To Battle The Gods

8 Discovery—and a less palatable capture

I awoke to discover that I had not slept but lain senseless, for it seemed that I no longer rested near the tree nor even lay beside it. In two arms did it seem I was now being held, carried about with little effort, the smell of a male strong from the leather-clad shoulder my head leaned upon. In truth was the smell of males all about rather than merely from the shoulder, and I moved in protest that I had again been taken captive.

“Put her here,” said the concerned voice of a male, a voice I had not expected. “I shall have the lives of the ones who did her so, Sigurr take me if I do not!”

“I believe she wakens,” said the one who held me, another I had not expected. “I give thanks to the Serene Oneness that we have found her and she lives.”

Then was I lowered to the softness of a covered lenga pelt, the arms were withdrawn, and a hand smoothed my hair. Had I thought that what occurred about me was reality I would surely have leaped off the lenga pelt and run into the forests, yet had it come to me that such a belief would have been foolishness. No more than imaginings brought about by hunger and pain was I in the midst of, the voices no more than wind in the trees, the comfort of the pelt no more than grass grown thick in feylight. At times had I heard tell of such a thing, the imaginings brought about by weakness and need, and nearly did I smile with the relief I felt.

“For what reason has she not yet opened her eyes?” asked a third voice-of-the-mind, as concerned as the others. “Had Chaldrin not been so sorely wounded, he would have accompanied us and seen to her, and had your brother Lialt not been needed to tend him, he, too, would have been here.”

“Chaldrin no longer lives,” said I to the wind voice, annoyed that it knew so little. In a moment I would open my eyes, and search through my sack for what provender there might be. “Chaldrin no longer lives, and I am the one who has slain him. Perhaps he will wait till my tasks are done.”

“Wench, Chaldrin has not been slain,” said the voice, a great surprise now to be heard. “Open your eyes and look upon me, and then you will know that I speak the truth.”

So easily did the wind speak lies to me, thinking to bring me pain with its words, yet was I not to be gulled, like some warrior-to-be, to believe what was clearly not so. I sat upon the pelt which was no more than grass, raised my head in defiance, and opened my eyes to see—the face of a crouching Aysayn.

“Chaldrin lives,” said he again, smiling at the way I stared at him. “Think you his slaying might be so easily accomplished? He lies sorely wounded and in great need of careful tending, yet does he live with Lialt’s assurance that he shall continue to do so. Had he known we rode in search of you, surely would he have made the attempt to accompany us.”

So great was the relief and joy I felt that my eyes closed once again, to allow Aysayn’s words to penetrate. Chaldrin was not lost to me forever, I had not slain in mindless anger the one who had vowed always to stand beside me. Chaldrin lived and my spirit soared, for he was far more deserving of life than I.

And then did my eyes open once again, for an unsettling thought had come. Clearly was that Aysayn who crouched at my feet beyond the lenga pelt, light-haired and dark-eyed and clad in black body cloth and swordbelt; as that was so, then the others who had earlier spoken were—

Without thought and quickly as I was able, I turned upon the pelt and attempted to scramble from it, to leave as far behind as possible those two who crouched at either side. Their surprise held them rooted the while I attempted my feet, yet was Aysayn not deceived as they; a large hand shot forth to close about my ankle, and no more than the lenga pelt with my face did I find.

“What foolishness holds you now, girl?” demanded Aysayn as he pulled me back to where I had been. “Where did you think to go as you are, bare as a nilno and all covered with welts? You, too, are in need of tending, and that as quickly as possible.”

“I have no need of tending,” said I, raising up on my elbows while keeping my eyes upon the lenga pelt. “Release me now, for I wish to don breech and swordbelt.”

“You shall don no more than salves of healing,” said Mehrayn from his place to my left, his voice heavy with scorn. “What ails you, wench, to believe yourself able to dress and bear weapons?”

“Clearly lack of sustenance ails her,” said Ceralt from one side, clearly displeased. “See how thin she has grown in the past feyd, as though naught has passed her lips.”

“I will fetch the salve, you the provender,” said Mehrayn, to Ceralt. “Perhaps, between the two of us, we may quickly restore her to health.”

“And retain our own health in the doing of it,” agreed Ceralt dryly, as he rose. “Perhaps I shall one fey speak of what was necessary to restore her once before.”

“And I of an incident in which I was involved,” said Mehrayn as they walked from the fur to the kand which stood not far distant. No sooner were their eyes no longer upon me than I again attempted to rise from the pelt, yet had I forgotten the hand of Aysayn, which had not retreated far from my ankle.

“You shall not,” said he in a softer voice, his grip as unbreakable as it had earlier been. “For what reason do you seek to run from them?”

“I do not seek to run from them,” I returned just as low, attempting to free my ankle from the hand which held it. “Merely do I prefer being elsewhere, away from those who so disapprove of my doings.”

