An Oath to Mida

15 A cave is found—and a carving of evil

The new light brought an early beginning for all, seeing us well upon the trail before the gray threatening had strengthened to its brightest. Hannil and his Neelarhi rode before those called Belsayah, yet few of Ceralt’s Belsayah would have had it otherwise. Though the Neelarhi alone seemed little different from the Belsayah males, Hannil’s presence turned them overly concerned with position and order of march. Ceralt gave them the lead with a gesture of disinterest, spending his concern, instead, upon the skies. The smell of the air, windless and calm, promised new whiteness to add to that through which we struggled, an event none looked forward to.

My lanthay once again moved beside that of Telion, this time at Ceralt’s direction. I was to remain with Telion or Lialt when I could not be beside Ceralt, for Ceralt mistrusted Hannil and his intentions. Those who called themselves brother to Ceralt seemed pleased with the duty entrusted to them, saying they would see me safe or themselves in Sigurr’s grasp. I dwelled as little as I might upon this, for it was all one with Ceralt’s thoughts and actions.

Telion hummed to himself as he rode, a distracting sound with little pleasure to it. When he and Lialt had awakened after the darkness, they had done no more than stretch before assuring Ceralt he had missed naught of consequence by not having bedded the female Deela. She, who had been made to sob and writhe far into the darkness, had flown into a fury, looked toward me with a promise of death, then had dressed herself and fled the tent. The males were more amused than I, for the female had not sent her venom toward them but toward me, undoubtedly considering me less than the males. At another time the thought would have annoyed me, yet my own actions and Ceralt’s replies remained to plague my waking hind. Did I truly consider him as he had said, and if this were so, how might I rid myself of so foolish a notion? I knew not—in Mida’s name, I knew naught—and wisest would I be to leave the matter for another time.

The fey continued to a dark, lowering gray, then grew no brighter. Upon halting for our mid-fey meal, Lialt approached me with a sheaf and proclaimed that I had been too silent of late. Perhaps another reading lesson would take my mind from what depths it had plunged to. At first I disliked the idea, then the lure of the thing took me, nearly against my will. Ever has there been a part of me demanding to know, and this part refused to be denied. I entered the lesson with more interest than Lialt had expected, then rode beside him the balance of the fey, reciting the letters’ callings and describing their shapes. Though I erred more often than I cared for, Lialt pronounced himself extremely pleased, as was Telion. The two males then bound me to secrecy, for they wished me well able to read before Ceralt learned of my progress. Why this was so I knew not, yet both assured me Ceralt’s pleasure would be greatest should I do as they demanded. I shrugged the matter off as a thing of males—without sense and without reason—and gave my word to abide by their request. It seemed a small thing to give those who had pledged themselves to my safety.

The snow came no more than lightly at the end of that fey, yet a hand of feyd farther saw our set halted for more than another fey. The snow fell so thickly then that one was unable to see the rider before her, not to speak of the direction in which one rode. The cold decreased, as did the wind, yet the tiny bits called snow swirled all about, making one squint in an attempt to see, turning one’s cheeks cold, then colder, then numb, encasing each rider in a low, narrow world of white. We fought to find one another in the stuff, fought to tether the lanthay and erect a tent, then fought to take the numbness from our bones with warmth. Ceralt chafed at the delay, pacing the tent with long, impatient strides, demanding of the air to know where the balance of his people might be. None were able to answer him till the storm was spent, then, by twos and fours, was the set reformed to discover the loss of one male and female of the Belsayah, two each of the Neelarhi. All seemed sobered by these losses, Ceralt and Hannil nearly asnarl, yet I thought the losses not unreasonable. Battle had been joined with the land through which we rode, and where does one find battle without also finding loss?

The second heavy storm, seven feyd past the first, found us already within our tents and fully prepared. Ceralt had relented and allowed Lialt to walk the Snows none other might see, that we might have warning soon enough to face the falling whiteness without loss. This Lialt did with eagerness, yet was I sent to the tent of Cimilan and Famira till the Clouds of Seeing had blown themselves to nothingness upon the cold about us. I grew angry with Ceralt for refusing me the opportunity of again walking the white lands, yet Ceralt would not allow me anger either. When once again the snows whistled chillingly about us, he punished me for my anger by contesting with Telion and Lialt to see which of them might use me the longest—and most often. They each saw that I was given no pain, yet the humiliation of finding my body slave to each male in turn was stronger than I had thought it would be. Though I had thought myself resigned to use by males till Mida freed me from them, the impatience of freedom-soon-to-be made my capture much the worse.

Another hand of feyd went by beneath the hooves of weary lanthay before the males discovered themselves nearly to their goal. Our vision had been constantly hampered, if not by snow swirling from the skies, then by snow blown about by the wind; the gradual rise of the ground was not noted till the skies briefly cleared to show us the looming bulk of that which males called Sigurr’s Peak, closer, by far, than any had expected. Ceralt sought out Hannil, the two conferred, then the march resumed toward the snow-covered foothills perhaps a fey’s ride from where we stood. Had the ground not risen before the approach to this Sigurr’s Peak, our attempt to reach it would have been much the longer in the doing.

The new fey brought us to the foothills we had sought, yet the unevenness of the ground caused the males to push farther on, seeking a level place where the females of the set might be left in safety and comfort. Again I thought their actions foolish, for naught save Lialt’s seeing had brought us to our destination; should we and he fail to return to those left behind, seeking the return trail would likely cost the females their lives. And upon the matter of provender, none would speak nor dwell overlong. We had fed less and less well as the journey went on, little edible to be found around us, little left of that which we had brought. Should our quest prove an empty one, the females would find themselves unable to feed upon lanthay and continue their trek afoot—as a warrior would do. Ceralt cared little for the thought of warriors, yet should survival have been possible, warriors would have survived.

Our lanthay struggled through the mounds of snow, the hind passing fruitlessly, and then a shout rang out, calling our attention to a large, dark gap in the whiteness. Word passed quickly of a cave having been found, and all in the set turned their lanthay toward the haven. The thought of so large a cave cheered the males and females alike, after having been so long amid naught save gray sky and white ground. Jalav alone disliked the look of the place, yet Jalav was not consulted—nor would the males have heeded her disquiet had she spoken. Jalav was a savage, and a captive, and knew little of that which males knew. Jalav was now able to make out small, simple words in the book Lialt taught her from, yet such was very little in the eyes of a male.

Gaining the cave was more difficult than the males anticipated. The snow before it, for some fifty gando-strides, had turned to ice, making our approach treacherous in the extreme. Many lanthay slipped and fell, spilling their riders or the load they bore, some plunged through the ice to rocks and hard-packed snow, some balked and refused to travel farther upon the uncertain footing. Surely I thought to see lanthay legs and human necks snapped before all stood within the dryness of the cavern yet, despite all falls and slippings, the entrance was gained without a single loss of life. Ceralt grinned and moved about, ordering torches to be lit, taking one of his own, then leading a hand of males deeper within the darkness of the cavern. Before long many torches were lit, and Ceralt reappeared with confidence restored.

