a test to prove worth, more than one might reasonably be expected to endure. Midanna are strong, and Mida’s chosen must be strongest of all, yet must it also be recalled that she is merely chosen, not Mida herself.”

“Yet must it be proven that she is indeed strong beyond the strength of Midanna,” said Renin the Sonna, rising to stand beside Kalir. “Should her tale be true and we are indeed meant to follow her, there must be no least feeling of doubt, no least cause to believe we follow one who is not the chosen of the goddess. To survive a trial any might survive would be idle, for it would prove naught.”

“And it is no other thing than the truth which we seek here,” said Ennat, continuing to look only upon me. “Should it truly be Mida’s wish that we ride to battle with a stranger at our head, we must know that that stranger is truly our superior in all things, truly sent by the goddess to lead us. You must consent to be tested, Hosta war leader, else shall your words and efforts come to naught.”

Again silence descended upon those in the tent, even the light eyes of Faris the Summa speaking of the need to know full truth in the matter. No words not spoken by Mida herself would then suffice, I saw, and the great weariness which lay buried in me rose high again, bringing with it a deep, burning anger which I was unable to acknowledge.

“Very well,” said I, straightening myself where I knelt, looking upon each of those who watched me so carefully. “Testing has indeed been my lot many times, most especially while in the capture of males. Perhaps Midanna will find themselves able to accomplish that which the males were unable to do, and Jalav will be ended. Such a state is not without its benefits. Let us begin at once.”

“For what reason are you so filled with bitterness, Jalav of the Hosta?” asked Ennat, curiously. “Should the words you spoke be true, you are more beloved by Mida than any other warrior at any time. Would this not be cause for soul-blazing joy rather than soul-blighting bitterness?”

I thought upon each of the joys I had been given in my service to Mida, the joys of pain and humiliation and shame, and saw at last the disappointment which had come to me when my acceptance among Midanna had been no better than that which had been mine among males. The feeling was foolishness, I knew, yet was I powerless to chase it from me. One is usually untouched by the manner in which one is treated by enemies, yet were these also Midanna, and I more touched than I had thought.

“Time enough for joy when I have survived your trials, Ennat,” said I, looking upon the Keeper with little of the openness she herself showed. “The sooner we begin, the sooner will that joy come to me.”

“An eagerness to face that which will surely be completely lacking in pleasure of any sort is commendable,” said Ennat with the faint smile which seemed to indicate deep understanding. “However, despite your eagerness, our war leaders trust be allowed a time of discussion to determine the exact nature of the trials you will face. You will remain our—guest for the remainder of this fey and the darkness following, and we will begin with the new light.”

“And I, personally, shall see to her comfort,” said Kalir the Selga, showing pleasure. “One who was not the chosen of Mida would require a good deal of uninterrupted rest, to prepare her for the rigors she must face; one who rides for the goddess, however, will not require the same. Victory will be hers no matter the barriers erected in her path.”

“The war leader Kalir speaks the truth, Faris of the Summa,” said Ennat to the Summa who clearly gathered herself for protest, ending the other’s words before they were begun.

“The Hosta must triumph with no aid whatsoever, even in the face of distinct opposition, else shall the trials have no more meaning than words of insistence. Surely you are able to see this?”

“Aye, my vision is completely unimpaired, Ennat,” said Faris with a glance for Kalir’s amusement, rising to her feet to look down upon the Keeper. “It seems, however, to require more than unimpaired vision to see where lies the honor in these doings of ours. The Summa either greet sisters or end enemies; never do they find amusement in the plight of others. A pity the same cannot be said of the Selga.”

She turned then and walked toward the fire above which hung the daru, giving no heed to the venomous look sent her by Kalir. Truly among her own would Kalir have been with the Silla, those who took great pleasure in the agony of others.

“And yet this—plight was freely accepted by the intruder among us,” said she, restraining her anger. “The greater the number of difficulties we give her to overcome, the more certain will we be upon the question of her position. Benetros, come stand beside me.”