“You would have them give approval to finding you beaten and starved and lying insensible and defenseless in a forest?” he asked, with a hint of amusement. “You ask no more of them than that?”

“I ask naught of them in any manner,” I muttered, finding his hand impossible to escape. “Release me, male, for I shall journey with neither you nor them.”

“Wise are you indeed to seek to avoid me,” said Aysayn, his voice somewhat puzzled. “What I fail to understand, however, is the reason you would avoid them.”

I, too, felt puzzlement, therefore did I turn my head to regard him over my shoulder. Lying so caused my body to ache, an excellent reason for asking the question I had as quickly as possible.

“For what reason would I wish to avoid you?” I asked, seeing that he had gone to one knee to hold my ankle more easily. “More so than any other male, that is?”

“For the reason that there is a matter which you and I shall speak of as quickly as you are once again as you were,” said he, looking upon me with an odd steadiness. “Ever have I considered the use of wenches a great pleasure, yet not with a blade at my throat and not in such large numbers at once. When you are returned to yourself, we shall discuss the matter at length.”

Well did I then recall the words Mehrayn had spoken, concerning the difficulty Aysayn had had by cause of his use by warriors. I turned to my left side upon the fur to ease the ache in my body, and looked upon the male with sobriety.

“The possibility of the strangers coming at that time in attack had not occurred to me,” said I, shaking the hair back over my shoulder. “Had you fallen in battle due to the pain you were given, the fault would have been mine. Should you wish to face me in challenge when the strangers have been seen to, I will not deny you.”

“Challenge,” said he with a sound of scorn, shaking his head as he took seat upon the pelt beside my feet. “Should we all of us survive the coming of the strangers, you will likely spend the following two kalod seeing to challenges both given and allowed. Mine, however, need not be included among them, for I have no intention of seeking challenge. No call was there for having me done as you did, with the possibility of battle or without, therefore shall you face me not in challenge but in punishment, a fitting punishment for so childish a doing. Also, perhaps, shall you receive what was given the leader of that horde.”

Great indignation came to me at Aysayn’s words, that he would dare speak to me so, yet did I frown at a far more important matter, and sit up to face the male more directly.

“What have you done to Rogon?” I demanded, nearly agrowl with the anger I felt. “Naught was she guilty of save obeying my commands! Were you displeased with the actions of a Midanna, your place was to speak to me of it!”

“Rogon, eh?” said he, leaning down to one elbow as his hand rubbed his chin. “I had not known what name was hers. A small bundle, yet exceedingly well packaged. And that wealth of dark red hair.” His gaze, which had been turned inward, now sought me with his grin. “Had she come to me alone, it would likely have been she who found difficulty in walking. And how was I to speak to you of my displeasure? You had disappeared, none knowing where.

“Now I am no longer disappeared,” I replied, refusing to be put off. “What have you done to my warrior?”

“No more than teach her to be cautious of what commands she obeys,” said he with a shrug of dismissal. “That first darkness of your disappearance, I found myself restored sufficiently to seek the wench out where she walked about among Sigurri warriors and her own wenches. Little difficulty did I find in taking her from the fringes of them with none the wiser, and thence to a place we would be undisturbed. She struggled with the strength of one twice her size, yet was I able to remove her swordbelt and take her in my arms. After a short while she attempted again to use me, clearly unaware of the reason I had brought her to that place, learning of it only when she, herself, was put to use. Her struggles then were of greater amusement and interest, yet failed to be of much duration. When I at last left her, she had not as yet returned to herself. I shall be sure to seek her out again when once we have returned to the city.”

Again his gaze went inward, a faint smile on his face, bringing me a greater disturbance than I had thought to have. Clearly had Aysayn found a good deal of pleasure with Rogon, so much so that he meant to seek her out a second time. I knew not how Rogon viewed the matter; however, she had ever been one to take use from males, not herself give that use. Now I had, inadvertently, involved Rogon with Aysayn. The male was able to give great pleasure, I knew, and in such a manner was a warrior entrapped, through the pleasure brought to her. How could I assist Rogon to freedom?

“And just such forced service might I also take from you,” said Aysayn, returning himself to my attention, his dark eyes again upon me. “To be given such additional punishment would be fitting, a thing likely to be agreed to by your two—suitors. And now tell me why you seek to avoid them.”

His eyes looked up toward me from where he lay upon his right side, far greater demand in them than had been in his words. Truly concerned was the male, and that despite the fact that the concern was none of his.

“I dislike being importuned by those I have already refused,” I said, making no effort to avoid his gaze. “For what reason has Ceralt not departed with his village males? They were defeated, were they not? And why does Mehrayn not direct those warriors who remain without the city? The place was meant to be his.”