“The cave is perfect,” said he, speaking to Hannil yet looking about at those females who crouched against the cave walls, weary nigh unto death at battling snow and frightened lanthay and cold with no roof above them. “We shall leave the wenches here, comfortable and guarded, and return for them when we have found Sigurr’s Altar.”

“And where might this Altar be found?” rumbled Hannil, much subdued from when he had first joined us. “Should it be much farther, we will not survive to see it.”

“It cannot be much farther on,” said Ceralt, at last giving Hannil his attention. “It is said to lie in the heart of the Peak, not the head but the heart. Lialt will seek out the trail to this heart, saving us from having to search for it.”

“I like this not,” grumbled Hannil, throwing his hood back to shake his head. “The Pathfinder is yours, speaking words you wish to hear. Are we to take a trail, knowing naught of where it might lead, leaving our wenches to what might be their fate?”

“Do you propose we join them here?” demanded Ceralt, patiently keeping himself from taking offense. “What then of the journey we began—and the people left behind us to face the coming strangers?”

“Perhaps the journey was ill-conceived,” muttered Hannil, rubbing a large hand across his face, avoiding Ceralt’s eyes. “Perhaps the strangers will go elsewhere, leaving us to live in peace. I am weary of battling snow and cold, lack of food and adequate shelter, illness and discontent. And I do not care for the look of this mountain. It somehow bodes evil—for all of us.”

Ceralt’s face worked, as though he wished to reply heatedly, yet his temper was soon taken in hand and he nodded toward Hannil.

“I fear we are too weary to discuss this rationally,” said he, letting his own weariness enter his tone. “We shall all spend the darkness here, taking our ease, restoring our strength and purpose. The new light will shine on clearer thoughts and stronger wills. Let us enter farther into the cavern, for the bowels of the earth warm it as though it were spring.”

All seemed pleased with the thought of warmth, and soon were we entering a large room of a cavern, deep gloom chased to corners by the torches held high by males. The lanthay were left near the entrance, and once the torches were set in hastily chopped niches, the males returned to the beasts of burden to fetch sleeping furs and provender and that which the females deemed necessary. No more than four paces within the cavern I had found it necessary to remove my body furs, and soon all had done as I, retaining no more than leathers.

We all moved about upon the center of the wide floor, yet were the walls of greater interest to one who disliked the place. Amid stone growths from floor and ceiling, a hand of side caverns seemed to beckon with dark mouths, whispering of things which hid from our sight and watched us. Perhaps my dislike of the place peopled the farther darkness with enemies, yet the thought was not an unreasonable one. When one has the care of others to consider, one does not settle down to sleep with unconcern. Some males moved about placing things they had fetched, the females chattered happily to one another, other males stretched and laughed and sported with one another, some females fussed and straightened and unpacked that which they could not survive without. No other save Jalav thought to look about her and wonder upon the fate of any others who had perhaps come first to the cavern. The shelter had been easily found—perhaps too easily—yet no sign of earlier visits remained to be read.

The black coals were quickly brought to heat, meals were cooked thereon, and all settled down to feed, converse, then take their ease-of the males, that is. The females were first required to see to the remains of the meal, the cleansing of boards, the desires of their males. Ceralt, having conferred with Lialt and Telion, took his ease with us, far from Hannil, his eye close upon me to see that I did as the other females. He seemed intent upon finding distraction, grinning well when I removed my leather leg coverings. The warmth was such that I would have preferred also removing my boots, yet the sharp, pebbled rock which floored the cavern disallowed so sensible a course. I had nearly removed my chest covering as well, but this Ceralt had refused to allow. The other wenches would protest such immodesty, he laughed, especially as their men might demand the same of them. Best leave well enough as is, said he, and Lialt and Telion, also with laughter, approved his decision.

With all slave chores seen to, Lialt came to demand my attention to another reading lesson. I truly had no desire for such, with unlighted, unguarded openings about us, yet Lialt would not hear of refusal. He took my arm and led me to sit upon a lanthay fur thrown beneath a torch, and soon we were immersed in the effort to show me the sight of words I already knew well, yet only to hear. Some words, I learned, though exact in all respects to another just like it, nevertheless were spoken differently at different times. The need for this escaped me till Lialt thought to speak of them as male and female, exact to one who sees no more than shape, different to one who knows the place of each. I grasped the thought with some difficulty, chewing it with the teeth of my mind, and the cavern grew still in the time we sat beneath the torch.

At last I raised my head to see that all those village folk save Ceralt, Lialt and myself lay upon furs in deep, soul-weary sleep, females beside their males, sharing their furs. Perhaps two or three females yet moaned to the touch of their males, softly so as not to bring the eyes of others to them, helpless even in their embarrassment. Ceralt lay awake in his furs, watching as Lialt and I rose to our feet, then gestured that I was to accompany Lialt to his furs before coming to him. Lialt hesitated before removing his leathers, gazing down upon me as though considering refusal, but the sounds of those who continued awake disallowed his refusal. I was taken in his arms beneath his furs, used softly yet well, then sent to Ceralt with a last, deep kiss. Ceralt, heated more than Lialt had been, filled my soul to overflowing so much so that I failed to stay awake as I had intended, instead finding sleep in the circle of his arms.

I must admit to surprise when I awoke to find all as it had been. The cavern showed little to the eye to cause unease, yet I liked it not. Some few males were also awake, seeing to the replacement of the torches set upon our arrival, a thing which should have been seen to sooner. No more than a hand-length remained to most, some already having sputtered out in their niches. I moved about in the furs beside Ceralt, feeling a deep desire to don leather and furs and leave that place, even should the snow fly in the air without, burying all beneath it. Surely there are worse fates than to lie dead beneath the thing called snow, and I somehow felt that my dreams through the darkness had hinted at such.

“Satya, what ails you?” asked Ceralt of a sudden, his voice no more than a murmur in the deep silence. “Throughout the darkness you tossed in sleep, now you continue to toss when awake. Has something disturbed you?”

I lay upon my side, facing away from him, considering the possibility of explaining what I felt. The track of lenga or faith may be easily shown to another in the forest, yet how may one show a track upon the mind, a faint hint upon the breeze, a broken leaf, a knowledge that speaks of the lenga’s presence even without evidence one may point to?

“I am uneasy here,” I groped, turning slowly to face him. “This place is not what it seems, and none should linger here. Do you truly mean to leave your females behind in this place?”

“We have found no other place to leave them,” said he, a frown creasing his brow. “This cavern seems no different from any other to me. What do you see that I do not?”

“There is naught to see,” I pressed, shaking my head. “One must feel this place to sense that which is here. It is much like a cage for souls which are lost, their bodies no more, their spirits unable to reach a final glory.”

“Such is foolishness,” he snorted, smoothing my hair with his hand. “Your superstitious nature leads you astray, my girl. There is naught here to cause harm to any.”

“So you say,” I jibed in turn, shaking his hand from my head. “There is a hint of the white land about this place, a lack of sign where there should be, portents where there should be none. Is even Lialt blind and deaf in this place of innocence—or merely at Ceralt’s command?”

“Woman, you overreach yourself,” he growled, closing his fingers upon my arm. “That I allowed Hannil to speak so does not mean you may take the same liberty. Lialt will walk the Snows before our departure, and then will your theory be tested. Should he find anything, I will be greatly surprised. For now, go and see to Telion’s needs, for he has awakened.”

