The Crystals of Mida

6 The display—and an escape is planned

I could not bear the enclosure. I sat cross-legged before the metal which pent me up, and stared at those who walked about without. I would have killed without stop, male and female alike, to be free of the enclosure, but my wrists were held behind me with metal, my weapons gone I knew not where. Therefore I could only sit and stare, caring naught for the discomfort I caused in those who read my stare.

“Jalav, what are we to do?” asked Fayan as she sat beside me. She, like the others, felt as I did, a wild, unreasoning desire to be free. A bit larger than three paces by three was the enclosure. We had each paced it off, over and again, in our impatience to be free.

“I know not,” I said, staring from the enclosure. “Yet Mida has not forgotten her warriors. An opportunity shall come.”

Fayan then asked, “How is the pain?”

“It recedes,” I said, straightening a bit. When I had awakened in the enclosure, I had been stiff and sore from that which had been done to me, and filled with fury by it. To treat a war leader of the Hosta so, and then permit her to live, was an insult the like of which had never been given. My battle skill was thus spat upon and dismissed, for these males to care so little for my vengeance. As my warriors and the others of the room slept, I struggled to my feet and held my head high, asking Mida in silence to grant me the favor of a sword in my hand and Bariose armed before me. To send him to Midas chains would be worth my life to me, perhaps even my honor. Those armed males who stood beside the entrance to the room looked upon me, yet did they remain where they were and say nothing. Then I paced off the enclosure before sitting to stare.

Bariose and she called Karil, with a number of males, arrived together. My warriors had already awakened, and sat watching as did I, as the slavewomen were released from their enclosures and set about various tasks. Some saw to a huge metal pot which hung upon an arm of metal above a fire in the wall far to the right, some took large wooden pots of water and cloth rags with which to wash the floors and walls, and some used other cloth, tied about the end of a length of wood, to wash the insides of each of the enclosures. The slavewoman who came with lowered eyes to wash our enclosure paused before us where we sat, raised her eyes slowly to mine, shuddered at what she saw there, grasping the length of wood convulsively, then hurried to the next enclosure. My warriors and I sat as we were, awaiting what would next eventuate.

A terrible odor arose from the pot above the fire, and when those who had seen to the washings had finished, they hurried to the fire with small, round, wooden pots. The small pots were filled by those who tended the huge, metal pot, and the slavewomen washers took the wooden pots to the males and very few females who remained in the enclosures. A hand of pots were brought to us by slavewomen who did not raise their eyes, and these pots were hastily thrust through a long gap in the metal of the enclosure, which was low in the wall to our right. Those females retained in enclosures wore no chains, and therefore raised the pots to their lips, yet the males, chained as we were, knelt before the pots, lapping at what they held like children of the wild. Even had the contents of the pots, a loose mixture of what seemed to be overripe fruit and rotted grain, not been so vile, Hosta would starve before they fed so.

The slavewomen of the pots then partook of the mixture themselves, after which the wooden pots were again collected. I myself felt no regret at their being taken. The odor had been foul enough to fell a gando. Quickly, then, were all of the pots cleaned and restored to that place from which they had come, and the slavewomen hurried to stand before their enclosures, their hands clasped before them, their heads bowed and eyes low. Four of the armed males then approached the females, and took them, some few at a time, through a closed door in the far wall to the left. The males returned each time to fetch further females, yet there was no sign of what befell those who had already gone.

The males came at last to our enclosure, but we were not all taken at once. First Fayan and Larid were taken, the Binat and Comir, and lastly they returned for me. My arms each held firmly in the grasp of a male, I, too, was taken to a large, circular space which held many doorways in its walls, and I was pleased with the doorway they chose. That doorway led to Mida’s light, beneath a sky which sparkled in its blueness. The air was a gift of love to my breath and skin. So delighted was I to be free of walls again that I nearly missed the sight of what awaited me. I struggled in the grips of the males, yet was forced up and within the narrow enclosure, whose door was quickly closed upon me. The space was barely wide enough to turn in and was lifted by thin, metal legs, the height of my knee from the ground. I threw myself against the wall-door of the enclosure, yet were my actions in vain. I stood within an enclosure not a single pace in width and depth, barely high enough for me to stand erect, which would not release me no matter how violent my efforts. Some few of the slavewomen knelt in the grass, before the high wall which surrounded the open area, under the eyes of two of the males, yet all the rest, my warriors included, were pent in enclosures such as that which held me. The sweet air turned sharp in my throat, and sight of the skies filled me with bitterness. It is evil enough to enclose a warrior born to freedom, yet to enclose her beneath the openness of the sky is unspeakably worse. Vile and unspeakable were those of the cities, fit only to die by a warrior’s hand. Silently, I spoke to Mida, and begged that the hand might be mine.