“Ceralt’s villagers were indeed defeated,” said Aysayn with a nod, his gaze unmoving. “Ceralt himself, however, and Galiose as well, being two of those who were chosen as best to stand against our least, were themselves victorious. Telion returns Ceralt’s men to their villages, and one of Galiose’s does the same with the men of Ranistard. Ceralt and Galiose, as victors, demanded the right to remain; therefore have they done so. Mehrayn has appointed one of the Princes of the Blood to direct our legions in his absence, a man with far greater skill than I, making my presence, too, unnecessary. For those reasons were we three all able to come seeking you, which we have done. Now, while Ceralt prepares provender for you and Mehrayn warms the salve, both over the fire they have built, I will hear for what reason you have refused them.”

“A war leader of Midanna need not speak of reasons,” I returned, stiffly. “No more need is there that she do than voice her preferences, which has already been done. Also is it my preference to return to the city alone, which shall be done as well.”

“No, it shall not,” said he, his calm denial nearly as infuriating as his hand upon my ankle had been. “Do you refuse to choose one to keep hurt from the other? Do you forget that they, themselves, shall see to the choice, should you fail to speak your own desire? I will do what I may to help keep their swords sheathed; however, I may not stand between them forever. Tell me of the difficulty you face, and perhaps I shall find it possible to aid you.”

The smell of the meat which then roasted upon the fire brought an ache to my insides, one nearly as great as the vexation which filled me. It continued to be beyond me why males must ever make demands upon warriors, yet was understanding unnecessary to be the victim of the thing. Nearly each male I came upon sought, for one reason or another, to possess me as his own, a state so infuriating that rational thought was well nigh impossible. For what reason would they not leave me be? How was I to see an end to the thing, save through sword-use? Even had I found it necessary to skulk about in hiding, to rid myself of one who had accompanied me no more than a matter of feyd, one who had been a slave in Bellinard. Great fools were all of these males, concerned with naught save their own desires, that and the foolishness of what other might wish to possess what he, himself, coveted

Of a sudden did a thought come, about these males. I was ordered to choose which male would be mine; the other, presumably, having been spurned, would take himself off to bedevil another. In reality would he who had been spurned stand himself in challenge to the one chosen, a thing to be expected from males. In what manner, however, would one stand himself in challenge against another who was not present? In order to have battle one must have an available enemy, else does battle occur only in one’s thoughts. It would be necessary that I again speak untruth, but that became easier each time it was indulged in. These males had refused to hear the truth; what, then, was left save lies?

“None need give me aid,” said I to Aysayn, looking again to the dark eyes which regarded me. “I am Midanna, and a war leader of Midanna, and have already done as I wished. The male I will have for my own has already been chosen.”

“Indeed,” said Aysayn with an odd pleasantness to his manner, looking up at me in comfort from the place where he reclined. “And what man have you this time chosen? Is it to be S’Heernoh again? Or perhaps you have this time settled upon Galiose. Should your choice be Galiose, you will likely not be concerned with giving him challenge. There will be two others to do the thing for you.”

“Why would I be so foolish as to choose one I wish to challenge?” I asked, annoyed at so witless a suggestion. “The one I have chosen is the one who freed me from those in whose capture I lay.”

Again the aroma of roasting meat came, bringing dizziness and a faint trembling with it, therefore did I unfold my legs and lie upon the pelt upon my left side. I would take the provender these males offered for I had a great need of it, and then would I begin the return journey to Bellinard—a solitary return journey.

“What one who freed you from capture?” demanded Aysayn with startling abruptness, his face suddenly appearing directly above mine. “What capture were you in, and who was it who freed you from it?”

“I ended in the capture of those city folk who had been sent in shame from Bellinard by my Midanna,” I informed him. “Great was the pleasure they took in beating their captive, and also was it their intention to sell me in Bellinard settlement once it was reached. The slave felt he owed his life to me, therefore did he aid me in my escape when he executed his own.”

“Slave?” demanded Aysayn. “What slave? For what reason did he fail to remain with you? In what manner did you return his life to him? How was he able to leave one so clearly unable to see to herself?”

“What occurs here, brother?” asked Mehrayn in a puzzled voice the while I attempted to construct suitable replies in my mind to the questions Aysayn had put. Mehrayn and Ceralt had come forward from the fire they had built, and now stood beyond the pelt near Aysayn, directly before me. No more than their legs was I able to see from where I lay, yet was that certainly more than sufficient.

“The wench claims to have made a choice in a man,” said Aysayn in annoyance, pulling back from me to sit upon the pelt rather than kneel upon it, glancing briefly up at those who stood so near to him. “Would you have me repeat what I was told?”

“Indeed,” said Ceralt after a hesitation. “The question has for far too long gone unanswered.”

“Very well,” said Aysayn, his eyes upon me rather than upon those he addressed. “The man she has chosen is—a slave.”