Ceralt’s hand left my arm, yet the anger did not leave his eyes. He was pleased to speak of my beliefs as superstitions, yet disliked the reminder that Lialt would do exactly as his brother wished, no matter the cost to himself or others. He now attempted to punish me for what he considered insolence, sending me to Telion when he knew full well how I disliked being forced to the service of a male. For a moment I gazed upon the darkness of his face, his light eyes clouded, then did I turn from him and leave his furs to move to Telion’s, little more than a pace away. A greater number of males and females stirred about the cavern, some few rising to their feet, others no more than awake in their furs. Telion raised a corner of his furs in invitation, then chuckled as I lay myself beside him.

“I thank the Serene Oneness that your tongue remains unbridled,” said he, gathering me to him. “Was it not such a constant burr to Ceralt’s temper, I would have long since found myself deprived of your use. What was the subject which this time caused such disagreement?”

“I merely remarked upon the blindness of males,” said I, putting my hands to the broadness of his chest. “Telion. Does naught cause you uneasiness in this place?”

“Uneasiness?” he echoed, losing the grin he had been showing. “I feel naught save a faint closeness which is natural in caverns such as this. Do you sense more?”

“Aye,” I nodded with a sigh. “Ceralt calls it superstition and dismisses it, yet do I feel that Mida sends me warning against that which only she might see. Wisest would be to leave here, and that right quickly.”

“There are times when wisest is not best,” said Telion, matching my sigh. “It is almost certain death for us out there, from cold and snow, if not starvation. Are we to choose certain death over that which may occur? Ceralt thinks not, and I am forced to agree.”

“There are many things worse than death,” I said in deep disgust, taking my hands from him. “A pity city males have not yet learned this truth.”

I began to turn from him, annoyed with myself for believing he would see where others gazed blindly, yet this the male would not allow. Though often seeing more deeply and having greater understanding than other males, Telion yet remained a male within him, displeased with hearing that which he did not wish to hear.

“Jalav is ever so sure in her beliefs,” said he, continuing to hold me to him, anger beginning to grow. “To leave the safety of a haven on no more than vague feelings of unease is little more than female foolishness, not for men to indulge in. Take your fears in hand, wench, lest they bring you punishment in the midst of the safety you so earnestly seek.”

His hands and lips came to me then, taking the use Ceralt allowed him, using the easing of his needs to mask the thoughts my words had brought. Telion used me hard and well, giving the punishment he and Ceralt wished for me bringing me greater distress than shame would account for. Throughout the time of my use by Telion, I felt that another watched and waited, his lips dry with the thought of using me, his loins athrob, his fingers curled to claws upon the body of another whom he used in my stead. Soon, said the silent, whispered thoughts of this male, soon it will be you beneath me, woman. Never have you had use as that which I shall put you to. You will survive long enough to know me your master.

I wished to shout defiance at these thoughts which assailed me, yet Telion was deep within me, taking my strength and will, refusing to allow me to do other than that which he demanded. A female in use is a female mastered, said Ceralt in my thoughts, his grin before my eyes, his dark hair reaching down toward the light of his eyes. I moaned and cried out in Telion’s arms, feeling a fear like a cloth upon the head, suffocating, strangling, debilitating and terror-making. Telion murmured in pleasure, thinking I, too, felt the pleasure, then the soft cry of his release brought me promise of imminent freedom, then the freedom itself. He held me no more than a moment past his spending, then moved to my side and released me.

“Your leathers now lay upon the stone behind you,” said he, smoothing hair from my forehead before putting his lips to it. “Do not arise till you have clothed yourself, else Ceralt will be angered. It was he who placed the leathers there as I took you.”

I turned my head to see the leathers he spoke of, afrown that I had not myself seen Ceralt approach. Or had I seen him, merely believing that his face was no more than in my thoughts? Was this confusion one with the belief that another had spoken to me in silence, all born of a great dislike of that which surrounded me? Could the males be correct and I in error? I reached a hand out and drew the leathers to me, so deep in confusion that knowledge of naught else approached me.

Once in breech, chest-covering and boots I rose to my feet, seeing that all those within the cavern were now awake. Females moved about conversing with one another, and some few males of Ceralt’s and Hannil’s took themselves toward where the lanthay had been left, perhaps to see to their welfare, perhaps to see how the snow and weather fared. I, too, was considering the preparation of provender when those who had gone to the lanthay returned hurriedly in much agitation.

“Ceralt!” shouted one of the males, arun toward his leader. “The lanthay are gone—and the entrance as well!”

“Gone?” echoed Ceralt in shock, amid the gasps and exclamations from all those in the cavern. “They cannot be gone! You and the others must have taken a wrong turning!”

“There is no other turning!” the male protested, stopping before Ceralt. Hannil, too, stood with those of his males who had gone to the lanthay, then the second High Rider looked toward the first. They both nodded in mutual decision, then moved off in the direction from which the harried males had run. All knew they went to see the thing for themselves, and many of the males hurried to accompany them. The females gazed upon one another in fear, tears and sobs quickly coming to them, yet tears and sobs avail naught. The decision was easily made that I, too, would accompany Ceralt, yet not so easily seen to. Telion’s hand took my arm as I began to pass him, forcing me back from the heels of Lialt.

“What do you think to accomplish there?” he demanded, his light eyes cold. “Do you go to say how evil a place this is, now that we may no longer leave it? Do you wish to see yourself beaten savagely, a victim to the fear of men entrapped? Will you never learn your place is among wenches, far from the doings of men?”

“I merely wished to see the thing for myself,” I replied, attempting to loosen the pain of his hold. “To repeat a warning when the attack has been launched is the doing of a fool. Far better to seek out weapons and stand prepared.”

“Weapons are not for females,” Telion grated, loosening his hold though his eyes remained bleak. “I shall see the thing for both of us, then perhaps speak of what I see. Or fail to see. One may hope those men are indeed in error.”

He took himself after the others at no great pace, reluctant to learn an unpalatable truth. I remained where he had stopped me, considering following, then shrugged and crouched instead. Ceralt’s fate was not yet upon him, this I knew without having the why of it; following to see a thing I already knew as truth would be idle.

The males returned with far less vigor than they had shown when leaving, proving our difficulty more thoroughly than with words. The females hugged one another and wept their fear and desolation, and the males gathered in the center of the floor to gaze upon one another in anger.

“We are trapped,” said Hannil to Ceralt, putting all blame upon the second male. “Where now do we seek Sigurr’s Altar, now that we languish in his maw? What now of the journey so necessary to our people? What now of our own lives, lost beyond redemption?”

“Our lives are not yet lost!” snapped Ceralt, all patience with the male gone away. “To take the lanthay could be the work of any, yet to take the entrance as well must be the work of the dark god! Had he wished our lives they would already be his, our bodies struck down more easily than the removal of so large a cavern entrance! That we live must mean that we shall achieve our goal!”

“Yet at what cost?” snarled the other male, his dark eyes wild with fear. “Should Sigurr demand the living death of each man here as his price for that which we have come, who shall deny him? You? The Serene Oneness? Why then was it not the Serene Oneness to whom we spoke our need? Why must it have been Sigurr?”