All of us were at last enclosed beneath the skies, then two gates in the surrounding wall were opened, one to either side of the area. Males and slavewomen entered eagerly when allowed to do so, moving slowly from enclosure to enclosure. Some continued past us without pausing, yet many stopped before my warriors and myself, the eyes of the males showing heat, the eyes of the females disapproval. One rounded male, despite the urging of his slavewoman, remained standing before me, his face full of desire, his eyes filled with decision. He raised a hand and made a noise with his fingers, and a moment later, an armed male appeared beside him.

“I would buy this one,” said the rounded male, his eyes still upon me. “I offer two silver pieces.”

“Her price is forty silver pieces,” replied the armed male, grinning. “Could she be had for two, she might long since be found in my own quarters. It stirs a man’s blood merely to gaze upon her.”

“Forty is too much!” protested the rounded male, turning to frown at the armed one. “I am only able to offer five at the most!”

“Forty is her price.” The other shrugged. “Set personally by the High Seat. It shall not be lowered.”

The rounded male turned again to me, his eyes desolate with deprivation. He gazed but a moment longer, then moved away, his slavewoman following after sending to me a hate-filled look. The look amused me, and I smiled, for I would not have had her male even had she begged it. She was welcome to him, such as he was.

Within the enclosures were we kept till the light was at its highest, and many were the city folk who came to stare. Some few males arrived with notice taken by the armed ones, and these males were attended by the slavewomen who had not been enclosed. The slavewomen trailed the males closely, eager to be sent running for drink or wet, sweet-smelling cloth. At times it was they, themselves, the males desired, their bodies touched familiarly as the male strolled from enclosure to enclosure. Each of these found interest in my warriors and myself, yet were they displeased with that which was termed our “price.” One protested that his profit would be too long in coming at such a price, but the armed male with whom he spoke merely laughed. I understood none of what they spoke.

With the light at its highest, those before the enclosure were hurried out of the area, the gates being closed and barred behind them. Then were the slavewomen removed again, those who were unenclosed being taken first. Of my warriors, first were taken Binat and Comir, then Larid and Fayan, I, again, being left to the last. The males led me through the doorway to the large area, but I was not returned to the room of enclosures. In its stead, I was taken to a doorway on the left, where waited she called Karil. The female stood happily, a smile upon her face, her hands clasped joyously before her.

“The display shall be excellent!” said she as I was brought to her, great gladness in her voice. “The brown-tressed ones ringing the group, then they of the red and golden hair closest to the center, and at the center, you, my girl! Those who pay their coppers for the display shall not be disappointed! Bring her in.”

The males followed after the female, stepping carefully to avoid the slavewomen sho sat here and there upon the dark floor cloth, a length of leather running from their collars to circles fast in the floor, which held them in place. The room was perhaps seven paces by seven, hung with golden silks, lit by torches in silver sconces, yet it was worse than the deep place of darkness where we had at first been chained. To the rear of the room were my warriors, and those slavewomen, six in number, who had been kept enclosed while the others had washed and cooked. The slavewomen wept, my warriors fought, yet all were held fast in place by metal and leather. In half circle upon platforms of various heights were they set, three slavewomen to either outside end, all brown-haired and all dressed in long, slavewoman coverings of white cloth, then one at each side, were Binat and Comir, they also being brown-haired, though they had still their clan coverings. Beside Binat was Fayan, beside Comir was Larid, between the platforms of those two, an unoccupied platform which completed the half circle. I, too, fought as I was drawn forward, for each of them, slavewoman and warrior alike, had been placed upon her platform in a manner which invited touch and use by a male. Arms were arranged above heads, wrists set in cuffs, throats tied fast with leather, knees bent at various angles, ankles well apart and secured by other cuffs. With all of my strength I struggled against being placed upon the last of the platforms, yet my strength was not great enough to equal that of the two males. I almost gasped as my back was pressed to the silk covered platform, as leather was drawn about my throat to hold me in place, but I was able to keep silent even as my arms were fastened in cuffs. I kicked at the males when they reached for my ankles, catching one on the chest, with a grunt from him as result, yet nothing else did I accomplish, for I was then closed in the cuffs, unable to draw my legs together.

