To Battle The Gods

13 Battle—and a vow is kept

The new fey began before first light, all being prepared and awake despite the sleep we had forced upon ourselves. The previous fey had been filled with discussions and meetings and questions and demands, so many that our heads all swam from the din of it. Aram and Kira had been as frenzied as we, arranging for the transportation necessary to bring our fighting force to Sigurr’s Peak, and then speaking of it in explanation before those who had been chosen to stand against the Feridani. Those who rode to Ranistard had no need to be told of what lay before their brothers and sisters, which was much of a blessing. Had the number of confused questions asked been doubled, likely would we all be there to this very fey in their answering. Much falar and daru flowed down the throats of all, which was a considerable aid when we at last sought out sleeping leather and furs.

Just before the six giant vehicles called shuttles was the smaller vehicle called scout ship to go, a vehicle which was to protect its larger sisters. Upon this ship device were the wonders which would stand our protection, and also those of us who would lead the attack. Aysayn and myself, Mehrayn and Ceralt, Lialt and Galiose and S’Heernoh, Aram and Kira and the roundish male called Doctor. At his own insistence was the roundish male included in our set, to aid us, so he said, should injury befall us. We all allowed his insistence, but I saw to it that he, along with Aram and Kira, would follow far behind those who were to do actual battle. We would likely have need of what healing skill the roundish male possessed, and best was to place him where his skill and life would not be taken by a well-swung weapon.

It disturbed me somewhat that we who led would all be within that single vehicle, therefore did I speak with my war leaders and the surrogates who accompanied us, informing them of what they must do should their war leader fail to be there to enter battle with them. Grimly were my words listened to and silently put away against need, yet would none of them consider nor discuss such an eventuality. We would all of us arrive together to face the enemy who challenged us, and together would we find victory. We all of us knew that the protection given us by the stranger folk might prove insufficient against the wonders of the intruders, yet we did not countenance that. We would bring battle to the intruders even were we entirely unprotected from their wonders, therefore was there naught to think upon.

We all stood silently at the edge of the new fey beside our smaller vehicle, watching as those who were to journey with us filed slowly aboard those larger vehicles called shuttles. Four of the six would return for the balance of our fighting force, and bring them after us as quickly as they were able. Thick was the silence surrounding both Midanna and Sigurri, heavier than what might be accounted for by battle-readiness, all likely as wrapped in their own thoughts and concerns as we who watched their boarding. Sooner would I, myself, have seen us upon kand or gandod, yet kand or gandod would not carry us as swiftly as the stranger vehicles, therefore had we had those who rode to Ranistard take our mounts from the city. Those mounts would be loosed a short distance from Bellinard to run where they willed, and upon our return would we seek them out and reclaim them. Those of us who returned. Were any to return.

“I like this not,” said Galiose of a sudden in a mutter, looking with displeasure upon the vehicles which were then being boarded by warriors, and also upon that which was ours. “We know naught of these folk, yet do we give our lives and safety into their hands, trusting them to refrain from betrayal. Should we not think this through at greater length?”

“The doing has already been thought upon by those capable of thought,” said I, my words and the annoyance of my tone bringing his gaze quickly to me. “Should the strangers have wished our lives, they would not have allowed no more than half our number upon this journey. Those who ride to Ranistard guard us with their very existence, for should we be slain by these folk, it is they who will avenge us. Should Galiose not care to risk himself, he is free to ride elsewhere.”

“Indeed,” said the dark-haired male, drawing himself up in insult at my words and tone, his half-shadowed form stiffened. “And how are those others to learn of our true fate? Should they be told we were all of us slain by those called Feridani, how are they to know otherwise? Do you mean to have your shade return and inform them?”

“The matter has already been seen to,” said I, my annoyance with the foolishness of the male growing. “Should Galiose have the stomach to board the vehicle with the balance of us and in such a manner find the end of his feyd, he need have no fear that his betrayal shall go unavenged. Those who ride to Ranistard are Midanna and Sigurri, not village or city folk.”

Galiose stiffened yet further in outrage, though more, I believed, at thought of those who rode toward his city than from the insult I had so deliberately given. The male had not learned of the destination of our other half till they had already departed the city, and wildly had he then shouted and strode about, one moment determined to ride after his returning males to give them warning and hurry them in their return, the next moment realizing that were he to do so, those of us journeying to battle the Feridani would be long gone upon his return to Bellinard. As I had chosen not to speak of the many and detailed instructions given both Midanna and Sigurri concerning what their actions were to be were we others reported slain by the Feridani, the male had grown outraged. Galiose had chosen to remain and enter battle against the enemy rather than ride in the wake of his males, yet was he filled with a great unhappiness which he wished to share with those about him.

“Should we all survive this thing, you will regret having sent fighters against my city, wench,” he growled low, the heat of the fury within him sufficient to warm the cool of the new fey dimness, his dark eyes looking down upon me. “My men rode here in obedience to my commands, and to know they will return to find their wenches gone is more than I am able to bear. Never shall I countenance betrayal.”

“Betrayal such as taking and holding warriors against their will?” I asked, grimly pleased that Galiose knew full well that those I had sent would not fail in their task. “To lose what one never truly possessed is no loss, merely a correcting of previous error. Galiose would do well to be pleased that it is not Jalav who leads the riders against his city. Were it Jalav who led, there would also be no city for his males to return to.”

The male fell silent in order to struggle more effectively with his rage, therefore did I turn from him and walk toward where Aram and Kira stood, the words they exchanged low and filled with new-warrior upset. I smiled faintly to see them so, and also at the manner in which their attention came immediately to me.

“Those who accompany us are nearly all within their vehicles,” said I, speaking softly so as not to add to their anxiety. “Should we not do the same with ours?”

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” said Kira with a shiver, wrapping her arms about herself. “I’m cold even in this uniform. I don’t know how you and the others can walk around practically naked and not feel it, Jalav. I’d be frozen stiff and blue from head to toe.”

“The air here is no more than somewhat cool,” I returned with a widened smile, seeing the manner in which Aram quickly placed an arm about the female. “Sigurr’s Peak is truly cold, and we shall none of us be covered during the moments we will require to enter the first of the caverns. Perhaps Kira would do well to remain behind in the vehicle.”

“And not be there to help?” demanded the female, nevertheless shuddering faintly at the thought of greater cold. “If the rest of you can stand it, so can I. ”

“You can be of just as much help from the scout,” said Aram, looking down upon her with concern. “That instrumentation needs constant monitoring for the first sign of flux or interference cancellation, and the scout crew will have other things to do beside that. It might be a good idea to make that your post.”

“Aram, don’t you dare start getting that look!” snapped Kira at once, bristling at the near-determination in the voice of the male. “If you think I’ll let you shut me out of this, you’re . . . . ”

“Now, now, no one’s shutting you out, assistant Leader,” returned the male with a smoothness to the words which belied their meaning, turning Kira about to the ramp they stood before. “Let’s get aboard the scout, and we’ll discuss it. Jalav, why don’t you collect your people and get them seated. We’ll be back with you in a minute.”

The two stranger folk climbed the ramp together, Kira speaking low with great intensity, the male called Doctor following silently, smiling, Aram nodding soberly to the words addressed to him. There was, however, an air about Aram which suggested complete dismissal of all which he heard, truly a doing for one who was male. Had Kira been needed in our number I would have interceded on her behalf; however we did not need the small stranger female, which seemed fortunate indeed. As I turned about to gesture toward those who were to board the small vehicle, I knew without doubt that Kira would be made to do as Aram wished.

No more than a moment saw the balance of us mounting the ramp, and once within did we return to the place of seats. The dimness within was brightened by that stranger light which seemed never to wane, and Lialt and Galiose looked about at the dark metal of walls, floor and ceiling with something akin to awe. Indeed was there greater warmth within—as well as the smell of metal in the air—and truly would I have preferred the cool to be found without.

“Our journey is soon to begin, lady war leader,” said S’Heernoh, nearby. “It will be, I am told, of very short duration. Are you as prepared to stand beside me as I am to stand beside you?”

