11 A victor—and a bargain is struck

I knew not how the males of those nether regions knew the time of the fey without seeing the new light, yet know they did—and acted accordingly. True to Chaldrin’s word, the first who came after I had awakened from sleep bore chains with them, thick, ponderous links into which I was placed with a solemn air of finality. I fought the closing of the cuffs about my wrists, yet the three males who had forced me face down upon the fur had little difficulty in completing their task. My arms were shackled behind me, and then the new fey was allowed to begin.

Thrice that fey was the gruel of slaves forced down my throat, each time with much difficulty, yet each time successfully. With the spilled gruel washed from me by slave females and my hair twisted about itself to keep it from knotting, I was then taken to a large chamber already filled with other females and white-clad males. The males removed the pale red hip cloths from the females and the white loin coverings from themselves, and then were we used by the males, turn and turn about, till all had been satisfied. I made no effort to count the number of males who took me, and felt no gratitude that each took care to be somewhat gentle in his use. Though I attempted to recall the despair which would carry me to the final darkness, I was able to find no more than the blaze of fury which lit the burning blood-lust within me. Had I had a sword to hand, I would have slain without stop till all of them lay dead in their own blood.

Thrice, also, was I taken to serve the white-clad males, and between these times was I taken before the bare-bodied fighting males and promised as a gift to him who found victory over the others. Once only did Chaldrin attempt to put his hand to my face with his eyes elsewhere; though the unclad males howled with laughter, Chaldrin made no sound when my teeth sank into his flesh and he found it necessary to force his hand free. I had drawn no more than a small amount of blood, yet was I prepared for the outraged anger the male would surely show. He rubbed the pain from his hand with his dark eyes squarely upon me, brushed lightly at the many-colored circle about his bruised eye, then stepped the closer to me with faint amusement rather than deep anger. His fist came to my hair, and his lips took mine so quickly it was done before I knew what he was about. When the deep, demanding kiss was accomplished to his satisfaction, he turned to the unclad males.

“There is ever a danger in causing a wench such as this to squirm,” said he in a voice which all might hear. “She is reserved for victors by cause of the sharpness of her temper and teeth—and the fact of her helplessness in the arms of a man. She is female, and easily brought to heat—and will not thank you for forcing her to writhe in any manner other than the one I was thanked. Do you wish me to offer you another slave?”

“No!” came the shouts of nearly every male within the area, so loud that I was nearly deafened. And then the laughter came, rivaling the sound of the shout, raising my fury so high that it was nigh unto madness. I fought the chain which held my wrists behind me, and nearly pulled free of the two white-clad males who held me, and Chaldrin no longer showed the amusement he felt. He directed that I be taken from the area of fighting males and left awhile to myself, yet even uninterrupted solitude failed to cool my rage for more than a hin. I smoldered through the rest of the fey, made no comment when I was returned to the chamber I was to pass the darkness in and the shackle was removed, then struggled uselessly when the male Treglin came to claim my use. When he was done and gone and quiet spread throughout the caverns, I left the chamber and attempted escape.

The following fey matched the humiliation of the previous one with pain. Though I had been able to avoid the watchers set over me by Chaldrin the darkness previous, it had proven impossible to pass all of the guards who stood watch upon the corridors between the inner caverns and the outer. The males proved themselves as deaf as all city males, yet even city males will see that which is pushed before their eyes. I avoided some and outdistanced others, yet were there too many ahead of me as well as behind. When I was trapped at last between the two groups, I was taken to the place called the wall of judgment, chained there by the neck, and left for the balance of the darkness. When the unseen new light brought Chaldrin to stand over me, I merely leaned back against the stone of the wall and refused to acknowledge his presence. Chained as I was, bereft of all covering, still did I consider myself unbeaten—and determined to act so. This the male must have seen and understood, and quickly took steps to change the situation.

The second whipping he gave was indeed more painful than the first, and meant to be more humiliating as well, as it was given before nearly every slave in the caverns. Remaining silent during the ordeal was somewhat difficult; afterward I found myself unable to stand, and not solely by cause of the countless strokes to the bottoms of my feet. Waves of pain washed over me as I was carried to a fur in the punishment chamber and again chained by the neck, yet Mida sometimes sees to her own, even in the depths. When the first male came and attempted my use, darkness closed in and removed me from the agony.