At the summons, one of those males who served by the fire rose and came forward, halting beside the Selga as she had commanded. Dark-haired and dark-eyed was the male, of a height greater than Kalir, perhaps even somewhat larger than myself. What might be seen of the male both above and below the colorless wrap about his middle showed him to be well made, and the manner in which he looked upon me showed him to be one with the Selga.

“Benetros came to take, yet remained to give,” said Kalir with a smile. “He thought to have a Midanna as slave-woman, then found more pleasure in himself giving service. As he has been thoroughly taught the proper manner with war leaders, he will see to the comfort of our guest till the time her presence is required at the first of the trials. Does any here object to this?”

Kalir looked about herself, most especially at Faris, yet the Summa drank freshly poured daru with her back to the Selga, no longer willing to spend words uselessly. Were I to survive what trials were put before me the Summa would find further words, yet was it necessary that I first demonstrate my worthiness of her support. None might fault Faris for her doing for she had, in honor, attempted to deal fairly with a difficult situation. Were I permitted to triumph over what lay before me, I would not forget such honorable treatment of one who was, in strictest truth, an enemy.

As none had given denial to Kalir, the Selga had turned to the male beside her, spoken softly so that only he might hear, then had smiled in approval at his nod of agreement. Despite the difficulty of my position in that tent, it undoubtedly would have aided me to remain during the discussions to come, therefore was I annoyed when the male immediately turned from Kalir and approached me. I was able to see the frown upon Ennat as the male went to one knee before me, then was I taken by the waist and raised to his shoulder, a moment later hanging head down as he rose again to his feet. My anger was great that the Selga would dare have me done so, as though I were in truth no other thing than a captive and a slave, yet did I speak no word of protest as the male bore me from the tent. I looked upon the Selga and met her smirk with the gaze of a war leader of the Hosta, promising a time when the matter would be seen to between us with swords. She smirked as though the silent vow I had made was meaningless, and I grew truly angry.

Without the tent were the tears of Mida, falling heavily upon the grass and tents, darkening the light of the fey even more than the gray of the skies. No warrior stood about to see the manner in which the male carried me, one arm about my legs, to a tent lacking all evidence of clan colors, one which stood not far from the Keeper’s tent and was of a size larger than most. The male hurried through the rain, making no attempt to keep me from looking all about as best I might, and I wondered upon the oddity of one who served Midanna being hurried by even so heavy a rain. Among certain of the clans, males were often used beneath the tears of Mida to seek an added blessing, one which would give the birth of no more than daughters to that clan. Quite possibly the male who carried me had been used so, therefore was the reason for his hurry unclear—till we reached the unmarked tent and entered it. The voices of other males greeted him but the male remain silent till he had dropped me to the tent floor, in candle-lit dimness.

“How angered you seem, wench,” said this Benetros with a silent laugh, looking down upon me where I lay attempting to loosen the leather which bound me. Three other males, also clad in colorless hip coverings, came to stand beside the first, clearly upset.

“Surely, Benetros, that is a Midanna,” said one. “Also does she wear the second silver ring of a war leader. To do her so is to invite a death more horrible than I care to contemplate. Have you lost your wits?”

“My wits remain sound, Telemar,” replied the male Benetros with a laugh, dragging his arm across his face to wipe away the tears of Mida which covered him. “This wench is in truth Midanna, yet is she enemy to those whom we serve. I have been commanded to see to her in whatever manner I please, with the aid of any others I choose. Would you care to join me in the use of a war leader?”

“In truth?” asked the male Telemar, his eyes widened as he again looked down upon me. “To again be permitted to take a wench, rather than being taken by one! And she a war leader! Indeed would I care to join you, Benetros, even should the time allowed be no more than reckid.”

“The time allowed is hind, therefore may you others join us as well,” said Benetros to those two who had not yet spoken, then did he seat himself beside me upon the soft tan leather of the tent floor. “It pleases me greatly to have had you given to me, wench. From the words you spoke to the war leaders—and from those which remained carefully unspoken—I am of the belief that you have been taught to serve a man well. In the hind to come, I will see that you serve me exceedingly well.”