She called Karil walked about, lifting the covering of two of the slavewomen a bit, moving the hair of Comir and Larid, stopping before me to straighten my life sign. Truly pleased was she as she glanced about, and then she clapped her hands.

“Our patrons shall begin arriving very shortly,” she said to the males who stood about the room. “You may now prepare them.”

She then left the room with head held high, and the males grinned broadly and came forward, nearly two hands of them, to my warriors and me. Three stopped beside me, one of them being he who had said he would have owned me, and they ranged themselves upon either side of the platform. He who had spoken with the rounded male stood alone above me, his hand beside my leg.

“I regret I may not complete that which I now begin,” said he, his eyes hungry and burning, “yet would such a thing mean my life. Perhaps you may sometime be removed from display, and then I shall see to you properly.”

I did not know the meaning of his words, but his intent became apparent. His hand moved from the platform to my leg, his fingers stroking in a long, slow, upward line. As my thigh was reached, I shivered, and then did the other males touch me as well. On my thighs and breasts was I caressed, and so, too, at the center of my being, the intent, perhaps, to drive me insane. Nearly were their intentions realized when, as I moaned in the metal and leather, the males ceased their caresses and walked from me. Though my need was great, I held to myself, and did not cry out when the males stopped beside the slavewomen upon their platforms, and did to them as they had done to us. Small sounds only did I hear from my warriors, for they, too, were Midanna, yet the slavewomen had not such strength to draw upon. They wept as they were touched softly, lingeringly, and then screamed and begged the males to return when they were abandoned. Their screams and tears availed naught, however, for the males did not return to them. The males did each choose a seated slavewoman, and with them did they ease the strain which touching us had put upon them. The sight of this added to the fire in my blood, yet soon had they seen to their need and returned to their places about the room. We upon the platforms writhed in silence or with sobs, for the males had seen to their needs.

Directly had the males finished with the slavewomen, the door to the room was thrown open by one of them to allow the admittance of the female Karil and a large group of males. She led them within the room with a flourish, gesturing about herself.

“A field of flowers, my friends,” said she, “each waiting to be plucked so she may give up her essence. Please feel free to look about yourselves.”

The males, of many sizes and shapes, separated to move about the room, some few looking closely upon the slavewomen who sat upon the cloth. These slavewomen who were so looked upon immediately placed themselves upon their knees, heads bowed, eyes down, their fingers laced before them. She named Karil, however, spent no time on these, moving, instead, to the platforms, her head high, a smile upon her lips.

“These are my best,” she said to the males who stood about inspecting us, her arms sweeping open to indicate the platforms. “My lovelies toward each end may be had for a mere ten silver pieces each, and worth twice that. See how eager they are to please you.”

A male stepped to a slavewoman on her platform, and placed his hand upon her. She writhed at the touch and wept, begging to be taken; and the male laughed. “This one is hot enough,” said he, raising her covering to see the more of her. “I might offer two silver pieces.”

“Impossible,” laughed she called Karil. “I could not part with her for less than eight.”

“Her skin is passably smooth,” mused the male, moving his two hands over the slavewoman, who sobbed with her pain. “Four silver pieces.”

“Come now,” smiled she called Karil, going to the male and placing her hand upon his arm, “think of the pleasure she may give you, being unable to refuse you. She need not even be clad, should that be your wish. Surely six silver pieces is not too great a price for such delights.”

The eyes of the male were still upon the slavewoman of the platform, the tension of his body speaking well of his desire. Again did he place his hand upon her, causing her to weep the louder, then said in a hoarse voice, “Five.”

The female Karil smiled a knowing smile, and then removed her hand from his arm. “I see she does not please you as greatly as she might,” said she, stepping back a bit. “Perhaps you would care to examine my flowers of the carpet? They may be had for as little as a silver piece each.”

As she began to turn away, the male grasped her arm in anger. “Very well!” said he, his lips tight, his eyes flashing. “Six silver pieces! Though did you not speak with the voice of the High Seat...”

“Yet, I do speak so,” laughed the female Karil, and then clapped her hands. “The guard shall release her, and you may have her papers from Bariose, who is also to be given the silver. I wish you much pleasure with your purchase.”