“The why matters not,” growled Ceralt, gesturing a dismissal with one hand. “Surely it was the Serene Oneness himself who demanded our approach to the dark god. Who else may write upon the Snows? Who else would see the thing so far in advance of its happening? We need not trouble ourselves with why, merely with how.”

“I shall not trouble myself in any manner,” said Hannil, drawing himself up in an attempt at dignity. “Perhaps Sigurr will know those who come unwillingly from those who come to do some mischief. My riders and I no longer count ourselves among you.”

With such words did the male take himself off, followed at once by those two who had been with him in his tent, more slowly by those others called his riders. These latter looked upon Ceralt as though wishing they might remain, yet their words undoubtedly belonged to the craven Hannil. Ceralt’s eyes followed them away, then his gesture brought his own males closer, so that they might continue their discussion in lower tones.

“Jalav, what are we to do?” whispered a voice, and I turned my head to see Famira bent beside me. She attempted a crouch such as I had taken, yet her balance was too unsure to keep it. She knelt, instead, upon the rock of the cavern floor, and raised large, anxious eyes to my face.

“There is little any may do,” I replied in answer to her plea. “We remained when we should have fled, now Mida must see to our safety.”

“Within the bowels of Sigurr?” pressed the female, no scorn to her manner. “Is Mida truly that strong?”

“I have stood behind her shield for many kalod,” I shrugged. “I shall not doubt till that shield fails me.”

“How are they able to sit there so calmly?” the female demanded, low-voiced, her eyes upon Ceralt and his males who now sat in a close circle, undoubtedly discussing the dilemma and all manner of ways of solving it. “I cannot bear to merely sit here, awaiting the Serene Oneness knows what! I have eaten naught since arising, yet the thought of food is as ashes in my mouth! Is there naught we may do save sit and speak of what has happened?”

“I had thought the next thing to be done would be obvious,” said I, rising to my full height to glance about the cavern. “Naught may be done concerning what has happened; however I doubt the thing was done without reason. As Ceralt has said, we yet have our lives; does it not seem likely that we are left as we are that we may search out another passage from this cavern, one we would not have sought had the entrance been kept as it was?

“Of course!” breathed Famira, rising to her feet to stand beside me, her eyes now bright. “Jalav! We must tell the men at once!”

“While they find themselves so seriously enmeshed with the problem?” I snorted, looking toward the males. “See you there as well; even Hannil and his ilk sit apart, speaking words meant for males alone. Females are not welcome in their midst.”

“They cannot refuse to listen to reason!” insisted Famira, her pretty face stubborn. So soon had she forgotten the doing of Cimilan, to teach her her place as a female. “As you do not care to disturb their talk, I shall do it for you.”

Quick as thought she had left my side, marching in determination toward the males. She had gone perhaps three paces when Cimilan discovered her imminent arrival and quickly rose to his feet, stepping away from the males to halt her upon her way and keep her from the others. She attempted speech to him, he interrupted and disallowed the thought, she again attempted to speak, and then did he interrupt for the final time. His dark eyes gazed sternly down upon her as he spoke, undoubtedly reminding her that she was bound to obey him else be punished and before the others. He turned her about and sent her upon her way with the flat of his hand to her seat, not ungently yet with more force than Famira cared to face again. Her fists clenched as she glanced over her shoulder to see Cimilan reclaim his former place, and then she was again before me, tears of anger in her eyes.

“He would not hear a single word,” she choked, looking up to meet my eyes. “How do you know them so well, you who know men so little and so poorly?”

“It is all one with the balance of their actions.” I shrugged, putting my hand to my life sign. “How else might they continue to think themselves masters, save they keep their thoughts from their slaves?”

“Well, are we to stand here and await the revelation to strike them?” she demanded. “Can we not look about on our own, finding that which is to be found and showing them their foolishness?”

“It is an action to consider,” I allowed, again looking about the cavern. “Let us begin by walking about as though in conversation of our own. Perhaps the proper trail will present itself to us.”

“Excellent,” nodded Famira, also looking about. “Let us stroll to the right, to the first of the openings in the wall there. It is possible our search may be that easily begun and ended.”

There was little reason to disagree, therefore did we make our way across the cavern floor, idly, as though we walked to no real purpose. The females had done as their males, huddling together in groups to weep and seek support from one another, and none seemed to look upon Famira and myself with more than passing interest. The males, deep in the import of their conversations, gave us no whit of their attention, therefore were we soon before the narrow gap in the wall which was our goal.

“Shall we go in?” asked Famira, peering uncertainly through the crevasse to the darkness beyond. “How are we to see where we go?”

“In such a way,” I murmured, stepping quickly to the nearest torch upon the wall. No eyes rested upon us, of this I had made certain, therefore was it best to act quickly. I took the torch, returned to the crevasse, and stepped within.

The light of the torch showed a small, stone-rubbled room, much like the cavern we had come from, yet smaller. With Famira close upon my heels we circled the small area, seeking other crevasses which might lead to that for which we searched. A barely seen fold in the wall, hidden by the shadows cast by our torch, formed a private nook from which even the torchlight failed to seep, yet the nook went no farther and was not repeated other places about the wall. We had discovered no more than a dead ending to our hopes, therefore did we take ourselves back to the main cavern.

“Best we replace this torch and later seek another,” I said to Famira, suiting action to words. “We would not wish our doings to arouse curiosity.”

“Indeed,” murmured the female, gazing past my arm. “A woman of Hannil’s comes to join us, yet I am sure she saw naught of where we went. Should she ask about the torch, say we borrowed its use to comfort us.”

I turned slowly to look where Famira looked, pretending unconcern, and therefore saw the approach of Deela, she who had been used by Telion and Lialt. The female came with a smirk of private amusement, her steps of a slowness to allow her hips a lazy swing. Though no male gazed upon her, still did she move in a manner to give her masters pleasure.

“Ah, the High Rider’s wench,” said she, halting some two paces before me to widen her smirk. “I was pleased to learn you are indeed less than I, even in your man’s eyes.”

“No creature is less than a slave,” said I, letting my eyes run slowly over her. “Why do you fail to wear your chains where all might see them? Do you believe none see their mark?”

“I am a woman of men, not a slave!” she hissed, all amusement gone away. “It is you who is more the slave! Those Belsayah found it necessary to force me to their pleasure, I, who am meant only for the highest! You, however, are meant for all, which was clear when the High Rider sent you from his furs to the side of another! The red-haired rider used you till you wept, I saw, with Ceralt’s full approval! Hannil would never do me so, for I am his alone!”

“Perhaps Hannil does not care to allow opportunity for comparison,” murmured Famira, seeing the way my chin rose at Deela’s words. The slave-female spoke words of deliberate insult, perhaps thinking herself safe from my wrath. The wrath she thought herself safe from had been long in building, yet venting it upon the small slave female would have given little satisfaction.

“Ceralt knows his worth,” continued Famira in a purr, “yet Hannil seems uncertain of his. You say our riders forced you to their pleasure. Was your own pleasure so much less than theirs, so much greater with Hannil? I somehow think not, else you would be less filled with venom at having been returned to Hannil.”