“I have been taught to serve males with sword and dagger,” said I to Benetros, then did I look upon the others. “That I am currently bound in leather is meaningless, for I mean to win my freedom with the new light. Those who offer me insult now will surely be recalled at that time.”

“Ah, but we shall offer you no insult,” laughed Benetros even as one of the silent males shuddered and quickly walked to the far side of the tent. The touch of a hand to my breast immediately returned my attention to the darkhaired male who sat beside me, and again he laughed. “We offer you only pleasure, war leader,” said he, “for you are surely made for no other thing. What lovely mounds you have, so high and full, calling to a man to put his hands and lips upon them. I feel sure you will quickly be brought to begging what pleasure you may be given—should it be our wish to give it.”

“She shows naught of arousal, Benetros,” said Telemar with unease, seating himself carefully to my other side as I growled and attempted to dislodge the hand of the first male. “Are you certain she may be made to desire us—and will not retain her anger?”

“Her anger is great, yet it will soon be put aside,” said Benetros with much confidence, his amusement undiminished. “After we have caused her to squirm and beg and debase herself, her shame will be too great for her to ever approach us again. Have no fear, Telemar, for I have dwelt among these Midanna longer than you, and therefore have a deeper understanding of them. Our deaths will not wipe away the shame she will feel, for she will have been proven less than we—and she will not, in any event, survive the trials she will face with the new light. We will be the last to take pleasure from this body, therefore shall we take as much as we are able, eh, brother?”

“Indeed,” said the second male, his unease remaining, yet was that unease overcome by his desire to use a war leader as he had been used by them. My anger was indeed great as the hands of Benetros went to the ties of my breech. for the shaming I was to be given was at the command of Kalir the Selga. Again I struggled to loosen the leather which bound me, uselessly doing naught as the breech was pulled away, and then was a hand between my thighs, touching me in a manner intended to raise my heat. My shock was deep, then, yet was it an entirely unexpected shock. The shame I had anticipated had not come, nor would it, for I continued to wear my life sign! No desire for a male ran through my blood, no need was awakened, no awareness of the touch as anything other than a touch upon my flesh anywhere. I would not respond to the male no matter his efforts, and surely would this keep him from me.

“Benetros, she continues to be unaroused,” said the third male, he who had not yet spoken, he who now crouched down beyond my feet. “Should you fail to arouse her, you may not use her.”

“I must use her,” muttered the first male, no longer amused due to the failure of his efforts. Anger seemed to hold the male, and a good deal of fear, and lines of upset entered his face as his eyes hardened. “Kalir has demanded that I use her, and I must not disobey. Should I fail she will send me from her, and I cannot bear the thought. And you two shall aid me, else shall I make it known that you disobeyed the word of a war leader! This one shall be ended with the new light, yet Kalir will remain; do you wish her to be told of your disobedience?”

The near-shrillness of Benetros caused the other two to look upon each other with great upset, yet there was naught they might do to deny the will of the first male. They dared not disobey the word of a war leader, and to them I was not the war leader they must obey. A thrill of apprehension flashed through me, bringing me a touch of cold in the heat of the tent, and then was Benetros again looking down upon me, his hands now moving all about my body.

“No more than one of us need be aroused, wench,” said he, the look in his eyes far from pleasant. “Though you are somehow able to resist my touch, the feel of you is more than enough for my own arousal. Should you wish to be spared agony, you had best allow your own lubrication.”

With that did his hands go to the leather upon my ankles, freeing one side of it, causing me to again throw myself about and kick. It was not possible to allow my body to protect itself, and as my knees were forced wide and Benetros came to present himself to me, I knew that the first of my trials was at hand. A Midanna will sooner have pain than shame, yet where the survival of many is at stake, even shame is preferable to failure. With difficulty did Benetros thrust within me, beginning the thing, and well aware was I suddenly made of the fact that darkness had not yet fallen. Hind had the male spoken of, and hind did it become.