I looked upon the male who paced me along the metal corridor, his usual amusement as clear as the sword he now wore belted about him. In no manner did the weapon which hung between us seem awkward or misplaced, yet was I scarcely pleased to have it so.

“S’Heernoh is not Chaldrin no matter the supposed skill of the Sigurri he bested,” I said, the sourness in my tone doing little to dent the amusement of the male. “Perhaps I should have seen to the thing myself.”

“To keep me from joining you,” said he with a shade less satisfaction, his dark eyes unmoving from my face. “Is my presence so abhorrent to you, then?”

“It is your slaying which I shall find abhorrent,” I returned, making no effort to avoid his gaze. “Despite his constant prying—and his lack of willingness to give pleasure to a war leader—the death of the male S’Heernoh would be a loss to this warrior.”

“Then I shall not allow myself to be slain,” said the male, pleasure filling him full and shining forth from his eyes, his hand coming without thought to gently smooth my hair. “Truly do I have adequate sword skill, lady, although I am indeed not the same as Chaldrin. To face you as he did is a thing I would not find myself able to do.”

“There are, in such an event, others who might be faced,” came the calm tones of Mehrayn from behind. S’Heernoh and I had halted just before the first of the seats, and at the sound of the words we turned about in surprise. Standing there were Mehrayn and Ceralt, neither male looking well pleased.

“To fall now to the lure of the wench would be ill-advised,” said Ceralt to S’Heernoh, his light eyes hard despite the softness of his words. “Your strength so far has been commendable, man; best would be that you continue as you began. ”

“My debt to you is great, S’Heernoh,” said Mehrayn, “yet not so great that I would see the wench by your side rather than mine by cause of it. As Ceralt has said, such commendable wisdom as you have so far shown should wisely be continued.”

“The war leader and I discussed survival in the battle before us, my friends,” said S’Heernoh with an odd lack of his usual amusement as I stiffened in badly contained fury. “Is this what you would have me keep from? A discussion upon survival?”

Indeed did S’Heernoh look upon the other two males with something like sternness, and unbelievably Mehrayn and Ceralt grew discomforted beneath that dark-eyed gaze. Much did they begin to shift about as a child might beneath the stare of a warrior.

“Should that have been what you discussed, there was little need to touch her,” muttered Mehrayn, attempting to recapture calm control. “A man begins by stroking her hair, and then continues on to stroking her in an entirely different manner. ”

“That she refuses you both brings great pain and uncertainty, does it not?” asked S’Heernoh, his eyes and tone this time filled with quiet compassion, his gaze touching each male in turn. “You must not allow yourselves to see rivals everywhere, my friends, else shall you lose your sanity before the difficulty reaches any sort of settlement. When this battle is done, we will all of us turn our attentions to that settlement. ”

“Likely my sanity will not survive so long a time,” said Ceralt, also in a mutter, one hand stroking through the dark of his hair, the look upon Mehrayn saying the same. “I cannot bear the thought of losing her, yet do I see her slipping further from my grasp with each passing reckid. Perhaps the battle itself will end the difficulty—in one manner or another.”

The eyes of the two males came to me then, each set filled with yearning, each set bidding me farewell should they not survive what was to come. Much did I yearn to go and hold each of them about, to ease some of the pain within me, however I was a war leader with a battle still to fight. Instead of indulging in the behavior of a fool, I quickly turned away from them and sought a seat for the journey soon to be begun, my mind whirling with that which I had no wish to consider. When S’Heernoh quietly took the seat beside mine, I was no more than faintly aware of it.

The male Aram joined us in the place of seats, no other than the roundish male accompanying him, and the two aided us in binding ourselves to the seats we sat in. When they, too, were seated and bound so, the brief vibrating of the vehicle came, and then the silence of a journey begun. I sat in my seat held by chains of cloth, and abruptly knew what I traveled toward. She who had called herself Mida, she who had brought me such pain and humiliation and shaming, would soon be before my blade. The intruder female who had thought to best me would soon have opportunity to see how well her wonders would fare against the edge of a sword—and perhaps would live long enough to regret having challenged me. I put my head back against the softness of the seat and allowed myself a smile in anticipation of the pleasure I would not permit to elude me.

Short indeed was the time before the vibration came again, informing us that we had reached our destination. So difficult was it to believe, that we had traversed many and many feyd of distance in a mere portion of a hin, yet such was the way of wonders. Lialt seemed uncertain and Galiose truculently disbelieving as we freed ourselves and arose, yet were they both distracted by the first words of Aram.

“Please remember that we can’t take our time disembarking,” said he to all of us, looking from one face to another. “It’s going to be really cold out there, and we’ve got to move as fast as possible to get ourselves into the first of the heated caverns. I still wish we could have taken the time to get you all properly protected, but— Just remember not to stop until you’re well inside.”

The nods of fervent agreement coming from Ceralt and Lialt matched mine, for surely did we three recall the last occasion of our arrival at Sigurr’s Peak. The snow and cold were indeed to be left behind as quickly as possible, a thing the others with us would soon learn.

Aram led us back to the place where we had entered the vehicle, a place which had not yet been opened to the cold without. First was it necessary that we take stranger torches to light our way, torches which glowed without burning, ones which, we had been told, would continue to glow till we had no further need of them. So light and small were these torches that we each were able to cant one with ease, although Aram had another thing to carry in place of a torch. Small was the device, little larger than the torches which had been given us, yet was there a small, calm green light to be seen upon it. As long as the green light continued, had said the male, there was naught to concern us; should the light go to red, however, we were then to prepare ourselves for serious battle indeed.

“We’d better get started,” said Aram when we each had been given a torch, moving through our ranks to the panel beside the door. “Remember now: out and in as fast as you can.”

We none of us commented upon the manner in which the male unnecessarily repeated that which had already been said, for his agitation was clear. Though he behaved well for one who was unused to battle, his fretfulness spoke eloquently of the nervousness which held him.

A touch began the opening of the door, and although the thing opened no more slowly than it had upon our arrival in Bellinard, much did it seem that some mishap had occurred with the mechanism. Far too leisurely did the opening before us begin to appear, for the great cold, even worse than I remembered it, sought and found immediate entrance. Soon we were able to see the snowstorm, and no longer did Aram’s continued cautioning seem overdone. Much did the storm-cold sap the ability for speed from my body and bring my mind the wish to curl up, yet might such a thing not be allowed. Despite vast reluctance I waited no longer than till the ramp was fully extended, then did I plunge down it into the storm and the mounded snow, thinking of nothing to save the caves perhaps three gandod strides before me.

Had the distance been greater, we likely would not have survived to enter the caverns. Beyond imagination and description was the cold of the snow, the storm swirling heavy flakes all about me, the footing treacherous and slowing, even the metal of the torch I held seeking to draw the life from out of me. I ran though I scarcely knew where I ran, and when the dark of the entrance cavern surrounded me, I merely thumbed the switch upon the torch as I had been shown to do, and plunged deeper within with all the speed I possessed. Some of the others ran in my wake and S’Heernoh had continued to pace me, yet were we unable to halt and look upon one another till we had reached that place where the outer cold was negated by inner warmth. As large and dark and brooding as it had first been was that cavern, and my shuddering was only partially from the cold which we had so recently passed through.

“Sigurr protect me from learning any further truths such as that,” said Aysayn in a panting gasp, the light-haired male seeming shaken. “That, I take it, wench, was the snow you spoke of, and humbly do I ask your forgiveness for having doubted you. The thing must indeed be seen to be believed.”

“Have we all made it through all right?” asked Aram, looking about our group as he came up assisting the roundish male. All of us were wet from the storm and still trembling and gasping from the run through the cold, yet had we all survived and arrived where we were meant to be. Despite their coverings did the two stranger males seem more shaken than we, therefore was it left to me to speak upon what needed to be done.

“There are true torches to be found at the foot of the walls,” I said, shaking my head to rid my hair of clinging snow. “Best would be that we light them now, against the arrival of the others.”

“Indeed,” said Ceralt. “Let those of us with boots see to the task. I remember well the sharpness of the stones upon this floor, therefore shall you and the others walk upon it as little as possible. Lialt, begin at that side if you will, and I shall see to this one.”