Consciousness returned me to the fur in the punishment chamber, and naught else removed me from it for the balance of the fey. Slave females brought pots of warm broth which I was unable to refuse, and white-clad males came without number, this time even more unrefusable than the broth. No salve was vouchsafed me to withstand their use, and all took care not to send me to the darkness again. At fey’s end I was removed from the punishment chamber and returned to my usual place for the darkness, a place I could not stir from even though I tried. I lay upon the fur spread for me, encased in pain, grimly pleased that it had not been deemed necessary to chain me nor set guards over me. Chaldrin thought me sufficiently punished to keep me from again attempting escape, yet was he mistaken. I closed my fist about a handful of old, used fur, and swore to myself that the following darkness, with pain or without, I would again attempt escape. In that I, too, was mistaken; the following darkness, I was given to a victor.

That the entire fey was spent restoring me meant naught till two white-clad males came and chased the slave females from their task. With my wrists chained behind me, a pale red cloth tied about my hips, and a length of leather knotted about my throat, I was led limpingly through corridor and chamber till we came to the corridor which led between the rows of cells. I had not seen the male Chaldrin, and I thought it possible I was to tend Aysayn again, yet we halted a good distance from the cell I had first been taken to. This second cell was untenanted, and when the bolt had been drawn back and the door opened, I was taken within.

“For what reason have I been brought here?” I demanded of the male who held the throat leather. “For what reason . . . .”

“Silence, slave,” interrupted the male, pulling me to the left of the cell door, to the side wall. Once there, I was forced to my knees, the throat leather was brought behind me and looped through the wrist chain, then tied about my ankles to keep me as I had been put. With the leather in place, my hip cloth was straightened and my hair spread out all about, and then the male stepped back to survey his handiwork.

“What think you, Falisan?” said he to the male who awaited without. “Think you Vanadin will find pleasure in the sight of his waiting gift?”

“He will do more than find pleasure in the sight of her,” chuckled the other, leaning one hand upon a line of metal. “So wild was he for the use of her, he attempted to refuse having his wound seen to.”

“To be willing to bleed to death for the use of a wench,” sighed the first, turning to leave the cell. “I remember the feeling well, and am inordinately pleased to have it no more than a memory.”

“And I,” said the second, throwing the bolt after the first was once more in the corridor. The two cast me a final glance and retraced their way up the corridor, where soon even their steps faded to naught.

I found I was able to pull at the leather with my chained wrists, yet freeing it from about my ankles was totally impossible. It was clear from the words of the males that I had been won by the first of their fighters, and the thought of the thing brought my fury on with such strength that the red mist of battle lust nearly floated before my eyes. I, who had won countless battles, was to be given to a male who had triumphed but once! Again I struggled where I knelt, bruising my knees through the thin hip cloth, yet no more came of it than one would expect. The single torch flickered and burned upon the wall, the stale, heavy odor of many males came to me, the silence dinned upon my ears; I remained bound and kneeling where I had been placed, awaiting the arrival of a victor.

The sound of footsteps was not long in coming. Surely had I expected them to be hurried, yet no more than a steady pace brought two males, one white-clad, one without covering save for a length of white cloth bound about his left arm. He who was unclad was light of hair, with light, burning eyes which held to me throughout his approach and the opening of the cell. He entered slowly, this large, lean fighter covered with scars, and stopped before me where I knelt, to stare for a long, silent moment. Then he crouched and reached his hands out to the cloth at my hips, untied it and allowed it to fall from me, and lastly reached between my thighs.

“Indeed are you worth the pain and effort you cost,” he murmured, continuing to touch me till I could no longer kneel without movement. “Your dark, lovely eyes say you cannot be tamed, yet will I teach you differently throughout this darkness. You will weep and call me master, and beg to give me whatever pleasure I wish. By the blood I have spilled and the blood I have shed do I swear to conquer you.”

The white-clad male in the corridor chuckled and departed; those other unclad males later brought one by one to their cells also found amusement in my presence. He who crouched before me showed no amusement, not then and certainly not throughout the darkness. When the white-clad ones came with the new fey to remove me from the cell, even they lost their amusement.