“You lie!” hissed the female, much like the venomous sednet, her fingers curled to claws. “Hannil is Ceralt’s superior, and all will be shown this when it is he who frees us from the consequences of Ceralt’s foolishness! I will then throw your lies in your face, for I will be the woman of the only High Rider!”

The female spat her words, then turned and hurried away before Famira or I might show our contempt. We watched her join those other two females of Hannil’s tent, then Famira turned diffident eyes toward me.

“Did Ceralt truly give you to the one called Telion?” she asked, a hesitancy in her question. “I had thought Ceralt wished you for his own.”

“Ceralt felt he had cause to give me punishment,” I growled, then smoothed the growl from my voice when Famira flinched. “It is a thing done by males when they find themselves displeased or disobeyed. Telion, however, was far from displeased. Shall we try the next crevasse?”

“I think it would be best,” said Famira, a small quiver in her voice. “I prefer other subjects than punishment.”

I took another torch and entered the second crevasse, seeing immediately in the light spilled forth that this second was not like the first. A wide corridor opened before us, bound on either side by walls of stone, leading away into the darkness beyond the reach of the torch. Famira gasped and urged me forward, eager to see where the corridor led, yet I took the time to examine the corridor walls before continuing. A warrior does not turn her back upon unknown stretches, yet the walls yielded no more than further nooks such as that in the first crevasse. Knowing my back secure I continued on, through the corridor and to its end, Famira close by my side, perhaps half a pace behind. Upon reaching the far end we both halted, Famira with a larger gasp, I with a frown.

The chamber which confronted us had no relation to that which had gone before, save that it, too, was taken from the rock about us. Nearly as large as the cavern without did it appear, forcing me to raise the torch so that I might see ahead toward the far side. The walls and floor appeared smooth and polished, untroubled by the rubble of stones which lay elsewhere, colored black and gray by that which had smoothed and polished them. Symbols of some sort appeared in the floor before us, as though sunk into the stone and covered over so that smoothness was retained even over their presence. The symbols held no meaning for me, nor for Famira, yet I felt they held great meaning for others, perhaps the others I felt all around, their eyes unseen yet seeing all. In the midst of the chamber, all lines drawing toward it, stood a carving of stone, a large seat upon which sat a figure, unmoving and immobile, yet somehow poised for movement—of evil. The figure was male, unclothed and in great heat, its arms up and hands clasped to make a circle, its stone manhood enraged and quivering, eager to plunge deep within its intended victim. Famira moaned in fear at the sight, adding to the trembling which I, myself, felt, and quickly did we leave the entrance to return up the corridor.

“Was that where we must go?” whispered Famira at last, visibly shaken. “If so, I believe I shall beg to be left behind. What was that monstrosity?”

I felt I knew who the carving represented, yet I said naught, perhaps to hide the unsteadiness of my voice. I, too, would have difficulty in passing that figure, yet refusal would only bring death. I was preparing to speak on the subject, but a sound came from the outer cavern which intruded upon thought.

“Do you hear that?” asked Famira, turning her head in the direction of the sound. “What could have happened out there?”

I, too, was curious, yet I felt it wiser to keep the torch from the crevasse entrance while Famira hurried to see the source of the disturbance. She, in shadow, peered out into the main cavern, then immediately turned and ran back to where I waited.

“Hannil and his riders come with torches!” she gasped, pale and obviously frightened. “That sleek varaina of his leads them, pointing the way with glee! You can be sure she means us no good!”

“Then we shall have to disappoint them,” I said, looking about myself. “Were you able to see the torch when I entered the largest of the nooks, the one over there?”

She followed the gesture of my finger, her face lighting, her head ashake. “No,” she breathed with a small laugh. “Not even when I stood directly beside it. Shall we return there?”

“At once,” I said, hearing the voices and footsteps of many males grow louder. I hurriedly led the way into the nook, Famira following after, finding little room for the two of us together in the slight, wrapped-around place. I knew not what had made me run from the males rather than stand and face them, yet I felt no doubt about the wisdom of my choice. To run was not a warrior’s way, yet the cavern we had found stood all previous doings in a new light.

“Are you certain she came this way?” said a voice not far from us, muffled by the stone yet Hannil’s—without doubt. “I see no light ahead.”

“I am completely certain,” came Deela’s voice, oily with satisfaction. “She seeks to bring Sigurr’s vengeance down upon us, of that I am equally certain.”

“Perhaps she went ahead, to the far end of this corridor,” said another male voice. “The wench seems as foolishly without fear as Ceralt himself.”

“We shall see,” said the voice of Hannil, and muffled footsteps began again. Famira and I waited, the torch held high above us, till no further sounds were to be heard, then did we edge carefully from where we had hidden. Many torches could be seen at the far end of the corridor, yet before I could decide upon either following the males or returning to the cavern from which we had come, new torches entered the crevasse.

“Jalav, what do you do here?” demanded Ceralt in a hiss, Lialt and Telion beside him, his riders, with torches, in his wake. He strode to us with anger clear upon his features, yet Famira did not hesitate.

“We do that which you should have done!” said she, placing small fists upon rounded hips. “We search for another exit from this cavern, cousin. Had Hannil’s wench not sought harm to Jalav, we would have called you long before now.”

“What harm?” rasped Ceralt, then listened as Famira described that which we had found, and then that which we had heard. A murmur arose among the males, yet Ceralt silenced it with a motion of his hand.

“It is clear we must see the thing for ourselves,” said he, gazing toward the flickering torches in the distance. “And also see what Hannil is about. Let us proceed.”

He and the others moved ahead, up the corridor, leaving Famira and myself where we had stood. Famira hurried toward the crevasse, obviously pleased to be away from the doings of males, yet I could not dismiss the goings on so easily. Silently, with as little noise as possible, I followed the track of the males.

I came up behind the males as they paused in the entrance to the farther chamber, struck by the sight of the carving seated within it. I could not easily see beyond their shoulders, yet soon found the problem solved for me. A hand touched my shoulder then reached for the torch I carried, and I turned my head to see a disapproving Telion. The male was not pleased with the fact of my presence, yet chose not to make an issue of it. His broad hand pushed those before us aside, and I was able to see within the chamber again.

Hannil’s males moved about the chamber in search while Hannil himself stood before the carving, lost in contemplation of it, his female atremble behind him. The male seemed fascinated by the carving, lost in it till one of his males spoke.

“There are other corridors, yet none seemed tenanted, Hannil,” said the male. “Shall we continue to search for the wench?”

“Has a wench been lost?” asked Ceralt before Hannil might reply, causing the males to whirl to face him. “Should you need our assistance, we would be pleased to give it.”

“We search for our freedom!” rasped Hannil, angered at having been discovered. “Your wench seeks to bring Sigurr’s wrath down upon us, and when we find where she has hidden herself in this chamber, we shall offer her up to Sigurr!”

“Ceralt’s wench has not been in this chamber,” said Telion, drawing Hannil’s eyes to himself—and to me. “She has been engaged in a task I, myself set her, and now stands among us. How could she have entered first, when here she stands, having entered with us, behind you?”

“She did enter first!” shrilled Deela, beside herself with fury. “I, myself, saw her enter here, and followed to be sure! She entered here first!”