“And I’ll take the wall with the openings,” said Aram as Lialt nodded at Ceralt’s command, the stranger male glancing briefly upon the device he held. “If we get, very, very lucky, I won’t have much of anything else to do.”

“See that you keep well away from the openings,” said I to Aram as the males started off to see to their respective areas. “We would all of us be ill-advised to enter them save with our full force.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t find any heroes in this uniform,” said Aram over his shoulder with a sound of ridicule, the words clearly meant to reassure me. “When the time comes, one of you others can have the dibs. ”

“Shall the fey ever come when his words are filled with understanding?” asked Aysayn, looking after Aram with something of amusement. “What are we to do now that the small female is no longer beside him?”

“Perhaps best would be to cease addressing him,” said I, sharing Aysayn’s amusement. “Then we need no longer spend the effort in attempting to decipher his meaning. One must save one’s strength when there is battle in the offing.”

Aysayn’s chuckle came in agreement, yet did the amusement soon abandon both of us. The cavern pleased me no more than it had when I had first seen it, yet was I this time not alone in feeling so. S’Heernoh stood nearly atop me, not laughing this time, and also did Mehrayn contrive to be within a step of me. Ceralt, when he returned, hovered close as well, and Aysayn looked about with fingertips dancing lightly upon sword hilt. All were in some manner uneasy, and scarcely by cause of what we were about to attempt.

The first of our warriors arrived not long after our own arrival, cold, wet, and panting from the rain, yet were they silent as they had been commanded to be. I forced my way through the males who stood about me, walking carefully to spare my feet, then gave those warriors their next instructions. With the aid of the first did those who followed find their places without difficulty, places which filled the cavern from the side wall across and front outward, a formation which provided the least amount of shifting about. Although Aram’s device was meant to take the sound from our presence and warn us against detection, it was necessary to remember that ears were devices in their own right. Should a follower of the intruders hear movement and converse where none was expected, what benefit then in wonders which silenced others?

When all those who had been within the six vehicles were within the cavern, we stood in continued silence awaiting the arrival of the last of our force. As large as the cavern was, it became necessary to begin our movement through the crevasse which led to the chamber of the carving of Sigurr, nearly to that chamber yet short of it. The long, wide corridor beyond the crevasse could hold many warriors, allowing those remaining in the cavern a bit more standing room, yet was I unable to continue on into the chamber to complete the wait. I had deliberately allowed memory of the male intruder to slip from me but it had returned with the return to his realm, and I found myself distracted and nearly distraught. No more was I able to keep from pacing about with left hand to hilt than I was able to halt the pounding of my heart, and all those who looked upon me did so with concern. Ceralt and Lialt were most especially grim, and Mehrayn had taken Ceralt aside to speak with him in whispers. I knew not what they spoke of, yet was my state of mind such that I truly cared not.

No more than a matter of reckid passed before word was given Aram through another device at his left ear, that the first of the vehicles had returned with the balance of our warriors. One after the other did the final three also arrive, therefore was it clearly the time for our advance, before those who came were unable to enter the warmth through lack of room. I turned resolutely toward the chamber of the carving, thinking of how welcome the smoothness of the floor would be to the bottoms of my feet, knowing that the chamber must be traversed before we might press onward, yet was the spittle gone from my mouth and the warmth gone from my flesh. So evil was that place, that surely should it have reeked with putrifaction and screamed with the agony of souls under torment; only silence came from it, however, and only the musty smell of caverns. Calmly quiet did it stand beyond the light of our torches, and the fury which came to me over such a lie at last sent me forward toward it. Behind me came the others of our force, a number of warriors set about Aram and the roundish male to see that no harm came to them, and then were Ceralt and Mehrayn to either side of me.

“There is little need for you to go first again into that place of horrors, Jalav,” said Ceralt, attempting to take my arm to halt me. “Mehrayn and I will enter first, and then return to lead you through.”

“As though I were aged and infirm?” I asked, pulling my arm from his grip without breaking stride, the anger I felt returning a warmth of sorts to me. “Should the fey come that I am aged and infirm, I shall recall your offer and certainly accept it.”

“For what reason must you be so stubborn?” demanded Mehrayn in a low growl, his own anger clear. “Ceralt has told me of what occurred here when last you saw it, and there is little need to face such memories with none to stand beside you. Allow us at least to be with you.”

Ceralt began to speak words in objection, attempting to insist again that they two go forward without me, yet had we reached the threshold of the chamber. Without volition I slowed as the light of my torch sped ahead and within, and then did I halt with a chill foreboding. Where the carving had stood was there naught to be seen, as though the chamber had been forever empty, as though naught had ever been within it. Slowly did I pace forward with Ceralt frowning at my side, and Mehrayn seeming confused.

“How might so large a statue as you described be removed, Ceralt?” he asked, looking about with less understanding than those of us who had been there another time. “Might we not have entered the wrong chamber in error?”

“There is no error,” said Ceralt, his words coming with effort, his gaze moving slowly about. “What think you, Jalav? Might the presence of the statue have been illusion when first we saw it? At the end the very walls melted from about us— Might we have been made to see a statue which was naught save imagining?”

“The carving was not an illusion,” I answered with a great shudder, the light of the torch in my hand bobbing this way and that. “It was scarcely an illusion which took Hannis’s female, yet do I now believe that it was also not a carving. It was—”

“The Serene Oneness preserve us,” whispered Ceralt as his arm went about me, a paleness to his tone which surely matched the same in mine. “So close to us, and we unknowing, toyed with as though we were children!”

“What do you speak of?” asked Mehrayn as the others of our set came to stand with us, his frown an odd one. “What has disturbed you two so greatly?”

“The carving—was not a carving,” said I with effort, seeing Ceralt’s face show his distress. “What we thought a carving—what took the small female Deela and gave her such hurt—was the intruder male himself, in the guise of a carving of Sigurr. ”

“How might such a thing be possible?” demanded Aysayn as Mehrayn merely stared, as taken aback as those of us who relived the time in memory. “In what manner might a living thing pretend to stonehood? What manner of beings are these?”

“Endlessly evil,” said S’Heernoh looking grimly about. “Best we continue on, to advance as far as possible before they become aware of us.”

Indeed had the male spoken the truth, therefore did we all continue as I had begun, with resolution accompanied by caution. Warriors were placed at each crevasse choice, to be certain none mistook the proper direction, and in such a manner did we continue on as Ceralt and I had once before, save with two great differences. In this instance was my sword readily to hand, and those behind us were warriors all, none to fall shivering and weeping when attack came. I fretted at each of the crevasses we passed, knowing there would be a delay when our warriors found it necessary to pass through only by ones and twos; that such delay was unavoidable I knew as well as any other; the knowing, however, did naught to end the fretting.

One by one did the hind pass beneath our moving feet, the chambers of pressed stone bringing low-voiced, quickly ended mutters from those who accompanied me. So godlike were those chambers, with renderings of Mida and Sigurr pressed into the gray and black of the walls, that most preferred the corridors of true rock despite the sharpness of stones underfoot. Both chambers and corridors lacked sufficient air for those who passed through, and quickly did we come to regret the warmth we had at first craved so greatly. Clearly was the journey through the Peak and downward more easily undertaken by fewer than the number we had brought.

The end of both corridors and chambers came unexpectedly with the rounding of a turn, beyond which we were able to see an opening in the rock leading outward to that vast plain of a cavern where those who inhabited that place had last fallen upon intruders in their domain. Lighted in some manner was that cavern, as though by many unseen torches, and as we made for it Aram pushed through those warriors who surrounded him, and hurried to my side.

“The light just flickered,” said he, his tone full of portents of doom, his eyes filled with worry. “We’re getting close to the Feridani gadgets, and the closer we are, the stronger they are. We’re still covered, but that can change at any time.”

“Therefore must we now be completely alert,” I said, looking about as I spoke, pleased that the male’s words had allowed me that much understanding. “Best would be that you return now to those who guard you, for we may be fallen upon at any time. Once within that cavern we make first for the chambers of the female, she who presented herself as Mida. After that shall we discover the place of the male, and do with him as we have done with her.”