“It can only have been his vow,” said the white-clad male, a weariness to his voice. “I recall I laughed when I heard it, after I brought him to his cell.”

“I find naught at which to laugh,” growled Chaldrin, bending over me. “What sort of vow might he have made, to do this wench so?”

“He vowed to conquer her,” sighed the other, stirring where he stood. “He swore that she would call him master and pleasure him at his bidding. With this one— Perhaps he was unable to keep his vow.”

“Perhaps!” spat Chaldrin, straightening and turning the glare of his anger upon the other. “Have you no wits, man? Have you not seen the stubbornness of this wench? It was mindless to have left her there after hearing Vanadin’s vow, left with no thought for what he might do! Where were your wits?”

“Perhaps they were with yours, Chaldrin, when you spoke to the fighters of her need to be tamed,” replied the male, quiet bitterness in his tone. “Had I known Vanadin would savage her, I would not have left her with him. I, in his place, would merely have enjoyed her. Perhaps I should have paid closer heed to his vow—and perhaps you should not have given such a challenge to the fighters.”

A silence came, one during which no more than breathing was to be heard, and then Chaldrin sighed.

“The fault is indeed mine,” said he, all anger drained away. “I, too, would not have responded to such a challenge in such a way, yet it is now clear that Vanadin’s sort would do no other thing. Go and see why the medications have not yet been brought.”

“Chaldrin,” began the other, yet the male refused to hear his words.

“Go!” he thundered, and when the sound of footsteps had left the chamber, he again crouched beside me. “Do you sleep, wench?” he asked very softly, putting a gentle hand to my hair. “Or is it merely that Sigurr, in his kindness, lends you some portion of his blessed darkness?”

“Neither,” I whispered, spending the effort to raise my arm so that I might push his hand away. I made no attempt to open my eyes, however, for in some manner the light seemed to increase my pain.

“We will soon have the pain eased,” he ventured, making no attempt to touch me a second time. “It was not my intention to have you beaten nearly to death. This was not foreseen, and will surely not occur again.”

I lay as still as possible upon the pile of furs added to that which had been mine feeling the ache that simple breathing brought echoing the deep pain from blows to body and face, twists of fingers in flesh, use without care or end. Jalav had been taught what came from association with males, yet Jalav, ever a fool, had not yet learned to shun their company. Males would be the death of Jalav, and surely that would see the problem solved.

“Do you hear me, wench?” asked Chaldrin. “You have my word that this will not occur again.”

“And you have my word,” I breathed, the whisper trembling from the pain of speech. “Should I ever succeed in escaping this accursed hole, I will find a sword and return to seek you. I will have your life, male, immediately after I have that of the female Ladayna. Though you be Sigurr’s, I will not allow him to deny me your life.”

A whirling illness came to my middle then, undoubtedly caused by the vehemence of my vow. I should not have allowed fury to take me with such weakness and pain abounding, yet Jalav continued to be a fool. I twisted to one side, prepared to clear the fur if I could not hold back the heaving swell behind my gullet, yet there was happily little within me to demand exit. After a moment I again lowered myself to the furs, shamefully voicing a small groan for the pain. I immediately looked to where Chaldrin had crouched, certain he would show ridicule for my weakness—yet Chaldrin was no longer there.

The slaves came with their salves and liquids and promised compassion, but they were required to stand aside till Treglin touched me all over, searching for cracks within to match the bruises without. The probing was necessary yet agonizing, and by the end of it I swam in a sea of swirling dark and many-colored pain. Two of the slaves wept as they tended me, this do I remember, yet little else of the time. A liquid was spilled down my throat which first caused me to choke, then caused me to sleep.

Upon awakening, I felt that a good deal of time had passed. I moved about upon the furs, determining which of the pain remained and which had fled, then lay still again. I could not move with sufficient ease to attempt escape again, yet when all the pain had gone, I would undoubtedly be given to another male or males, to reward them for having survived a battle. A slave female brought provender and timidly urged me to feed, but I turned my back upon her and sent all thought from my mind. It had been a considerable time since I had last called upon Mida for aid and solace, and I did not do so then. I merely mourned the fact that I could not.

The slave female left the board of provender and departed, yet only a few moments of solitude were vouchsafed me. I heard the sound of footsteps, clearly not those of a slave female, and then a hand touched my shoulder.