“Hannil, see what we have found!” called one of the males, and Hannil, in a fury of indecision, turned from the grins of Ceralt, Telion, and the rest to examine what his male had found.

At the base of the stone carving, below the figure and its chair, were letters sunk deep in the stone and covered much as the symbols upon the floor. It was to these letters that Hannil’s male pointed, and Ceralt and his males moved forward, the better to see the message written therein. I, too, moved forward with them, overcoming a great distaste to do so, and presently gazed down upon the message others read with such ease. I struggled with each letter and sound, fighting to bring sense from them, and at last succeeded in doing so. The males had remained silent the while, considering what they had read, for the message, black upon gray, went so: “I am Sigurr, the Dark God, and to me belongs what I would take. Offer up the first among your females or feel my wrath.”

“It now seems clear why yonder wench so insists upon having followed Jalav,” said Telion when none other spoke. “Were she to convince us she followed another, she would not be first.”

“I have not lied!” insisted Deela from where she stood, having been left behind with the advance of the males. Only she had failed to read the message on the carving, her next words proving her ignorance. “And I am first among all the women, not only that Jalav! Jalav is used by many men, Deela used only by Hannil! Who, then, is first between them?”

“Perhaps the savage wench may read the words first,” muttered Hannil, not yet caring to comment upon his female’s insistences. “She would then be wise enough to hide her prior presence from us.”

“The thought is logical,” nodded Ceralt, meeting Hannil’s eyes. “Unfortunately, Jalav is unable to read. Lialt strives to teach her her letters, yet her resistance is incredible in its strength.”

“Then she could not have known,” said Hannil, his voice weary with defeat. “It is Deela herself who is demanded of us, on pain of punishment for refusal.” His voice, and Ceralt’s, had been held low, yet now he raised it. “Deela, you are indeed first among the wenches. Come here and join us.”

Upon hearing these words the pretty female smirked and preened herself, then came forward with swinging hips. She glanced a look of triumph toward me, then passed to stand herself beautifully before Hannil. This male placed his hands upon her shoulders, then turned to show her the inscription. Deela read the words more rapidly than had I, and suddenly her breathing quickened to frightened gasps.

“No!” she moaned, attempting to back from the inscription and the male who yet held her shoulders. “He does not wish me! It was Jalav who was first! Jalav!”

“And yet you stood and declared yourself first among all the wenches, Jalav included,” said Hannil, closing his fingers the tighter upon the female. “How else were we to know the first among our women, save that that one spoke out in our need? It matters not who came here first. She who was chosen was made to speak out.”

“No!” screamed the female, truly frantic with terror. So strongly did she struggle that two others of Hannil’s males came to assist in the holding of her.

“What do you propose to do?” asked Ceralt of Hannil, drawing that male’s eyes to him. Ceralt’s voice was disturbed, and he had moved to stand beside me.

“We must give her to Sigurr,” said Hannil, a wildness in his eyes unmatched by the calm in his voice. “One female is a small price to pay for our freedom, and if she pleases him, he may perhaps keep her for use.”

“You are insane,” breathed Ceralt, sickened by what Hannil intended. “How can you believe. . .?”

“I do believe!” Hannil blazed, hand to the dagger at his silvered belt. “I will do as the dark god commands and save us all! The wench is mine and you may not interfere—as I have not interfered in that which was done with your wench! Stand back now and do not seek to halt us!”

Ceralt stirred as though to move against the other male, yet many hands came to hold him where he stood, Lialt’s and Telion’s among them. That he failed to struggle proved he knew the futility of such an act, for Hannil’s males moved feverishly about the female Deela, who screamed and wept as the leathers were cut from her. The males moved in great haste, as though having made their decision, they now raced frantically to see the thing done before promised wrath fell upon them.

It was but scant moments before the weeping, naked female stood before the carving, the hands of males keeping her from fleeing her fate. I had no clear understanding of what that fate would be, thinking perhaps they intended spilling her blood upon the carving, as tribute to he whom they called dark god. That no battle was to be involved was somewhat unseemly, yet Hosta, too, will take the lives from enemies slowly, in retribution for acts performed against the Hosta clan. That these males offered up the female was clear, yet the next of their actions also clarified how she was to be offered up.

“No!” I cried, seeing three of the males, Hannil included, lift the female toward the waiting arms of the carving. They clearly intended placing her for use by the carving, and I could not bear the thought. So evil that face was, so sunk in pleasured cruelty, not even the pretty, foolish, female Deela deserved being done so.

“Jalav, hush,” said Ceralt, holding me by the arms to keep me beside him. I had attempted to move to the female’s aid, yet he and Lialt and Telion would not allow this. Their arms circled me and held me as I struggled, impossible to escape, impossible to deny. None had heard my outcry, for all had eyes only for that which occurred upon the carving.

Deela screamed as though possessed, throwing herself about, terror in every fiber of her being. The three males who held her lifted her from her feet, raised her above the circled, outstretched arms of the carving, then lowered her within them to the lap below. The carving’s manhood seemed to pulse in the flickering torchlight, evil and expectant, poison-filled and demon-raised. Slowly but inexorably was Deela’s womanhood slid toward it till her body blocked its view, her screams unending echoes in our ears. Hannil himself moved before her, his hand between her thighs, and truly could I see his positioning of her upon the cold, stone shaft. The carving’s desire was too large for her, far too large for any female of flesh, yet Hannil took her thighs, his males her bottom, and as one, pulled and pushed her upon the spear that cleft her body. Deela choked as saliva dripped from her opened mouth, her eyes wide and staring, her screams abruptly cut off. She choked again, and a third time, and then her hands went to the stone arms about her, clutching them in madness.

“It moves within me!” she choked out, and then her screams returned increased twofold. “It moves within me! Merciful heavens, it lives within me! Hannil! Hannil!”

The males released her and took a shuddering step backward, yet Deela had not been freed. She had been given over to the circling stone arms, from which she was never to escape. Her body began a movement in rhythm, as though she were truly being used, and I cringed back against Ceralt’s chest, sunk in a fear the likes of which I had never before encountered. All thoughts of warriorhood were gone from my mind, all fear felt till then no more than a child’s small dream. Sooner would I face a lashing of a thousand strokes than approach that carving, and had Ceralt’s arms not held me to him so tightly I would have run from that place though every Hosta war leader ever to live stood about me in judgment.

Surely all those who stood about thought to see a rapid ending to the gift they had placed upon the carving, yet such was not to be. Deela’s movement continued on and on, her voice now screaming, now choking, now whispering hoarsely, now laughing. The sight was enough to cause madness in the watchers, the sight of a female’s use by a carving. No word was spoken by any in the group, till a shifting torch shone redly upon the stone.

“See there!” said Hannil of a sudden, his finger apoint toward the carving’s knees. “Sigurr’s use has returned her virginity and taken it all in one stroke! She gives him her virgin blood, her use now his alone for all eternity!”