“You’re going after the Feridans instead of forcing them to come to you?” demanded Aram with a low yelp, of a sudden taken by frantic outrage. “What sort of military logic is that?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I said with a sigh, silently berating myself for having allowed Kira to be left behind. “I only know than that were we to allow the Feridani to come to us, surely would they come with all the wonders they were able to bring. As we go to them, there should be fewer wonders to battle against.”

“Catch them unprepared,” muttered the male, seemingly calmed from his outrage, a glance showing the manner in which he stared downward without true sight. “Letting them attack gives them the chance to get ready, attacking them gives us the chance to rattle them. I guess I can go along with that. ”

With such muttering did the male return to those who would guard him, leaving me to smile faintly as I continued to look about. We passed through the opening onto the floor of the vast cavern, then, all of us alert against what defenders there might be, and suddenly were those defenders very much in evidence. From all about did they come running and shouting toward us, males of the cavern, perhaps three clans or legions in number. Those of us who had passed through first were perhaps a third to a half of their force, and others near yet not yet having emerged, and the glee upon the faces of the attackers showed that they anticipated swift victory. It clearly had not come to them that they should have known of our presence much the sooner, and we made no attempt to speak upon the matter. Merely did we draw our weapons and meet them with attack rather than despair.

For some few reckid was the battle brisk and most diverting the greater numbers of the attackers making up for their lack of true skill, yet were they unable to stand long before us. The glee they had shown turned quickly to fear, yet were they far too late in their realization of the truth. By the hand did they fall before Midanna and Sigurri alike, and when some threw down their weapons in surrender, they shockingly found their numbers very few indeed. Bodies lay unmoving everywhere, bodies of attackers rather than warriors, and Mehrayn and Ceralt made their way to me with redly glistening swords still held in their fists.

“These are the ones meant to halt us?” Mehrayn asked with obvious scorn, flicking his blade toward those who lay unmoving. “Barely were they able to raise their weapons to greet their death.”

“The battle went somewhat differently when last I fought it,” said Ceralt, an odd shamefacedness about him. “I now see the difference in standing with warriors rather than riders and their trembling women. Your wenches are truly remarkable, Jalav, as are you, yourself. Those men who faced you had no hope of besting you, a sight which allowed me to face my own attackers with unburdened mind.”

“She is a warrior born and bred,” said Mehrayn with a good deal of pride, the green of his eyes glowing brightly. Ceralt, too, looked upon me much the same, and abruptly I found that I had no words to give them. With an unexplained heat in my cheeks I looked about for what next had to be done concerning the attackers we had slain, and suddenly Aram came rushing forward waving the device he held.

“Heads up!” he shouted as he ran, fear in his voice despite its strength. “They’ve broken through our cover and know what’s coming off! We’re on the red! They know we’re here!”

No more than the last of his words were absolutely clear, yet were they sufficient to apprise us of our danger. Now were we able to look about and see the many, many forms running toward us from all across the cavern, male and female alike, each holding a bared blade. Our force continued to come through the opening into the vast cavern, yet were there many more to come and clearly not sufficient time to allow their arrival before those of the cavern were upon us. Ceralt and Mehrayn straightened where they stood, S’Heernoh, Galiose, Lialt and Aysayn came quickly to join us, and I tightened my grip upon the hilt in my fist.

“We must hold till our brothers and sisters are able to stand with us!” I shouted to those who prepared to meet the oncoming followers of abomination, all greatly aware of how truly large a force attacked. “In the names of Mida and Sigurr shall we best them, yet must we first hold!”

“We shall hold!” came from many voices, bloodied swords raised high in relentless determination, and then did S’Heernoh speak. At the same time Aysayn turned to look upon me, approval in his gaze to add to that of Mehrayn and Ceralt, yet was there an oddness about all of these things. The words of S’Heernoh failed to reach me, the sight of Aysayn and the others began to fade, and I became aware of a numbness which gripped me. Sound of all sort was now disallowed my ears, those about me faded even further, and amidst the growing darkness I was able to feel no more than the pounding of my heart. The stone I stood upon, the breech and swordbelt about my middle, the hilt in my fist—all were no longer a part of me, no more than I was a part of those who stood in the cavern. Hands reached for me in the silence which had wrapped me about, desperate hands which seemed unable to touch me, and then was there naught save soft blackness, all sight and sound gone to a nether realm. I know not how long I stood so; when the time ended and the blackness cleared, the one who had named himself Sigurr stood before me.

“So we meet again,” said the breathy voice of the male, the words in some manner different from when he had last addressed me, his gaze unmoving from my face. “I find it difficult telling you how delighted I am to see you. Just let the sword drop to the floor.”

I did not intend to do as he bid, yet did my fingers open of themselves, allowing the sword to fall from them. Again was I aware of my entire body, but I was unable to command it to my will, beyond all save standing where I had appeared. The breathless laughter of the male came, sending cold all through me, and then did he turn away toward a magic window which stood upon a low platform. In the window I saw those who had accompanied me, now engaged sword to sword with the defending force, and then a touch of the male’s hand banished all sight of them. No more than blankness was left, a blankness of dismissal, a thing the male made clear was his exact intention.

“I knew we couldn’t afford to have you come in contact with those interfering fools,” said he, turning from the window to look upon me again. “That attack won’t do you any good, you know; you’re too badly outnumbered no matter how good you think you are. Our loyal followers will take care of your savages; Mida and I will see to your long-lost blood relations—and I, personally, will tend to you.”

Still breathy was the voice of the male, less dark and remote than he had been, yet remaining for the most part as I remembered him. Dark, unblinking eyes burned into me, and I unable to move no matter how I struggled inwardly. I stood as I had when I had first appeared in that realm of dimness and metal, unchained and untouched yet unable to move save at the command of the male, my sword now upon the flags at my feet, anger beginning in me at such a cowardly stroke. And then the male began to pace slowly toward me, his gaze still unmoving, and into my mind came memory of what had last been done to me. Had I been able, I would have taken a step backward; instead did the thud of my heart increase, and a faint trembling began within.

“I told Mida you would survive,” he whispered, truly near now and looking down upon me. “She swore at first that you would die taking that barbaric city, then that my supposed followers would see to you, and then that those other savage females would do what the first groups hadn’t been able to. She screamed for hours every time she was proven wrong, but I knew you would survive. I wanted you, and what I want, I get.”

His hand raised then to come to my face, and again I would have flinched away had I been able. The touch of the male was the same as the touch of any other, and yet—the gentleness went badly with his cold chuckle of amusement.

“Losing you the way they did will be terribly demoralizing for your people,” said he, letting his fingers slide from cheek to throat. “I told Mida she was a fool for letting you leave here again, but she didn’t know what she was dealing with. She wanted to see you fail before you died, fail terribly and then die horribly, but you’re one of those who succeed in life, almost like me. You fought all those savages into line and then brought them to attack us—and then suddenly disappeared before their very eyes. Without a leader they’ll fall apart now, and while they’re dying you and I will be together. I’m going to keep you a very long time, my lovely, and do to you things you’ve never had done before, and I won’t even have to work at keeping you alive. You’ll survive alone the way you did the first time, and will even live to see every being on this world bow to me in their slavery. All of those savages will belong to me, just as you belong to me, but none of them will receive the attention I give to you.”

The dark hand went from throat to breast, and then the touch was no longer gentle. Hard fingers closed tighter and tighter upon my flesh, giving me deliberate pain, the laughter coming breathy and whispering from the one who did me so.

“Do you wish you could scream, my beauty?” the whispering voice asked, the chuckling continuing. “But of course you don’t. It took quite a lot of effort before you screamed the first time, and I enjoyed that. I knew I would make you scream, but not when, and that gave me more pleasure than I’ve had from any other female of your world. They all begin by screaming, and where’s the pleasure in that, after the first few? But you, you resist, and now you’re permanently mine. Take off that swordbelt.”

My hands went of themselves to my swordbelt, and I knew not whether to fall to anger or fear. No least resistance was I able to make, no least effort to return to those who stood in battle, no least gesture to keep the Feridani male from me. Should this be the manner in which false gods fought, none of us had need of facing those who were gods in truth. Within me I screamed and fought to break free of the thrall in which I was held, yet in fact I opened my swordbelt and simply let it fall.