Her head nodded toward the male, then did she take herself off, to join a male who found interest in another of the platform slavewomen. The angry male waited in silence as an armed male released the slavewoman from the platform, first taking the leather which had held her head in place, and knotting it to the circle of the collar she wore. The angry male was given the leather, and once freed, the slavewoman was pulled by the male from the platform, and dragged from the room behind him. She still wept, for she still felt her need, yet had she seemed fearful as well. The angry male could not vent his anger upon the female Karil, yet he would have to express it. The slavewoman would not find her lot an easy one.

Another two of the platform slavewomen were taken by males, then the female Karil came to stand beside a male who stood above me, one who had stood above me for some time, his arms folded across his broad chest, his masculine face entirely without expression. The sight of him had stirred me, yet I had been able to conceal my need. The female Karil smiled at me, then clasped her hands before her.

“Is she not lovely?” asked the female softly, her words very nearly a sigh. “A desirable child indeed, and one who also desires to please.”

The male’s lips moved in the faintest of smiles. “Do you think me blind?” asked he, his deep voice slightly amused. “Those black eyes are not the eyes of a slave eager to please. She has held my gaze as long as I have stood here, not once thinking me her master. She does not feel herself slave.”

“But, of course,” laughed the female, gazing fondly at me.

“It has been left to her master to teach her that she is slave. It shall be a great part of his pleasure with her, yet does she ache to be had by a man. Have you tried her heat? If not, do so, and see that what I say is truth.”

The male’s smile deepened somewhat, and his hand reached toward me, his eyes still holding mine. His touch was that of a male to a slavewoman, and a fury rose with my heat. Was I, a war leader of the Hosta of the Midanna, to be touched so?

“See her eyes now!” laughed the male, his hand still upon me. “She would have my life, were she able to take it! This one is worth the ten you ask. Have her uncuffed and leashed.”

“Alas, my friend, at ten I am unable to do so,” sighed the female, reaching forward to stroke my hair. “Her price is a firm forty, set personally by the High Seat. Is forty too much to ask for such fire and beauty? For the pleasure of teaching her to kneel at your feet, obedient to your will? See how she responds to your touch, and think how great her desire to please would be, should she be denied for a time! Buy her, and make her yours alone!”

The male touched me once again, and then sighed. “I would,” said he heavily. “had I the forty. I would give that and more to own this female. There is no possibility of the price being lessened?”

“At this time, none,” responded the female sadly, her hand still upon my hair. “And I did so wish to see her with the proper master!“ ‘

“I wish but one thing,” said I with difficulty, holding the female’s bright blue eyes with mine. “Should I ever again hold a sword within my grasp, I would wish to see your insides upon the ground before me. Then would my denied desires be fulfilled.”

The female gasped and paled at my words, then she snatched away her hand as she stepped quickly back from my platform, and the male laughed in pleasure. “Filled with fire, indeed,” said he, folding his arms once more. “Should I ever have her price, it would be wise to add the price of a lash to it. She shall not be easily tamed.”

“The ungrateful savage!” snapped the female, her fists held in fury before her. “She shall be punished for speaking so to me, and punished well!”

She then whirled and marched away, her back straight in its long, city slavewoman covering of pink silk. The male watched her go, then turned to me with a grin.

“I fear you shall regret your words, girl,” said he, and then he reached out to touch my breast. “It would be a crime to mark a body such as yours, yet have you great need of the lash. I, in their place, would take care to give pain alone. Hopefully, they, too, shall see the wisdom in such a course of action. Be brave, but learn from the error.”

He then turned from me and left the room, looking briefly at those who sat upon the cloth. My body burned from where his fingers had touched, and the misery was not yet at an end. For many hind did we lie upon the platforms, suffering the stares and touches of those who came to us, but not a one was able to meet the demands of the black-haired female. She had once again become sweet-tempered and friendly, yet was there a coldness in her eyes when she looked upon me, and many were those whom she urged to “test my heat.” I would have tossed about upon the platform had I been able, therefore did I grow to be grateful for the metal and leather which held me. I would not have writhed in my need before her.