Hannil’s voice rang out in a laugh, madness clearly to be heard, Deela’s maddened laughter adding to his. I could bear no more of those sights and sounds; tearing myself from Ceralt’s arms I ran stumbling toward the corridor we had come by, my hand to my mouth to hold my insides within. After no more than a step or two, Ceralt was again beside me, his arm about me in support, his broad face as pale and sickened as mine must have been. I clung to him in my illness, faintly aware that many others followed us, knowing little of what occurred about me till we had again passed into the main cavern. The females stood about, and those few males who had remained to guard them, and all drew back from us upon seeing our faces.

“What has happened?” demanded Famira, the only one to immediately approach us. “Ceralt, Cimilan, Jalav—what has happened?”

“We have begun to pay Sigurr’s price,” said Ceralt, his voice thicker than usual. “Famira, help me with Jalav.”

Though the words would once have given me insult, no thought of refusal came when Famira approached to offer her aid. I trembled in Ceralt’s arms, my head awhirl, my thoughts in chaos. Deep within I knew what lay ahead of me, yet my mind refused to consider the possibility, my flesh shrank from the very hint of it. Was my fear, then, to be the cause of Ceralt’s loss, a fear before which I was no more than a child or a slave-woman? Fear should be thrown off and denied, faced and conquered; this fear was one which I could not even begin to think of in such a way.

I lay for many reckid upon Ceralt’s furs, my eyes closed, my arm across them. Famira sat near, prepared to aid me should I need her, unspeaking other than that. The males had gathered in the center of the cavern, all of them together save the two who had been Hannil’s closest. They two had attempted to take Hannil’s riders from Ceralt’s side, yet the other males had refused to hear them. Hannil was High Rider no more, and none other was able to stand in his stead.

I lay unmoving and unthinking upon the furs, attempting to deny that which had happened, attempting to put it from my memory for all time. It was an action no warrior was well used to, and slowly, slowly, the fact returned to me that I was a war leader, pledged to the service of Mida. It mattered not what such service might be, only that I performed it, and well. Few were called to Mida’s service to perform tasks easily done. That I wished to remain unmoving with the lanthay fur cradling my back had no bearing; were I to continue in Mida’s service, naught save that service must concern me.

It took an effort, yet I soon sat in the fur upon which I had lain. Famira clucked and berated me for failing to continue the rest Ceralt had decreed, yet Ceralt had said I must lie still till the illness was gone. The illness had gone as far as ever it would; lying longer in place would accomplish little good. No longer than a moment did I sit considering what next action must be taken, yet in that moment I saw four males returning with torches, obviously having been about examining the crevasses Famira and I had begun upon. I felt it needful to hear what word they brought, therefore did I rise to my feet and walk to where the balance of the males sat.

“ . . . no other openings,” said one male as I reached the group. “Further corridors lay only through the chamber where Sigurr sits, delighting in Deela’s use and Hannil’s madness.”

“We cannot return there,” said Ceralt, hand amove through long dark hair in a gesture more than weary. “We cannot take our wenches through a place such as that.”

“We must return there,” said I, drawing the eye of every male, causing Ceralt to rise quickly to his feet. “Our path leads forward, no matter the cost.”

“Satya, how do you fare?” asked Ceralt, coming close to put his arms about me. “With all that has occurred, you must rest till the shock has passed.”

“I have no further need of rest,” I assured him, putting my hand briefly to his face. “We cannot remain here, Ceralt. There is further to come should we attempt it.”

Ceralt’s face turned pale with my words, undoubtedly remembering the last warning I had spoken. I knew not how the certainty of further ill had come to me; I knew only the truth of the words I uttered. The other males muttered and stirred where they sat and stood, unable to face the possibility of further distress, unable to gather the strength of decision to depart the seemingly peaceful surroundings. The decision, however, was not theirs in any event. Ceralt’s color returned, yet the shaking of his head seemed to take the life from him.

“We cannot depart till we hear Lialt’s words,” said he, nodding toward a far corner of the cavern. The other male sat surrounded by the Clouds of Seeing, his eyes upon a scene other than that which his sight presented him. Telion sat near to Lialt, his attention full upon the other male, his body far from relaxed. “There has been enough of blind movement, enough of thoughtless flight and doing.”

“The delay, will not aid us,” said I, speaking the words yet seemingly hearing them for the first time. It was as though another spoke through me, putting the new knowledge in my mind and upon my tongue. The thought gave me no discomfort, for it was undoubtedly Mida who acted so, seeing, as ever, to the safety of her warrior. Again Ceralt looked grave at that which he heard, yet his light eyes remained determined. I shrugged at the decision which in reality delayed decision, moved from his arms, and crouched down to await what would come.

Time passed, and all those within the cavern ceased pretending they engaged in necessary activity. The males sat as they had been, only now their females sat beside them, making no sound save an occasional sob of fear and despair, most seeking the arms of their males in an attempt to find comfort. The torches sputtered in their niches around the cavern, yet it seemed as though the edging darkness had begun an advance, creeping stealthily upon us where we waited. Ceralt had sat deep in thought awhile, yet now he paced back and forth, much like a lenga in a pit, seeking a way out where there was none. His eyes constantly sought the dreaming Lialt, desiring an awakening, seeing naught save the movement of pipe to lips, naught save the emptiness of unblinking eyes. At last he could no longer stand the stretch of endless time, and strode with determination to where his brother sat. Enlisting Telion’s aid, the two began working to rouse him who was called Pathfinder.

Returning Lialt to our presence was not an easy thing. The male resisted all attempts for quite some time, yet at last Ceralt was rewarded with blinking eyes and low, protesting groans, bringing murmurs of relief from all who now stood about watching closely. Only I had been warned away from the area which yet contained traces of the Clouds of Seeing, an unreasonable demand with matters as they stood. Had Ceralt been less foolishly male in his outlook, I might have fetched Lialt forth much the sooner.

“He stirs!” said Famira, who stood by my side. “He has returned to his body and soon will speak to us!”

“Doubtless with words of wisdom,” I murmured, looking about the cavern. Sand and small bits of rock dribbled down from the entrance through which we had originally come, near silent in its descent and small in its beginning. Soon other slides would join the first, perhaps eventually becoming a river, yet there we stood, awaiting Lialt and the salvation he would bring.

“Lialt, what did you see?” demanded Ceralt, holding his brother to a sitting position. “What signs do the Snows send us?”

“I—” Lialt began, then fell to a fit of coughing. When the spasm passed he continued. “I understand naught of what I have seen. There were no signs.”

“How is that possible?” frowned Ceralt, well aware of the mutterings behind him. “The Snows have ever given us signs.”

“It must be this place,” groaned Lialt, fighting from Ceralt’s arm to struggle erect and look about himself. “The Snows are covered with clouds of fog, disallowing all seeing, as though the future may not be. I walked as far as I was able, hoping to pierce the fog, and soon became lost. Had you not roused me, I might never have returned.”

Many cried out at this, male and female alike, and some began weeping with a hopelessness born of self-defeat. Famira, too, moaned with despair, yet how might one consider oneself defeated with life remaining and Mida uncondemning?

“Should we fail to depart soon, none will return,” I called across the cavern to Ceralt, causing him to jerk his head around. “Do you propose to wait till all of the roof has fallen to the floor?”

He and the others followed the direction indicated by my arm, and again gasps and moans of fright echoed about. I was much out of patience with males, and surely this had been heard in my voice. Ceralt gave no more than a glance to the slide, then left Lialt to walk to the center of the cavern.