“I think you have no true idea of how spectacular you are—and how you arouse me,” said the male, his whisper having grown heavier, his dark eyes now glinting. “I watched you toward the end of that skirmish you and your savages managed to win, and couldn’t take my eyes from you. Your every movement is invitation, most especially with a weapon in your hand. Go to your knees, now, and kiss my feet.”

Without hesitation did my body obey, kneeling and bringing my lips to the feet of the male. Over and over did I kiss them, my knees and palms to the flagstones, my hair falling over my left shoulder, the fury rising within me frothing with near-madness.

“So at last you see that no matter how far along the road of leadership you think you’ve come, with me you’re no more than another delightful slave,” said the male, his amusement having grown truly great. “You will always obey me completely, my will above yours, no backtalk, no bargaining. Mida was amused to let you think you had to bargain with me for something she could have given you just as easily without your having to pay for it, but she isn’t part of this any longer. Now there’s just you and me, and nothing to consider but my pleasure. Rise to your feet, slave, and follow after your master. ”

Again was the male obeyed with speed, and as I rose to quickly follow in his track, I found that fear had somehow abandoned me. Well did I know that the male would do me as he had the instance previous, yet was the terror of the memory now blunted and buried beneath the fury which coursed all through me. In no manner would the male face me in honest challenge, and yet did he attempt to proclaim his superiority! Many times had Jalav been named slave, yet had none found it possible to prove the contention. Did Jalav survive to find release from the power of the male, he, too, would learn that words easily spoken were not as easily echoed in actions.

The chamber of the male was large and dim, lit from a source not easily discerned, the walls and floors stone, the devices standing all about unobtrusive save for the occasional glint of metal. To the back of the chamber did the male lead me, to a place where the stone of the floor was hidden by black lenga pelts covering all of the area from wall to wall. Never had I seen a lenga of black, not to speak of the number which would be required to cover so large an area, yet was I unable to halt and examine the pelts. The male continued on across them, to a large, wide platform of black wood covered over with black silks and further black pelts, and there did he halt to turn to me once more.

“I find the color scheme tedious after so long a use of it, but the time hasn’t yet come when I may abandon it,” said he, only his eyes glinting in the dim illumination. “There is, however, one attraction to be currently found in the color black. Approach me more closely.”

One step forward brought me nearly upon the male, so close that the scent of him was a lurching deep within. Strong was the odor of desire upon him, yet was he also smothered in what seemed the aroma of flowers, an aroma to be found upon no other male I had ever encountered. The dark chest before me moved as the male raised his arms, and then were his fingers undoing the war leather which bound my hair back. When the leather had come loose the hands then spread my hair all about, just as countless others had done before him, yet far more carefully. The male before me saw to my preparation for his pleasure, a realization which dimmed some part of my fury and revitalized an equal part of the memory of terror.

“So thick and delightful,” said he in a whisper of a murmur, drawing one wide strand forward as his hands returned before me, the leather also held. “The sight of you brings me great pleasure, slave. Bare yourself entirely for your master.”

So great was my reluctance to do such a thing that surely was my compliance less swift than it had been, yet was I able to do no other thing than comply. With the strings of my breech opened I was able to pull it away, and then was it gone to the black lenga fur beneath my feet.

“Now you may remove your master’s body adornment,” said he when the breech had slipped from my fingers, the weight of his gaze upon me, his words thickened in their whisper. “How barbaric to adorn one’s body, most especially when there are those about one would have appreciate the sight of it.”

The black breech about his loins was found first by my eyes and then by my fingers, its strings opening easily despite the stiffened fumbling of my touch. Even more reluctant was I to bare the male than I had been with myself, yet did the thrall I moved under continue to refuse to release me. Beneath the breech the male was eager indeed, his near-silent laughter whispering out at the shudder which touched me as the black leather fell away.

“I see you truly begin to recall our last encounter,” he said with a chuckle, continuing to run the strand of my hair through his fingers. “Kneel and greet your master’s desire, slave, and then give him pleasure.”

Again was I quickly upon my knees, the fur far softer beneath them than the flags had been, yet sooner would I have once more knelt upon the stone, and pressed my lips to it as well. I greeted the male and then pleasured him as he had commanded, nearly retching from the smell of him, yet did the male halt his pleasure before it was entirely done.

“To deny your flesh a short while is to indulge in even greater pleasure,” said he, his fist in my hair holding my head from him, his breath coming more heavily than it had. “We’ll play another game for a short while, and possibly return to this one later. On your feet now, and raise your chin. ”

The fist of the male in my hair forced me to rising along with his words, and then was my hair released so that he might take the war leather he had removed and knot it about my throat. Oddly was the thin leather knotted, the end of it no longer than the length of the male’s palm, the loop snug about my throat with little loosening even when it was unheld. The male, however, seemed pleased with his doing, and gestured behind me.

“Now you may put yourself in my pleasure place,” said he, “on your knees with body straight. Once there you’ll discover a great fear of me inside you, just beside the great desire you have for me. Desire will hold you in place until I’ve touched you, and then fear will send you scrabbling away. You will not be able to leave the bed, and when I command you to halt, you will not be able to move again until you’ve been touched. If I corner you, you’ll need to pay a price before being released to continue your escape. Yes, just so, my lovely slave, just so.”

Greatly pleased was the male with the manner in which I knelt upon his platform, in the position I had been commanded to. Also was he surely able to see the tracks of what other things had been commanded of me, the fear and the desire. The fear was a cold knot in my belly, causing my flesh to quiver against the possibility of being touched, the desire causing a burning demand for that which I felt such fear of; the two together twisted me about with dry tongue, pounding heart and trembling limbs. I knelt upon the softness of the furs, my hair draped over my feet, my palms to my thighs, my body straight, gazing unwaveringly upon the one who looked down upon me.

The male looked silently upon me a brief moment, then did he approach the platform and begin to climb upon it, the black of his form nearly humming with his sense of pleasure. The fear he had commanded brought a great wish to back from him, the desire a wish to move forward in greeting, neither intention able to best the forced need to remain where I knelt. Slowly nearer did the male come, his clear intent to bring me greater anguish, and then did his hand reach forth, to stroke between my thighs.

Mida! Never, in all my time among males, had I ever felt such loathing and arousal combined! My time with Ceralt had not been the same, for I had truly desired Ceralt despite my hatred of the capture he had held me in. The Feridani male who now caressed me and brought such heat was true anathema to me, vile beyond imagining no matter that he had commanded feelings other than that from my body. I writhed where I knelt, agonizing over how long he would do me so before allowing me to escape him, aching for the use he would not soon put me to, and breathy chuckling accompanied the stroking.

“I do believe the desire in you is stronger than the fear,” said he, greatly amused. “Does the slave burn to please her master? The slave is clearly made to please a master, which is exactly what she’ll do—when her master allows it. Now you may try to escape me, hot and squirming slave.”

With his words did the male remove his hand, freeing me to quickly crawl from him toward the far side of the platform. Again was the fury ablaze within me, fury at having yet another male speak of me so. Memory of my sword came to me then, scarcely so far away upon the flags that it was beyond consideration, an excellent instrument with which the slave Jalav might serve a male. Upon hands and knees I crawled and stumbled across the furs, a growl rising within me which nearly choked my breath away, the red of kill-lust beginning to tinge the black of evil.

“Stop,” said the male with continuing amusement, clearly not yet pursuing. “You move too slowly in your supposed escape, my hot little slave. You’re much too anxious to be caught and used, but your master isn’t ready for that yet. You’ll have to be taught what lack of absolute obedience brings you.”

The yielding platform beneath the furs and silks dipped as the male moved toward me, more deliberately than he had earlier, a thing I knew beyond doubt although it was behind me that he moved. I had been halted upon all fours facing away from him, and when he reached me his hand stroked across my bottom.