A moment of silence greeted Aysayn’s announcement, as though the words called for deep thought, and then Ceralt and Mehrayn spoke with nearly the same breath.

“What?” demanded Ceralt as though he had not heard correctly, and, “A what?” demanded Mehrayn, outraged. Then did they both speak at great length and together, so that the sound of each swallowed the sense of the words of the other. At once Aysayn held up a hand, and looked upon the two who stood beside him.

“The wench has chosen a slave,” said he, his tone calm as theirs had failed to be. “The slave who aided her escape from those who held her captive. The slave whose life she returned. Perhaps it would be best if you were to give her that meat now, Ceralt, and then we may question her at greater length.”

“I had nearly forgotten I held it,” said Ceralt in a mutter of annoyance. “Sit now and take the meat, Jalav, and then we shall speak of what needs to be spoken of.”

He crouched then and held out what was impaled upon his dagger, a large slice of freshly heated nilno. Clearly had the meat been cooked at another time and merely warmed in the fire, yet did it capture my attention for all of that. My insides truly twisted as I sat again upon the lenga fur, and no more than the briefest glimpse did I give the male.

“There is naught which needs to be spoken of,” said I, taking the meat from the blade held out to me, fording it just cool enough to hold. “A decision was demanded of me, and I have made that decision.”

“That was not the decision demanded of you, wench,” said Mehrayn, mild reproof in his voice as he sat himself cross-legged upon the pelt, easing his sword to a position of comfort. “Your choice was between Ceralt and myself, and naught has occurred to change that.”

“A Midanna war leader may choose any male she wishes,” I said about a large bite of nilno, juices dripping down my fingers. “It has been said many times that I must have a male of my own, therefore have I chosen one. Now do I demand to be left in peace.”

“Left in peace with your slave?” asked Aysayn, moving aside, to make room for Ceralt. “We are to believe that you have somehow been freed from capture by a slave who in some manner owed his life to you, and who then rode off and left you? After he became your chosen? Do you take us for fools?”

“I take you for males, which is often the same,” I allowed, savoring the annoyance he showed. “You, Aysayn, know the slave yourself, for it was you who sent him to me in the palace of the High Seat. It was then that I allowed him to retain his life, which he chose to see as having had it returned after having forfeited it. For what reason he saw it so, I know not. Happily, I am not male.”

“There are those of us who have already taken note of that fact,” said Mehrayn, his eyes moving about me in the same manner that Ceralt’s did. “For what reason have you taken no more than two bites of that nilno?”

“For the reason that I am able to hold no more,” said I, reluctant to release the meat I held, yet unable to continue feeding upon it. The grease had added to my queasiness rather than easing it, and my throat would surely refuse another taste.

“I see now I should have prepared falum rather than nilno,” said Ceralt, frowning. “That and broth must be her fare till she is able again to accept solid food. Also her hair should be braided, if that salve is to be applied to the cuts and weals. ”

“And she also should sleep awhile, to regain her strength,” said Mehrayn, reaching to a small parsto-hide sack he had put in his swordbelt. Parsto-hide, unlike leather, may be heated near a fire without fear that it will dry out and crack. Brewed daru may be carried in it, or sword oil. “We may continue speaking of her slave after she has had tending and a nap.”

“I have no wish for falum, salve, sleep nor tending,” I informed them all, raising my head as I threw the nilno between Mehrayn and Ceralt. “I shall now take my belongings and depart, for there are those in Bellinard who await my return.”

“Had we deemed you well enough to travel, you would have traveled with us,” said Ceralt, rising together with Mehrayn as I shifted about in preparation for regaining my feet. The pain I had refused to acknowledge ruled nearly every part of my body, yet had it done the same the darkness previous, and I had still been able to continue on a while. That fey I would do the same again, and rest when adequate distance separated me from the males who were now too near.

“For now you will rest with us till you are able to travel,” said Mehrayn, moving about to the opposite side of the pelt, Ceralt remaining where he had been. I had given more attention to my rising than to the males, a foolishness I would not have indulged in in a more clear-headed moment. Mehrayn went to one knee and reached across to my right arm, and before I knew aught was about he and Ceralt had put their arms about and beneath me, to return me to the lenga pelt on my back. With a sound of surprised indignation I attempted to raise myself once again, yet Aysayn had once more taken my ankles, and the others each kept a hand to one of my shoulders.

“Their whips were busy indeed,” said Mehrayn, much of a growl in his voice as he looked down upon me. “The front of her is not as badly wealed as her back, therefore you and I will see to it first, Ceralt. When she sleeps, it will be best if she does so belly down.”

“You continue to believe the sign of Sigurr will not aid her?” Aysayn asked Mehrayn, as I feebly attempted to kick from his grasp. “For what reason would it not?”