“Gather up no more than food and drink,” he commanded the others, speaking to them yet looking only upon me. “We must leave here within ten reckid. Jalav, come here to me.”

Famira hurried to do as the others did, frantically and with great misery. I stood where I was no more than a moment, then went to stand before Ceralt as he had commanded. His face showed no expression, yet the light eyes gazing down upon me were cold with anger.

“Again you disapprove of my actions,” said he, his voice menacingly soft. “You are not the leader of this expedition, nor even second in command. Tell me what you are.”

He stood with arms afold, awaiting the words his eyes commanded, yet I could not again profess myself wench beneath a male. Even should he beat me before the others, I was able to speak no more than the truth.

“I am a warrior,” said I, meeting the anger in his eyes. “A war leader of Mida, ever about her business. You may not deny this.”

“I do deny it,” he growled, showing the increase in anger no place save in his eyes. “It is only my business which you may be concerned with—now and forever more. Kneel before me.”

Again I hesitated to obey him, yet there was naught else I might do. Slowly, reluctantly, I went to my knees upon the graveled stone floor before him, nearly feeling the male’s pleasure at my actions and the reluctance behind them.

“Perhaps it now returns to you whose word must be obeyed,” said he, looking down past his folded arms. “Should it be my wish, we shall remain here till this floor is covered with sand and rock. The decision remains mine alone. Now put your brow to the floor.”

Beneath his eyes I did as he commanded, then heard the sound of his footsteps, taking him elsewhere. The fury was high within me that he would treat me so, and I raged silently as I knelt, feeling naught of the stones beneath my knees and head. And then sounds came to me of the movement of others about the cavern, others who saw what Ceralt had done and perhaps paused in their hung to smile. While the male held my word I was bound to him, constrained to obey his every command as though I were the lowest of slave-women, the meanest of females. The flames of rage died to burning coals of shame. So much for the folly of a warrior’s tongue, when speech will bring no smallest taste of glory, no more than a punishment fit for a girl.

Ceralt had decreed departure in two hands of reckid, yet twice the number of reckid passed before I was ordered to my feet and given a large leather sack to cart. My eyes met Ceralt’s as the sack was given me, his stare entering and penetrating to my soul. Perhaps he saw the shame I had felt, perhaps he saw the difficulty I found in continuing to hold his eyes; whichever the truth, a smile touched his lips, faint and thin yet warmer than a grin of satisfaction. His hand came to smooth my hair, then his arm went about me, to lead me to the gaggle of others who stood before the crevasse which led to our only escape. My step did not falter as I walked beside him, yet the thought came again that there were many things one might face which were worse than death.

“The rock slides grow worse with each passing moment,” said Telion to Ceralt as we reached him. Telion was engaged in assisting Lialt, whose dark skin appeared pale from beneath, drained in some manner from within. He seemed stronger than he had been when first awakened, yet the strength of Telion’s arm remained necessary to him.

“We leave now,” said Ceralt, looking about at those who stood and awaited his commands. Each female held a leather sack matching mine, each male wore a sword which had not been so much in evidence earlier. “You men keep your wenches close,” continued Ceralt, still looking about. “The chamber beyond the upcoming corridor will be difficult for them, yet they may do no more than keep close. They may not cling. Should we find it necessary to use our swords, push them behind you and form a circle of protection. Those I have assigned as rear guard may now take up their positions. The rest of you follow me.”

Ceralt took a torch from a nearby male, nodded to Telion, then entered the crevasse. Telion indicated that I was to walk beside him, then he and Lialt followed Ceralt’s path. I, too, followed, as did the others, and soon we trod the stone of the corridor taking us to the chamber beyond, no sound save that of our bootsteps breaking the silence of the rock.

Ceralt paused at the threshold of the chamber, staring within, then immediately continuing toward where the carving stood. We none of us understood the uncertainty of his pause till we, too, stood at the chamber’s threshold; naught save the carving was to be seen, no sign that any other had ever visited the place.

“No more to be seen than traces of fresh blood,” came Ceralt’s voice as he and some others walked about the base of the carving. “Save for that, all that passed might well have been a dream. Where are those who earlier explored this place?”

The males in question came forward to speak with Ceralt, leaving their females clustered about the chamber’s entrance. Each female who saw the carving gasped with shock, even Famira who had seen it before. I merely entered the cavern with Lialt and Telion, looking about myself, keeping my eyes from the carving. All had been decided and naught would keep me from that which awaited; I had only to meet it when it came—and endure.

A crevasse on the far side of the cavern was soon discovered to be the one through which we would pass. Some three of the crevasses possessed corridors behind them, yet these corridors were narrower than that which led to the cavern we stood in, narrower than that through which we would pass. Again were all of our set commanded to follow, again did Ceralt start out before us, again did we hurry along in the flickering of torches.

The second corridor led to a third cavern, much like the first save for the presence of a floor pressed to shininess, beneath which symbols might be seen. No carving brooded from this third cavern and we paused before continuing on, finding it necessary once again to choose from four crevasses which contained corridors. Corridor after corridor we walked, passing chamber after chamber, the hind moving past us with no sign of salvation. Once we paused upon a pressed, shiny floor, seeking sustenance in the sacks we carried, and afterward when we continued on Lialt walked without assistance. Aside from this, all remained unchanging.

Surely the fey without must have been near to ending when we entered another cavern, no different from the others save that its walls bore drawings beneath pressed shininess, just as the floor did. Upon the floor were again unknown symbols, yet the walls were more easily read. Upon one side males knelt before a dark male, one who held a female by the hair, preparatory to using her. Upon the opposite wall stood a golden female, surrounded by other females wearing sword and dagger, all standing above a male who had been staked out for use. So much did the golden female seem like Mida that I stared in wonder, failing to see that the males stared in such a way at the dark male.

“It is undoubtedly Sigurr,” came Lialt’s voice, and I turned to see where he gazed. “We have been moving ever downward in this maze, and now I begin to wonder. Is it possible the Altar we sought was that which was first passed, the chamber with the carven figure? Should we now approach the true base of the mountain, its heart must be above us.”

“I sincerely hope not,” said Ceralt, looking upon the drawing with distaste. “The sole demand about the carven figure was a demand for a female, a gesture I could not repeat even should it mean our end. It is not my way to bargain above female blood. Let us continue on in hopes of finding a more palatable Altar, one where we need only do battle to gain the ear of the god.”

With the other males murmuring assent they turned from the drawing—and every torch suddenly sputtered and went out. Males shouted, females screamed, bedlam reigned till suddenly there was light again, the light of hundreds of torches rather than mere hands of them. The walls we had gazed upon were now gone, the roof no longer immediately above us. We stood in a cavern as vast as a forest, stone sky stretching far above us, stone walls lost in the distance. This there was time to see and little more, for armed males rushed toward us from all sides, obviously bent upon attack. With a shout, the riders formed a circle of defense, backs to those females put behind them, swords out and readied though they knew not what they faced. When the attacking males closed with them the battle was begun, a battle none had anticipated—and none might avoid. Unsurprisingly, it took little time for the battle to be over.