“You will not be allowed to refuse nourishment, slave,” came the voice of Treglin, disapproval clearly to be heard. “You must heal and grow strong again, and this cannot be accomplished without food.”

“I am to assist in healing and growing strong, so that I might be used again?” I asked, making no effort to turn to face him. “Jalav may be a fool, male, but is she scarcely so great a fool as that.”

“Wench, you are a slave,” said the male, his hand tightening somewhat upon my shoulder. “What was done to you was regrettable in that you were damaged, yet was it naught that a slave might not expect. You will indeed be healed and strengthened so that you may be used again, for you are far too valuable to lose for all time. Far too valuable a slave.”

Though the overall ache I felt was scarcely an aid toward glowing dignity, I turned to my back and gazed up at the crouching male as a war leader might look upon a foolish warrior.

“Jalav is no slave,” said I, uncaring that I lay bare and nearly helpless before him. “Jalav is a warrior, born to be no more than captive to males, sworn to give no aid to her enemies, no matter the pain they inflict. Speak of me as a slave if you will, male, yet the truth will not be changed by words. I will accept naught save freedom from my enemies, that or an agreement to face me in challenge. How will you have it?”

“Not as you do,” said he with a headshake, his darkly browed eyes continuing displeased. “A man need not waste his time answering the challenge of a slave wench, one who knows not what she speaks of. Those of us who dwell in this domain are not as easily met as you apparently believe. You, slave, will eat the food brought you of your own accord, else will the slave gruel be fed you. Were the decision mine, even this choice would not be given you, yet does Chaldrin wish that food rather than gruel be fed you. With the gruel your recovery will be slower, yet will it come sooner or later.”

“Neither chains nor gruel will assist you, male,” said I, continuing to hold his gaze. “Come the fey I have weapon again in hand, your life will be mine no matter the recovery—or lack of it—that I have made.”

“It is impossible to speak with one who is totally beyond all reasoning,” said the male, rising from his crouch. “I will inform Chaldrin, and arrange for the gruel to be brought.”

He turned then, and left the chamber without a backward glance. Anger burned within me, a near-fury which threatened to consume me with lack of venting, yet there was no manner in which I might satisfy it. I struggled about to sitting upon the fur, thinking to use pain to dampen the flame, and a slave female entered and halted briefly in startlement. I knew her as the taller, thinner slave who had first accused the male slave upon my arrival, she who had been first to be beaten of the two; she looked upon me where I sat leaning upon one arm, my other hand to my middle, and slowly moved the closer.

“I am to take this tray of food from you now, sister,” said she, her voice and odd smile striving for soothing gentleness. “Allow me to assist you in eating from it first, and should they ask, I will say I, myself, ate from it. No one need know save we two, and I shall certainly not speak of it.”

“One does not feed from the provender of one’s enemies,” I said, taking a breath as I arched my back. My muscles strongly protested such a movement, yet was I determined to recover all strength before the males knew of it.

“In no manner am I your enemy, sister,” said the female, bringing herself to kneel upon the fur before me. “I feel naught save deep admiration and love for you, a love which would give you great comfort. Allow me to comfort you in your pain, sister, and show how great my love is.”

Her voice, low and coaxing, lulled me, yet her hand upon my thigh brought an instant return of fury. Without pausing for thought, my left hand took her right and twisted, and my right hand gripped her throat with a strength which caused her to pale and gasp.

“So you, too, think to use me,” I growled, bending her painfully down to the fur. “Without a weapon I may do naught with these males, yet I have no need of a weapon with one such as you. You were foolish to think I might be used with impunity, slave. ”

“I did not mean you harm, sister!” begged the female in a choking voice, her eyes filled with fear as her hand strove ineffectively to loosen my grip upon her throat. “It is no more than fitting that we who are used so brutally by men should take comfort in each others arms! Were we ones who lived with none save sisters about, such a doing would be commonplace!”

“Such a doing would be idle,” I denied, feeling little pity for her lack of understanding. “To have a sister to speak with, to hunt with, to have at one’s back in battle, yes; yet, to take a sister in one’s arms? To what purpose? One cannot increase one’s clan in such a way, nor may one find the strength and hardness which brings joy to a warrior. To prefer a sister to a male strong with seed is to bring disaster upon one’s clan. A warrior lives for the glory of her clan in Mida’s eyes, a thing which might not be achieved without new, young warriors to replace those fallen in battle. My true sisters find comfort in their place before Mida, and have no interest in the sort which you offer, nor have I. Take yourself from me, slave, and do not return.”