“For the reason that no other thing than major wounds and life threats have been seen to by it in the past,” said Mehrayn, taking his hand from my shoulder to open the parsto-hide sack. “The wench herself has seen it the same, and the salve should heal her quickly enough, along with rest and proper nourishment. Would you have me place her in the power of the sign for naught?”

“I continue to find it difficult to believe that the wench carries a sign of the gods,” said Ceralt at Aysayn’s headshake, putting his free hand to my shoulder. “Ever had she insisted she rode for her goddess, yet had I taken the insistence for a female notion meant to be ignored.”

“The will of the gods may not be ignored,” said I with what strength I was able, to Ceralt and the others as well. “Best you release me and step from my path, to keep from being thrown from it.”

“Were we meant to keep from your path at this time, we would not have found you,” returned Mehrayn at once, seeing naught of Ceralt’s frown nor Aysayn’s faint air of disturbance. “The salve is warm and will not increase your pain, wench, but might hurt from the applying of it. Ceralt and I will work as quickly as possible, and then will you be able to rest.”

My protests were as naught against the determination of the males, and once strands of my hair had been brushed gently aside, Mehrayn and Ceralt shared the applying of the salve. The males touched the marks upon me with great care, though I found it necessary to close my eyes and clamp tight my teeth and fists, to be sure no sound escaped my throat. Two of the city females had taken great pleasure in striking me upon breasts and thighs, and that despite the presence of my hair and the cloth tied about my waist. Had greater strength been theirs, surely would the weals and cuts have been considerably worse.

With the front of me seen to, all three males aided in turning me to my belly, and then Ceralt began plaiting my hair, just as had been done when I was his captive. Again I attempted to free myself from their attentions, yet to no avail. My ankles were held, the plaiting was done, and then the salve was applied. With fists closed tight about clumps of lenga fur, I was given more than enough opportunity to regret the two swallows of nilno I had taken; with each passing moment they threatened to return from whence they had gone. I strained to keep such evidence of weakness from shaming me, and in the straining at last found the ease of darkness.

Consciousness returned to me with the sounds of feathered children of the wild. I remained as I had been put, belly down in the furs, and another fur had been put atop me despite the warmth of the mid-fey light. I stirred a bit where I lay then raised up on my elbows to see what strength I had recovered, finding then that the salve had also been put upon my wrists where the leather had so often held me. A good portion of the pain I had had remained to plague me, yet was there some small easing beside the annoyance I felt. Had I not been weakened by capture, those males would not have been able to force upon me the treatment of a city slave-woman, an insult they cared naught for giving. Insolent were males, and forever giving insult, and a warrior did well to avoid them whenever she might.

The lenga pelt I lay upon had been placed in the shade of a tree, and it came to me then that I heard no voices from the fire which now was beyond my feet. Had the males gone hunting, I, too, would soon be gone, and that was as eagerly desired as the end of my tasks. It came to me then to wonder how it was that Chaldrin’s spirit had appeared to urge me toward an ending to my tasks, when the male had not taken the final journey to the endless dark. It was not unheard of for the spirit of a departed warrior to return and visit those the warrior had been closest to, yet never had I heard of one returning who had not truly gone. Males, it seemed, were as strange in death as they were in life, and once I had returned to Bellinard I would be sure to speak to Chaldrin of the matter.

The fur beneath me urged me to remain upon its comfort, yet were there doings awaiting my attention. I began to turn to my left side, so that I might more easily kick off the covering pelt—and discovered only then that my ankles were loosely yet firmly bound in leather. The audacity of those males to do such a thing so angered me I tried to fling the covering pelt as far as possible, yet the sound of a voice stopped me.

“Leave the cover as it is, girl,” said Aysayn, clearly quite near to me. “The salve must be warm to be most effective, even after it has been applied.”

I twisted about, and saw that Sigurr’s Shadow had seated himself not far from the end of the pelt. His dark eyes were calmly assessing, his back leaned against the bole of the tree we sat beneath, and absently did he chew the blade of grass he held.

“By what right have I been bound?” I demanded, filled with even greater annoyance at the sight of his calm. “Am I now to consider myself captive to you?”

“If you wish,” he replied, quietly amused. “It was the desire of none here to take a captive, however should you require such a state, we shall certainly not refuse you.” He paused then to whistle the song of the nesting lellin, then added, “The leather was put upon you to keep you from dislodging the covering fur, should you begin moving about in your sleep. Has some measure of the pain and weariness now been taken from you?”

“A Midanna war leader feels neither pain nor weariness,” I replied, not at all mollified by the smoothness of his words. “I shall now take my belongings and depart.”

“Before you have given thanks to those who aided you?” he asked with feigned surprise. “Before we have spoken further upon the matter of the slave you have chosen in place of Ceralt and Mehrayn? Surely you will join us for the mid-fey meal, which has already been prepared against your awakening?”

He made scant attempt to conceal the amusement he felt even as he rose to his feet, an amusement which showed in the mock courtesy he thought to cozen me with.