The light must have been low when at last the door was closed upon the final males. More than a hand of the slavewomen upon the cloth had been taken, as well as four of the platform females. Comir and Larid, the only ones of my warriors within my sight, seemed as played out as I, myself, felt. I was weary of being bound and touched, and would have taken any opportunity to escape, even had I known that such attempt would be fore-doomed. Far better to be in Mida’s Realm, than to be treated so.

And Mida’s Crystal! How was it to be recovered if I lay there a prisoner, my warriors beyond the walls of the city, the thieves moving ever farther away from the sword of vengeance? And then I recalled what I had told Gimin. A hand of feyd, I had said, wait no longer. Had she obeyed my word? Had the hand already passed? I could not know, yet must the Crystal be recovered! My fate was in Mida’s hands, therefore must my warriors continue in search of the Crystal! I resolved to find some manner in which Larid and Fayan and Binat and Comir might elude those who held us, and thereby see that my word was obeyed. But how? How were they to be freed of the metal upon them?

Long did I think upon the questions, even to the time we were returned to the larger enclosures, yet little had come to me. My warriors must be free of metal and enclosures. However, only those slavewomen who washed and cooked were freed, and of those, only the most attractive to males were freed to the open air. Far more attractive were my warriors than those who had been free, but how were they to be freed to begin with?

I sat in the enclosure, seeing the ache my warriors yet felt—as did I—and feeling upon my wrists the metal which had been replaced before I had been freed from the platform. Larid and Binat sat as I did, their backs against the metal of the enclosure, their legs straight out before them. Fayan walked the enclosure restlessly, as weary as we, yet unable to remain still. Comir sat alone, her face to the metal, her legs folded before her, her shoulders bowed. She had been much disturbed by the happenings of the fey, by the feelings she had been made to feel, by the shame that had touched her. Very young was she, too young, perhaps, to have accompanied me. I should have thought of the dangers, and left her to grow a bit more.

Again were the reeking bowls of mixture brought to us, and again we ignored them, yet this time it was not to go unnoticed. Bariose halted before the enclosure, frowning at the untouched bowls, then he raised his eyes to us.

“Why have you not yet eaten, slaves?” he demanded. “Come here and do so at once!”

My warriors looked to me, and I merely shrugged. “We do not feed upon that which seems trodden under foot,” I informed Bariose. “Nor do we feed as children of the wild, with our arms bound behind us. Should you wish to release us and offer meat, well and good. If not, you may depart.”

“May I, indeed!” said he with cold indignation. “It seems learning comes to you slowly, slave! You shall eat this moment of your own volition, else shall you be fed! Will you eat?”

Calmly I gazed into his angry, dark eyes, and simply said, “No.”

“Very well,” said he, then motioned to him two of the armed males. He raised his hand, indicating me, and said, “Feed her.” Then he turned and walked away.

The armed males looked upon one another, shrugged their shoulders, then entered the enclosure, pulled me to my feet, and removed me. I was held by one of them while the second male fetched one of the hand of pots from within the enclosure. He it was who had spoken to the rounded male in the open area, he also who had been first to touch me. He returned, grinning, with the pot in his hand. “Never before has it been necessary to feed a female slave,” said he, rolling the mixture about in the pot. “It took only the sight of the lash to have them swallow the gruel as though it were their favorite of dishes. I believe, my lovely, that I shall enjoy feeding you a good deal more than I enjoy feeding male slaves. Hold her.”

The first male grasped my hair and pulled, forcing my head back somewhat, then he held my nose closed with his fingers. The second brought the pot to my lips, forcing my jaw open with his free hand, then spilling some of the vile mixture into my mouth. I struggled in their grip, unable to breathe, and then I forced my throat to swallow while holding the mixture in my mouth. He with the pot, thinking I had swallowed the mouthful, released my jaw so that he might pour more of the mixture into me, and then I spat the mouthful back at him, catching his face and spattering his covering. The male jumped back with a shout, too late, by far, to protect himself, and he who held me roared out his laughter, as did my warriors and many of the male slaves. The bespattered male wiped his face slowly with distaste, and flung what had been on him to the floor. His cleared eyes glowered at me as he stood there, and quickly a female slave hurried to him with a moistened cloth. He wiped the mixture from him, then took the pot again and approached me with heavy steps.

“For that, you shall eat this bowlful and a second,” said he, no longer seeming amused. “Would that you were mine to punish as well as to feed!”