“This will undoubtedly be somewhat painful as well as frustrating for you, my lovely, but that, after all, is what punishments are supposed to be,” the breathy voice murmured with great pleasure, the male bringing himself over me. “We’ll have to see if we can force some sound out of you—or if it will be necessary to wait awhile longer. No, don’t struggle, I haven’t allowed you that.”

Immediately did my feeble movements in protest cease, although the doings of the male did not. As the Ranistard male Nolthis had so often used me, now did this Feridani do the same, taking pleasure for himself the while giving none to she whom he used. Pain indeed was there as he entered me, and then did his hands come to the short length of leather which had been knotted about my throat. His pull upon it lacked true strength, yet was the breath taken immediately from my throat, the doing dragging my brow down to touch the fur, where I was at last permitted to breathe. Greater pain caused me to attempt to straighten after a moment, yet the attempt caused the leather whose end continued to be held in the male’s fist to tighten once more, which again took the air from my lungs. To continue breathing it was necessary that I remain as I had been bent, I saw, and the male laughed when once this truth was known to me.

“You may now try to escape, child,” said he, a panting behind the words to mark the continuing thrust of his lips. “You’ll fail, of course, but now you may try.”

Much did I wish that I might at the least gasp with the pain and denial the male gave, yet to know that sound would give him greater pleasure was to vow that none would escape me. His possession of me was nearly complete, and in no manner was I able to deny the leather about my throat, which tightened at my slightest pull against it. Solely was I able to kneel there, brow to the fur, aching from the use the male took, so deeply humiliated by his laughter that I would have screamed with shame-rage, had I not sworn myself to silence. My hands upon the fur beneath the mound of my hair curled to fists, yet did the male take his pleasure in full, finding release only after a good deal of vigorous motion. I then anticipated his lessened withdrawal, yet to my shock was there neither; no lessening and no withdrawal, no more than his laughter in sated understanding.

“Did you believe I would be drained and reduced, child?” he asked, the breathy laughter interrupting his words. “Have you so quickly forgotten my appetites and capacity? You savages discovered what you call the gimba plant, the source of the drug you feed to captive men to make them able to serve many of you; my derivator was able to extract the essence of that plant, which allows me to have pleasure from the female use I take. Aren’t you pleased that I’m still able to ease you—when I choose to do so?”

The laughter of another male would surely have roared out to the heights of the chamber; the Feridani’s merely whispered and whispered, worse, by far, than any roaring might conceivably have been. His continued presence within me was continued pain, an explanation far clearer than the words he had spoken, and then his free hand came to the place he had scorned for his use. The greater desire he then brought me was even greater pain, and after he had caused me to writhe in need a short while, he laughed again.

“Still no sounds of pain, slave?” he asked, twisting my flesh between his fingers to add to what he gave elsewhere. “Your next punishment will have to be stricter, then, and far longer lasting. Until that time comes, let’s continue with the game. ”

His hand left the leather and he withdrew from me then, and no sooner was I free than I dropped to my left side upon the furs, looking back as I drew up my right leg, then kicked out into the male’s desire with all the skill and strength Chaldrin had instilled in me. You may now attempt to escape, the male had said to me, and although the words had not been meant in the manner in which I had taken them, still had they freed me from the thrall I had been under. The Feridani screamed a silent scream as he bent forward, undoubtedly experiencing a great deal of the pain he found such approval of, and I struggled erect despite my own pain then kicked again, this time taking the darkness of his visage for my aim. The male shot sideways and rolled from the platform amid the thrashing of arms and legs; I leaped forward and gained the floor for running, the place where my sword lay, clear to my sight. Although Chaldrin had not found it possible to stand by my side in that battle, still had his vow been kept through that which he had taught me.

My running steps took me quickly across the floor fur, and as my feet touched the flags I glanced as quickly back, to see that the Feridani male sat upon the fur where he had fallen, hunched over with the remnants of pain, yet watching me carefully and in silence. For what reason he failed to command my return I knew not, and then did I look again and truly see the place where my sword lay. Within a circle of black upon the gray of the flags was it, a circle I had no memory of seeing earlier, a circle I had clearly been standing in when I had arrived in that chamber. My pace slowed as I continued to look upon that circle, and then did a thought come which caused me to halt altogether. Range, had said the stranger female Kira, was that distance at which one might be reached by a device of wonders, a device which might not otherwise reach a warrior. Within that circle had the thralling device of the Feridani been able to reach me, a thing I knew without doubt; were I to return there, even to retrieve my sword, I would indeed be a fool. Once free of the hold of much daru, I also knew, one did not fall again beneath its sway till further daru was swallowed; perhaps, like daru, the thralling device might be bested by its avoidance, its initial effects overcome by my having once been freed. Having halted I then turned to look upon the Feridani, allowing him to know I would not step again within the circle, and the manner in which his chin rose spoke of his snarling displeasure.

“A slave who finds success in life!” he spat, the whisper harsh and penetrating even to where I stood. “Do you now believe you’ve won something, you mindless savage? Do you even understand why you’re avoiding that spot? I very much doubt you understand anything like it, and it won’t do you the least good. You’ll live a very long time regretting what you did.”

Then did the male begin to rise to his feet, just as though I had not twice struck him with kicks of strength. A male of villages and cities would surely be unmoving, likely be senseless, possibly be slain; this Feridani was clearly unlike them, however, and again my thoughts turned toward my sword, the sword I could not reach without entering the circle. Quickly did I throw my hair back over my shoulders with a toss of my head, drew the dagger the male had not removed from its leg bands, and set myself to meet attack.

The Feridani began pacing toward me, chill menace in each step he took, his lack of fear bringing memory to me of how easily he had returned life to those who had been unarguably slain without his aid. Ceralt, and the male I had faced there with swords, and even I had returned to life and health through the doing of that Feridani wonder, a wonder the male surely had the use of for his own self. I tightened my grip upon the hilt of my dagger despite the moisture of my palm, and watched the male slowly closing the distance between us.

And then came an odd, soundless sound, one which was accompanied by a flash of brightness which seemed unconnected with whatever torches or candles illuminated the chamber. Far longer in duration than a flash of lightning was it, and in its glow did both the chamber and the male—change! The chamber itself turned merely dull rather than brooding dark, and the Feridani male—the male was of a sudden no different from any other male, no darker, even, than I! I stared without understanding as the male halted abruptly with a snarl to look about, and then was the darkness returned, to him as well as to the chamber. A moment passed so, during which time the male began to stride toward a device of metal upon a platform at the wall to my left, and then did the brightness return, this time apparently to remain a while.

“Those fools!” raged the male, reaching the device of metal and immediately touching it all about. “They were supposed to destroy that suppressor when they got their hands on it! How could it be back in operation? How could it—”

The words of the male ended abruptly as the device he stood before formed a window of magic, showing him a view he had clearly not anticipated. The window looked out upon the vast cavern where the followers of the intruders had been about to attack Midanna and Sigurri, the place from which I had been so abruptly taken. Here and there did the fighting continue, sword to sword with more desperation than eagerness, the unmoving forms upon the stone of the floor so great in number, that those who continued in battle were scarcely able to move from where they stood. Those unmoving forms upon the stone, however, were primarily leather-breeched followers of abomination, and my spirits rose in triumph even as the Feridani stared in disbelief. Midanna and Sigurri had overcome those who had sought their lives, despite the beliefs of the Feridani male, despite the numbers which they had had to face, just as I had known they would.

“No,” whispered the male, backing slowly from the window in deep shock, his head shaking in an attempt at negation. Brown-haired was that head, the staring eyes having earlier proved themselves to be as brown, the body beneath large and fairly wide-shouldered, yet not so large and wide-shouldered as it had previously appeared. Indeed was the male no different from others, and he whirled about in alarm when the door in the wall well to my right flew inward, thrust aside by Mehrayn and Ceralt, bloody swords bare in their fists. Behind those two were S’Heernoh and Aram, the latter glancing repeatedly down to the device in his hand, the eyes of the former seeking naught save this warrior. Mehrayn and Ceralt also looked to me briefly, saw the manner in which I stood, then turned cold, light eyes toward the Feridani upon whom they now advanced. With a sound of great outrage the male turned from them, jumped back to the platform which held the device of metal, reached quickly beneath it, then turned again to face those who challenged him, now with a sword in his fist.