“There is naught I wish to join save the return trail to Bellinard,” I said with all the annoyance I felt, making no effort to look up to the male where he stood. “I find your attempts filled with little amusement, Aysayn, for I am not one such as Galiose, to be led about by the ears with the appearance of concession. I shall have my weapons and breech, and then I shall be gone upon my way.”

I began, then, to sit upon the pelt, in order to throw aside the cover and remove the leather which bound me, yet was I again stopped, as Aysayn grabbed my hair to keep me unmoving till he had seated himself in the grass before me.

“Indeed are you not one such as Galiose,” said he, no more than amused by the fury with which I looked upon him. “Galiose will accept the words of diplomacy for the sake of peace, a state you have little or no interest in. As you seem to require an exact description of the state of affairs you currently find yourself in, I shall no longer make the attempt to spare your sense of pride. You shall remain in our company and care till full health has been restored to you, and only then shall you return to Bellinard—again in our company. You may not refuse our aid nor may you depart, for Mehrayn and Ceralt will not allow it, nor shall I. Have I spoken clearly enough?”

So gentle and mannerly was his inquiry that one would have thought he discussed the direction in which one must ride in order to find the stream one has been seeking. So great was my anger that I reached to his fist and attempted to loosen it from about my hair, yet was it no different from the fist of any other male, large and square and possessed of the accursed strength which warriors had been denied. He watched in silence a moment as I pushed and struggled to part his fingers, and then did he dare to reach over and sharply strike my hands away with his free one.

“You need not waste what little strength you have in activities such as that,” said he, looking down upon me with a critical eye. “For what reason do you attempt to refuse aid when you are so clearly in need of it?”

“For what reason need I accept?” I countered, glowering at him. “Have I given my vow to do so? Have I been commanded by the gods to do so? I am a Midanna warrior; should it not be my wish to accept what is offered, I need not do so.”

“So you continue to seek to avoid Mehrayn and Ceralt,” said he with a sudden grin, amusement returned and enhanced. “Even are you willing to indulge in the actions of a child to do so, for your steadfast refusals may be viewed in no other manner. What will you do should they take the notion to treat you as the child you seem?”

“Aysayn, release me!” I hissed, furious with his amusement, yet also greatly upset. “I have chosen to refuse both of those males, and have no desire to remain longer in their company!”

“By cause of the slave you have accepted in their stead,” said he with a solemn nod. “As the two who have been rejected now approach, we shall first see you fed, and then shall delve more deeply into the matter of your chosen. Should you refuse what is given you, I feel certain your disappointed suitors will assist you in swallowing it.”

So pleased was the accursed male to impart this knowledge, that he was unable to keep hidden the grin he had covered, surely anticipating the time when those others might again put their hands upon me. In helpless fury I turned my head as far as I might, and was able to see the approach he had already noted. Ceralt and Mehrayn had come from deeper within the forest, their strides wide and eager, their upper bodies and hair glistening wetly. Neither leather chest and leg coverings nor fur boots had been retained by Ceralt, both most obviously unnecessary in the warmth of the fey, his sword and Mehrayn’s aswing at their sides through the vigor of their movements. Both had clearly bathed but recently, and I returned my gaze to Aysayn with resentment and rage.

“I am no longer able to bear the weight of these furs,” I informed him, my gaze a promise of reckoning to come. “Release me so that I may remove them, and do so immediately.”

“You must bear their weight for you may not remove them, child,” said the male, his voice and amusement softened, his words spoken more slowly, as though he did indeed address one too young to easily follow his meaning. “The salve must be kept warm to do its proper healing, therefore must you remain in the furs. Your discomfort is not unknown to Aysayn, therefore shall Aysayn bring you a large sweet when the fey has ended, to reward you for your bravery and obedience. The sweet will please you, will it not?”

Had I then stood with sword to hand and strength unimpaired as I had a few feyd earlier, surely would I have striven to the utmost to see that Sigurr no longer cast a Shadow upon our world. Even so, with body aching and limbs weakened, with mind yet befogged and belly hollow, with ankles bound and hair entrapped, still was I a war leader of Midanna. Although it would have pleased me to use the learning I had had from Chaldrin, I knew Aysayn’s knowledge of the learning was far more extensive than mine; therefore I must use that which came from the living symbol of my life sign, the hadat. The greatest portion of my strength was spent in bringing my knees to the place my elbows had been, and that before Aysayn knew what I was about. With the aid of my palms to the lenga fur I was able to bend to the hand upon my hair and sink my teeth into it, with all the fury I felt. The male howled with surprise and pain, immediately attempting to withdraw the hand, yet was I not of a mind to release him that quickly. Aysayn, Sigurr’s Shadow upon this world, had had great amusement; now would Jalav, chosen of the gods, have the same.