“An excellent recommendation,” said a voice as I released the female, and we both turned to see Chaldrin standing within the doorway of the chamber, his leather-bound wrists hidden beneath his folded arms. The slave I had released quickly and tremblingly put her head to the floor, and Chaldrin came closer to look grimly down upon her.

“Again good fortune attends you, slave,” said he to her. “Had you attempted this other slave at a time when her temper was high, she would surely have ended you rather than merely frightened you. Return to your duties without delay, and perform them with this final thought in mind: should I ever find you attempting to force yourself upon one of your sisters, the manner of your ending will not be as swift and pleasant as that which you would have found at this one’s hands. Though this has been told you before, it will not be told you again. Now, go.”

The trembling female rose to her feet and attempted to take the board of provender she had come for, yet Chaldrin stood himself before it and gestured her away without it. When she had fled in misery from the chamber, the male turned to me.

“Treglin has told me that you again refuse the food I have sent,” said he, crouching down to send me his dark-eyed consideration. “My brother feels that there is naught we may do save pour the slave gruel within you, yet I do not agree. I believe that you will eat the food, and of your own will.”

“Your brother sees more clearly than you, male,” said I, moving slowly till I sat cross-legged upon the fur. “Jalav does not partake of the offerings of enemies.”

“Not even so that you might face them with weapons?” said he, his stare unwavering. “The slave Jalav would make a poor showing against me as she now is, thin and weak and growing ever weaker. The gruel would do little to improve this.”

“I am to believe that you would face me?” I scoffed. “You, whose litany is that I have not yet earned the right? Do you think me so gullible as to believe that the opportunity would be given me once I had done that which you wished?”

“You will have my word upon the matter,” said he, a stiffness to be heard in his tone. “And above that, there will also be the bargain we agree to. The bargain without which there will be no meeting.”

“So you seek again to bargain,” said I, straightening myself a bit where I sat. “What is it that you this time wish to offer me?”

“Woman, you do not now sit in a council, with power aplenty behind you,” he growled faint anger beginning to fill his eyes. “The reason I offer anything at all is beyond even my understanding, and will not be continued forever. Should I agree to allow you to face me, you will also agree that your defeat will require you to pledge yourself as a full slave, to obey without question all commands given you, just as the other slaves do. There will be no further attempts at escape, and you will freely pleasure any man you are sent to. For this, I will have your word upon the matter.”

I considered the male in silence for a moment, understanding at last the reason for his bargaining, then allowed myself a faint smile.

“And should victory be mine?” I asked, knowing the male considered no such eventuality. “If I am bested, I will be bound to you in full slavery, yet naught has been said concerning the possibility of my besting you. Should such a thing occur, I will then demand full freedom. Do you agree?”

“Your offer seems reasonable,” nodded the male, sharing my faint smile. “The opposite of full slavery is indeed full freedom, therefore do you have my word upon the matter on both points. And you?”

“l, too, will gladly give my word.” I smiled, then spat upon the back of my hand. He immediately duplicated the gesture, and we pressed the backs of our fists together, binding the agreement. With this done, the male twisted about and drew the board of provender nearer to my fur.

“You may begin to uphold your end of the bargain with this,” said he, gesturing to the provender. “Now that we have come to agreement, I would see us meet as soon as possible.”

“And I,” I nodded, reaching toward an overdone cut of nilno. “Come the new light, we shall face one another.”

“Come the new light after the next new light,” said he, rising to his full height. “And then only if you are fit to hold a weapon. I will not have you believe you were bested by cause of your own lack of fitness. I wish you a hearty appetite.”

He then turned and quit the chamber, wrapped in the satisfaction I, myself, felt. No other save a male would be foolish enough to allow a Midanna war leader the opportunity of reclaiming her full strength before facing her, yet were these indeed males who knew no better. It was now to be my pleasure to teach them better, and teach them I would. I chewed upon the cold, grease-covered, overcooked nilno, and vowed to Mida that I would.

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