“Do you savages dare to approach me so?” he demanded of Sigurri and Belsayah, glaring upon the two who had not ceased in their stalking of him. “Everyone on my world learns how to use a sword, so if it’s swordplay you want, it’s swordplay you’ll get—and learn just before you die that you can’t hope to match me even in that!”

Totally unhearing and unheeding were Ceralt and Mehrayn, the words the Feridani spoke touching them not in the least. With determination did they meet the advance of the furious male, and then were all three blade to blade in battle. The two attempted to down the one quickly, offering naught of honorable battle to one from whom honor was not to be expected; shockingly, however, there occurred another thing which was unexpected. The Feridani male, attacked by two warriors, should surely have fallen, and yet after nearly a dozen strokes had been exchanged, he had not. His blade halted every attempt to reach him despite the speed and strength of the strokes brought to bear, and then did he begin to return a portion of that which he had been receiving. Mehrayn hastily slid one stroke to keep from being sliced and Ceralt staggered backward a step from the weight of the next lightning swing, both males nearly open-mouthed at the manner in which their enemy not only continued to stand, but also now carried the battle to them. I, too, felt so as I watched, yet was there one filled with greater anger than incredulity, greater impatience than awe.

“No,” S’Heernoh snapped as he leaped forward to interpose his blade between Ceralt and a backswing sent by the Feridani which would surely have found its target. “You will no longer be allowed to butcher children, monster. As you are so eager to spill blood, you may attempt to spill mine.”

“Yours first and then theirs, old man,” snarled the Feridani, furious that his kill had been taken from him. “You’ll soon find that you would have been wiser to turn and run.”

Then did the male begin to advance in attack upon S’Heernoh, his rage adding strength to his arm, insolently ignoring Ceralt and Mehrayn, who had fallen back with S’Heernoh’s intercession. Oddly enough the gray-haired male seemed to find less difficulty in facing the Feridani than those who had stood before him, yet was I unsure as to how long the thing would continue. S’Heernoh fought with a skill I had rarely, if ever, seen equaled, and yet to consider the Feridani bested by cause of that observation alone would be foolish. I had stood about undoing long enough; there was a sword of mine waiting to be reclaimed.

With the sound of metal striking upon metal ringing sharply, I returned my dagger to its leg bands, turned from the furious exchange of attack and defense, and began looking about. The black circle remained a place I would not and could not enter, therefore did I require a thing which would enter the place for me. Odd was that chamber, filled with furs and silks upon flagstones beside devices of metal and wonder, and at first I was able to see naught which would suit my purpose. Then did my eyes fall upon a strangely even length of wood which had been placed upon a long platform holding devices of metal, as though its use had been about to be begun, yet opportunity for that beginning had not arrived. I quickly approached the platform, took up the squarish length of wood, then turned again toward the circle of black.

The wood was of just sufficient length to reach my sword, but I had to brush and scrape the weapon toward me as the sound of sword battle continued at my back, grunts and muttered curses accompanying the snail of metal upon metal. After too many moments of frenzied scraping the hilt at last crossed the line of the black circle to where I stood, therefore did I snatch it up and whirl about—to see the final movements of the meeting between brown-haired Feridani and gray-haired Walker.

As my first thoughts were concerned with how S’Heernoh fared against the intruder, the true state of affairs did not immediately come to me; only after having sent my gaze to the Feridani, did I realize that he retained neither fury nor determination. Fear and desperation now rode the features of the male, as closely as the sweat slicking his brow, for the gray-haired male he faced had begun driving him backward, the intention to end him clear in every line of S’Heernoh’s body. The teeth of the Feridani were clenched against the strength of the blows falling upon his weapon and then, despite his every effort, his blade was struck aside.

“You!” rasped the male to S’Heernoh, his eyes widened in shock, his tone disbelieving. “You’re—”

The following words used by the male were totally incomprehensible, mere gibberish spouted as though they contained meaning, a doing the intruder was not long allowed to continue. S’Heernoh cut through the stream with a lunge impossible to resist, his sword burying itself in the chest of the Feridani, ending words and life alike. Despite my previous doubts upon the point, the eyes of the Feridani dulled, his sword fell from unresisting fingers, and then he crumpled to the stone of the floor.

“Magnificent,” breathed Mehrayn from where he stood beside Ceralt, both with weapons still in hand yet points lowered, then did his voice raise to full glee. “Man, you were absolutely magnificent!” he laughed, moving forward with a grinning Ceralt to halt beside S’Heernoh. “Never have I seen a skill to match yours! Why haven’t we seen it sooner?”

Ceralt added delighted praise to Mehrayn’s, bringing S’Heernoh a much-deserved smile of satisfaction over so glorious an accomplishment; I, too, felt the same, yet was there one final matter which needed to be seen to before we might indulge in leisurely mutual congratulation. I stepped back from those three males who stood happily above the empty husk of he who had been a Feridani, gestured to Aram in a manner indicating that he was to follow me, and stepped silently from the chamber which no longer brooded with dark dread.

“What is it, Jalav?” Aram asked quietly when once he had followed me into the corridor of gray stone, his light eyes concerned. “Is something wrong?”

“Indeed,” said I with a nod, working left-hand to pull the knotted leather from about my neck and cast it from me. “Soon, however, all shall be set aright, for you and I and the wonder you bear now go to seek the other of those called Feridani. You are prepared to accompany me?”

“Sure,” said the male with surprised yet full agreement, his glance to the device he held reassured by the continuing cast of green. “I’m ready to go, but don’t you think you’ve forgotten something? I mean, you don’t really intend walking around like that, do you? You’re not wearing anything at all.”

“Coverings, like congratulations, may be left for another time,” I replied with a soft sound of ridicule, already having begun leading the way up the corridor. “Should my memory of my previous time here not be amiss, we are not far from the place we seek.”

The male seemed less than pleased with my reply, yet did he hasten to lengthen his stride so that he would not be left behind. We strode up the corridor toward the nearest cross corridor, paying no mind to those few unmoving forms upon the stone, and once at the cross corridor I found my suppositions had been correct. The corridor we then emerged from was one I had been forbidden to enter during my previous visit, the rock of the wall beyond it still retaining its lines of black, and from there I had no doubt as to where my destination lay. Without hesitation I turned to the left, stalking the one I had so often thought about in such a manner.

The door to the chamber stood slightly ajar when I reached it, therefore did I ease it farther open and look within before entering, Aram close behind me. The figure I sought stood before a platform which held a device of metal with a magic window, yet was the figure not as it had been when last I had seen it. Tall was that golden-haired figure, yet not so tall as I, and no other thing save its hair was golden. Light was the skin, lighter than mine amidst the clutter of a chamber also stripped of its golden glow, yet had I no doubt that here was the one I sought. The view within the magic window changed rapidly with each frantic touch of the female’s hand, yet were my eyes no place other than upon her when I stepped past the threshold.

“Greetings, Mida,” said I quite softly, causing the female to gasp and whirl to face me. Blue were her widened eyes rather than golden, and sight of them brought a faint smile to curve my lips.

“You!” said she in a choked voice, and then did she attempt to draw herself up. “How dare you enter these precincts without permission?” she demanded, forcing insult to bring true outrage. “Sheathe that blade immediately and go to your belly in apology, else shall your goddess . . . .”

“Do naught save die,” I said, treading upon the balance of her words, the prospect of pleasure rising swiftly within me. “To battle a goddess has long been my hope and intention, therefore would you be wise to fetch a blade. To strike you down where you stand would remove all joy for me, yet am I prepared to do even that.”

“So you do know!” she spat, no beauty remaining in the face which twisted with spite and hatred, her eyes now burning with the fury she had earlier sought. “All of our support equipment is dead, but I don’t need it to finish off a stinking savage like you! If I get nothing else out of this, I’ll at least have the satisfaction of doing that!”

Quickly did she whirl and run to the wall where hung her golden sword, took it down with a jerk, then turned again to face me with spiteful anticipation. It was clearly her intention to see my blood flow to the flags, yet had I the same intention regarding her, and my intention had surely been first aborning.