A great deal of shoutings and confusion then ensued, with Aysayn thrashing about and Ceralt and Mehrayn suddenly beside and between us, and then was my hair taken in a fist just at my head, and fingers pressed hard between my jaws. It was then necessary that I release Aysayn though I had no wish to, and once done I, too, was released. Ceralt removed his hand from my hair and drew me back upon the lenga pelts while Mehrayn assisted Aysayn in examining his hand. In no more than two places had my teeth broken the skin, and the flow of blood was feeble indeed; had I had my full strength upon me, well might I have attempted his throat instead. I sat upon the lenga pelts with some difficulty, bound ankles to the left, chest pounding with the small exertion I had attempted, Ceralt’s arm about my shoulders in support and restraint, and Mehrayn glanced up from the hand he bent over.

“Though it scarcely seems necessary that you give reverent thanks that that is not your sword hand, brother,” said he to Aysayn, “still might you find it best to see the hand washed and salved. What occurred between you that such strong disagreement would arise?”

“Disagreement!” echoed Aysayn with a dark look for me, rubbing his hand. “Your amusement is poorly considered, brother. The wench attempted to command me to her will, and when I refused to allow her to cause herself further harm, she attacked me. Perhaps my choice of words were a trifle—lighthearted, yet even so— Are you quite certain that there is no hope of seeing her restored more quickly than will be accomplished through use of the salve? Her humor grows more foul with each passing fey.”

“Her humor will need to accommodate itself,” said Mehrayn with a dour look. “Perhaps, in future, it would also be best were you to speak with her in a less-lighthearted manner, to avoid inciting so vigorous a return.”

“A vigor she is now ill able to afford,” said Ceralt, a disturbance in his voice. I had attempted to keep myself from leaning upon him, yet had the drain of my strength been such that I now, albeit reluctantly, rested against his chest. “That she has so quickly ceased all efforts to struggle takes my thoughts from consideration of what punishment her attack merits.”

“For now, her punishment will be a return to motionlessness,” said Mehrayn, touching the dampness upon my brow. “She must remain in the furs, and must be fed what you have prepared for her. Let us see to these things as quickly as may be. ”

As Mehrayn and Aysayn rose immediately to their feet, Ceralt turned and lifted me from the furs in his arms before rising. Their bustle and strength dizzied me, so much so that I was little aware of the arms which held me, the shoulder I rested against, wet, dark hair above light eyes which regarded me with too deep a gaze. In a matter of reckid was I once again returned to the furs whose absence was a delight, this time with other sleeping furs and such under the bottom pelt, so that I might lean back in nearly a seated posture rather than lie flat upon it. When Mehrayn placed the second pelt upon me I attempted to refuse it, thereby bringing his arms rather than Ceralt’s about me, to prevent the thing. Little need was there for the use of any great portion of the wide-muscled strength in those arms, yet were they kept about me, even with the return of Ceralt and a bowl, that which is called a spoon jutting up from the contents of the bowl. Faintly do I recall attempting to refuse what proved to be well-warmed falum, that thick-grained mixture fed upon by village folk, yet was my need for sustenance too great and the insistences of the males impossible to refuse. The falum slid to the hollow within and soothed it in a manner which the nilno had not, and before the dizziness left me, far more of the grain mixture was gone than remained.

When I at last turned my face from the spoon wielded by Ceralt, able to swallow down not one more mouthful, Mehrayn released me so that I might take the skin of water brought by Aysayn upon his return from seeing to his hand.

“Already do you appear stronger and with some color restored, sister,” said he wryly, putting the skin aside so that he might seat himself upon the grass near me. Mehrayn continued to sit on my other side, Ceralt before my bent legs. “Now, perhaps, we might speak further upon the matter of your slave.”

“No longer is he a slave, nor was he ever more than merely a captive,” said I, looking solely upon Aysayn. “Do you fear so greatly the strength I have recovered, that you continue to refuse to remove the leather upon me? A pity Sigurr’s Shadow has not more courage than that.”

“Alas, sister, indeed am I sorely afraid,” said he, his sigh seeming affected by the grin he wore. “In repayment for a matter of toothmarks, you may now remain hobbled like the wildest of she-gandod, a condition well earned by your precipitant actions. Should one feel insulted, one may offer back insults of one’s own; not always is attack called for.”

“No others save males are unaware of the fact that the sole reason for insult is to provoke attack,” I returned with scorn. “Should the deed be beyond you, I shall do the thing myself.”

I then attempted to throw the cover from me so that I might reach the leather upon my ankles, but both Mehrayn and Ceralt immediately prevented me. The two laughed to see themselves in the midst of precisely the same action, caring naught that I had found no amusement whatsoever.

“I see you do indeed know her as I do,” said Ceralt to Mehrayn, and both laughed a moment, then stopped. Mehrayn merely nodded in silence, heavily, and each one stared into the eyes of the other.