He then emptied the mixture into me, allowing no further opportunity for a repetition of what had at first occurred. True to his word, a second pot was brought, and that, too, was forced upon me. I struggled to the last, half suffocated and completely nauseated, yet was there no way of avoiding the mixture. My warriors, too, at the word of Bariose, were fed the vile creation, they, too, struggling as I sat within the enclosure, feeling as though I would lose the whole of it. When all had been fed, again was the chain attached to our collars, and again were we stood at the wall to be wet with pots of water. In truth, we were nearly as badly in need of it as we had been before, the sweat of the fey and the spilling of mixture combining to make a more than unpleasant aroma.

Upon completion of the combing of our hair, again I was separated from my warriors to be taken before Bariose. The female Karil stood beside him, her arms folded in satisfaction, as he once more swung the coiled, covered leather against his leg. They both regarded me as I stood before them, and Bariose gestured with his hand. The two males who gripped me then forced me to my knees, so that I must look upward toward the male and female.

“You are to be beaten, slave,” said Bariose, with a look of stern disapproval. “The beating may be lessened, however, should you show proper regret for your words and actions. You may begin with words of apology for your Mistress here, and then you may address me.”

“Jalav regrets only the loss of her weapons,” I said, aware that again the fire would touch me, and I spoke to Mida in my heart, asking that I be spared the shame of showing weakness before my enemies. “City folk have not the courage to face her in honest battle.”

The male and female were angered at my words, and quickly I was taken to the wall and bound there, my arms high and wide, my wrists gripped tight, my body raised upon my toes, held close to the cool, smooth, pink of the stone. I pressed my cheek to the wall, awaiting the first of it, holding tight to the remembrance that I was a warrior. My back, although uncut, was yet ridged and sore from the earlier efforts of Bariose.

Two hands of fire did I count before darkness claimed me, in great pain, yet unshamed by the utterance of it. Naught do I recall between the last of it and awakening in the enclosure, bound as always, my warriors about me. Movement was agony, my attempts to sit in vain. I lay upon my right side, feeling the sickness and loss of strength; cursing those of the city as I had never before cursed an enemy, and Fayan spoke to me.

“Jalav, they are the spawn of darkness!” said she, her voice low, yet filled with bitterness. “They degrade us by their every action, and beat you as though you were theirs to own! We must escape them!”

“Fayan, you speak truth,” I said with difficulty, attempting in some way to ease the pain; my thoughts were unusually clear. This time, I knew, they had drawn blood, and perhaps it was that that had aided me. “There is something we must try.”

“Attack!” Fayan breathed, the prospect lighting her eyes; Larid, Binat and Comir stirred with pleasure.

“We may not attack,” I said, wishing it were not so. “To die by the swords of the males would be sufficient escape, yet must the Crystal of Mida be remembered. The Hosta must ride in search of it, no matter the fate of their war leader.”

My warriors were silent then, knowing from my words that I would not accompany them. I had realized that such a thing would not be possible, for never would Bariose and the female Karil see me unbound. I would wait to know that my warriors had truly regained their freedom, then would I, with great pleasure, take the remaining avenue of escape to Mida’s Realm.

“We shall make the attempt with the new fight,” I continued, “for, although we cannot see it, we know of its presence when all are awakened. You have seen those slavewomen who walk about in the open, unchained and unenclosed, so that they may accompany males. Upon the new fey, those slavewomen shall be my warriors.”

I explained then how it would be done, which greatly displeased and disturbed them, yet am I war leader, and to be obeyed. When the matter was clear, I bid them rest and remember, and then asked Mida’s blessings in their attempt. Despite the still-burning torches, they were quickly asleep, gathering their strength for the new light. I, too, attempted sleep, unsuccessfully. The pain in my back was not easily ignored, and many thoughts chased each other about in my head. That my warriors would be gone gladdened me, yet did I also feel a coldness that I would be alone, bound among my enemies, perhaps unable to find my own escape. To continue such an existence was unthinkable, but it might happen. My thoughts then went to her who bore me, whose blood I had not been able to avenge. That others would find the vengeance rightfully mine was some comfort, yet how would I face her spirit, should these city enemies succeed in shaming me? I was a war leader of the Hosta of the Midanna, denied the right to die with due dignity. Would they take everything before allowing me release? Where, then, would my soul go, for never then would it belong among those in Mida’s blessed realm! Long did I think upon such matters, and soon was the pain of my back as though naught. The greater pain of confinement fended off sleep.