“So the man is a slave who is no longer a slave who was never a slave,” said Aysayn hurriedly, a forced lightness to the words which were addressed to me. “What occurred between you and this slave in Bellinard, and how were you reunited?”

I looked upon him with little of the anger I had felt, naught of the ache which had abruptly blossomed within, then began the tale he had requested. I would not allow Ceralt and Mehrayn to bare blades against one another, and the lie I had chosen to speak as truth would see my will done. I told of the time in Bellinard, of the branch which had felled me, of Relidose and the conveyances, of the city folk and their doings. No trace of amusement was left to Aysayn when I spoke of the manner in which I had been strung by the wrists at the end of each fey’s travels to be beaten, then was given to the slave for use. That the beatings and use had been closely and eagerly observed by the city folk angered all three of the males, and Mehrayn struck a large and furious fist into the palm of his other hand.

“If only we had known soon enough that you were gone!” he growled, his anger echoed on the face of Ceralt. “We none of us knew you were not somewhere about till darkness fell, and Galiose thought to ask if your kan had been returned to its stabling. We discovered then that it had not been, yet was it necessary to await the new light before we might attempt to follow. S’Heernoh was able to speak of the direction he believed you had ridden off in, and once into the forest we found the track of your kan.”

“Which we followed till we caught it,” said Ceralt, more bitterness than humor to his laugh. “Nearly all my life have I hunted and tracked, and not once did it come to me that the beast we followed was unburdened. It then became necessary to retrace our steps, which eventually led us to a place where wagon tracks ran beside your kan’s hoofprints. This time did we follow the tracks instead, halting only when darkness forced us to it. Another fey and another darkness, and then the new light brought us to where you lay nearly upon the track we followed.”

“Which you had clearly intended following in the opposite direction,” said Aysayn, his voice attempting a denial of the bleakness of the others. “Now, as to the reason why you were allowed to attempt the journey without accompaniment: for what reason were you allowed it? Was the man not able to see how clearly you were in need of assistance? Why did he merely go his own way?”

“It was my wish that he do so,” I replied, meeting the vast annoyance to be seen in his eyes with calm. “He would have had me travel with him to his home to the west, yet was he aware of the tasks remaining to my hand, the males I must continue dealing with for the time. He was reluctant, but he obeyed my will, for he knew he was my chosen and would be sent for when all battle was done. There is no place at the side of a Midanna war leader for a male before all battle is seen to.”

“It was your will that he leave you to your own devices, therefore he did so,” said Aysayn, his annoyance somewhat increased. “Clearly your survival mattered little to him, and this is the man you would choose for your own? One who would not even accompany you to be sure of your safety?”

“You would have him be as foolish as other males and doubt the ability of a Midanna in the forests which are her home?” I returned with scorn, easing down, somewhat, the fur which covered me. “You would have me choose a male who did not bow to my will above his own? I know of no war leader who would seek to increase her difficulties; only males seek to do such a thing.”

“How willing is this—man to stand in defense of what is ostensibly his?” asked Mehrayn. “Any man who truly desires a wench will fight for her, against any who seek to take her from him. How willing is this man?”

I turned my head to see the green gaze which regarded me, the stubbornness and implacability behind the words which had been spoken. Ceralt, too, looked upon me as though he would stand against any who would take what was his.

“No male I choose need consider the need to stand against others,” said I to both, looking from one to the other. “As the choice is mine, so would be what challenges came, for the decision which was opposed would also be mine. Do you think me a city slave-woman, that my possession might be had by any who fought for it?”

“Even a wench who rides for the gods may be possessed by a man strong enough to claim her,” said Ceralt. “What eagerness will this man you speak of find to face challenge?”

“I shall not allow my chosen to be challenged,” I maintained, deliberately looking away from the two who sat so near. “When battle is done I shall ride to seek him out, and none may deny me. I need not consider the desires of any other.”

“What reason, then, need any others consider your desires?” asked Aysayn, pointedly. “For what reason, then, should you not merely be taken, no matter your own wishes to the contrary? One who fails to consider others forfeits all rights to be considered. I believe the wench should not be allowed further rest, my friends, and also more of the healing salve. We may not ride till she has been restored.”

“Indeed,” said Ceralt in agreement, Mehrayn also anod and then were all three males rising to their feet. Though I had no true wish for further rest, the props were removed from behind me, the warmed salve was brought, and again it was put to the tracks of beatings. Surprisingly less pain was to be found in the second touching of the thick, brown salve, and quickly was I again set upon my belly amid furs to seek sleep. I had no wish for the furs and no wish for sleep, and certainly no wish for the leather which continued to hold me, yet did the males refuse to hear my protests. Once I had been put so I was not permitted to rise again and, rage though I might, sleep quickly claimed me.