With fist tightened about hilt I advanced as she did, then raised my sword quickly to block the first of her swings. Great was the strength behind that swing and those which followed, backed by the rage and spite which filled her, yet had I expected no other thing. I, too, was filled with rage, and the strength and speed I had ever found more than sufficient to best any I faced now became no more than enough, just sufficient to hold and meet this Feridani female. So pleasurable was such a state of affairs that the purr of the hadat rose to my throat, vocal evidence of the truest battle glory I had ever known. Here, for the first time, was I faced with true challenge, and to stand victorious at the end of it would be the sole fitting testimony to true skill.

The female pressed me hard in her initial onslaught, her golden blade seeking all about for entry to my flesh and vitals, yet was there ever another golden blade to halt her thrusts and slashes, the blade in my fist which she, herself, had provided. I, too, was halted in my attempts to attack; though while I found such halting no more than a thing to be overcome, the female I faced looked upon her own frustration in a different light. At first did her fury grow greater that she was unable to reach and end me, and then did fear begin its creeping return, the fear she had felt when first she had looked upon me. I was to have fallen before the viciousness of her onslaught, and when I did not she had naught of confidence in her own skill to bolster her.

“How?” she demanded breathlessly after coming near to being spitted, stepping back in an attempt to disengage. “How are you able to stand against me? Why aren’t you dead?”

Her voice had risen to a screech of pure frustration, a child being denied what she considered her due, and again a smile of amusement touched me.

“Jalav is able to stand against you, for Jalav is the chosen of Mida,” I informed her as I advanced to pursue the battle. “Are you not able to recall that you, yourself, made it so?”

“You’re crazy!” she cried, desperately striking my blade from her as she backed yet farther. “You’re nothing but a crazy barbarian savage, and you can’t . . . .”

Upon hearing the hated word “savage” yet again from the lips of one I loathed so greatly, I rose up with a fury which was impossible to control. Like one taken by a madness did I fall upon the Feridani female, swinging at head, arm, torso, and legs, and then did I strike away her blade and bury mine in her middle, bringing forth a gout of blood from her gaping mouth which her widened eyes no longer seemed aware of. No more than her death was the female aware of, and with such an awareness did she slide to the reddened flagstones, her soul, were one such as she to have a soul, already fled.

“Jalav, you did it!” cried Aram from behind me as I freed my blade from the putrid flesh of she who had dared to face me. “I don’t know how you did it, but you sure as hell managed it!”

I turned then to face the wildly elated stranger male, and at that moment did S’Heernoh and Mehrayn and Ceralt make their hasty entrance, all three grim-faced and with swords in their fists. The heaviness of their breathing gave testimony of how hurried they had truly been, and although S’Heernoh carried my breech and swordbelt, he seemed unaware of the fact. All three appeared braced for further battle, and I smiled as I approached them.

“That this one was mine may not be denied,” I said, handing my sword to Aram so that I might take breech and swordbelt from S’Heernoh. “You, my fine Walker of the Snows proved how small a skill you possess by facing that other. Had I not earned the right to do the same with she who had presumed to call herself Mida?”

“Indeed,” said S’Heernoh with a grin and laughter, looking down upon me as Ceralt and Mehrayn paced forward to inspect the carcass I had seen to. “Indeed was the right to it yours lady war leader. You are not harmed in any manner?”

“Had she the heart to match her skill, it would surely have been otherwise,” I replied with a headshake, finishing with my breech and beginning to close my swordbelt about me. “Think you there are others of their ilk hereabouts to be seen to, Aram?”

“I seriously doubt it,” returned the male, holding my sword gingerly the while I covered myself, and then returning it with the eagerness of one who is unused to the presence of spilled blood and that which spills it. “If there had been any more of them, they would have been set up as gods right along with these two. I’d say that except for whatever mopping up is left, the battle is over—with us as the winners.”

The grin of the male matched the pleasure in S’Heernoh and myself, for no longer were there Feridani about who might bring the ills of slavery to our world. Such a doing called for a victory celebration like no other ever indulged in, and surely would I have spoken of the matter had another not spoken before me.

“You heard,” said Mehrayn to Ceralt, his voice calm and even as he gazed upon the second male over Mida’s remains. “Our duty has been seen to, and all responsibility gone by the boards. We are now no more than two men with none looking to them for leadership.”

“Indeed,” said Ceralt with a matching calm, returning the gaze being sent to him, his left hand gently arest upon the hilt of his sword. “There is naught now before us of greater import than our own concerns. I regret the need, for I have come to know and respect you, yet does this matter go beyond brotherhood and friendship.”

“I, too, feel regret, although you have spoken truly in regard to our need,” said Mehrayn. “To give up all claim to a woman out of friendship to another man, is to prove that the woman is not truly the woman of your heart. As I am unable to withdraw, so do I recognize your inability to do the same. ”

“Where shall we see to the matter?” asked Ceralt, looking about critically at that which surrounded him. “This chamber seems somewhat limited, and yet might it do should the need arise.”

“I have no true preference,” returned Mehrayn with a shrug, also looking about. “There are surely sufficient chambers in this place that one might be found without the clutter of this one, and yet shall it certainly do should we find no other to our liking.”

“They can’t be talking about what I think they’re talking about,” said Aram softly to S’Heernoh, stepping forward to take the place beside the Walker that I had left. Without being truly aware of the doing I had backed from where I had stood, surely an attempt to deny intentions which I could not bear to accept. “We’ve got to do something to stop it—if there is any way to stop it.”

“I shall find a way,” said S’Heernoh grimly, and then did he and Aram begin walking toward the two who meant to face one another, no matter the attempts of others. S’Heernoh might speak and Aram might protest, yet would naught save the death of one prevent the meeting the two intended. Truly had I forgotten what victory in the battle might come to mean: a personal defeat I had not the ability to face. None might speak upon the doings of warriors, and Ceralt and Mehrayn were warriors; as I could not speak to halt them, neither was I able to watch the thing; even before S’Heernoh and Aram reached the others, I turned and fled the chamber.

Corridor after corridor slipped by beneath my feet, my surroundings doing naught to bring themselves to my attention, the illness so strong within me that I was aware of naught else. With one hand to my middle did I stumble from the unbearable, till at last I found myself emerging into the vast cavern where battle had taken place. Unmoving forms lay everywhere, some few of them Midanna and Sigurri, yet by far the greater number of warriors sat with naught save wounds, being tended by others at the direction of Lialt and the roundish male. Blood spattered the stranger male’s covering, the cloth tied about his arm saying some part of it was likely his own, but he was more concerned with those he tended. I turned to my right, away from the sight of healing, knowing full well that even the skills of the roundish male would avail naught were Ceralt and Mehrayn to face one another. One at least would surely fall, never to rise again, and the pain that thought brought me could not be borne. I had faced the one called Mida and stood victorious, and had gained naught from the doing; far better would it have been had I fallen in her stead.

After a number of reckid I halted beside the rough stone wall of the cavern, my thoughts all ajumble, the illness continuing strong within me. I knew not where I might run to escape what would surely be, where I might hide so that word of which of them had fallen might not be brought me. I lifted a trembling hand to brush away the hair which blocked my vision, then raised my head to look about to see in which direction I would next take myself. There were some few warriors about in that part of the cavern, most sitting in sets and speaking softly as they took their rest, and then my gaze fell upon one who of a sudden seemed sent by Mida herself. Galiose sat among the warriors yet was not a part of them, for he who was High Seat of Ranistard sat alone, gazing down to the stone of the cavern floor. Rest had been promised me by the spirit of Chaldrin, and surely had I now earned such a rest; Mida, in her infinite kindness, had provided the means to that rest, and I sent her my heartfelt thanks as I left the wall I had halted beside, and walked slowly toward Galiose. To be the chosen of Mida was not half so fine as to be her beloved daughter, one to whom she gives the aid of her love.

“Galiose,” said I when I stood before him, looking down to where he sat. “Galiose, all battle has ended, and we now stand victorious. My warriors no longer have battle thoughts to occupy them, therefore is it necessary that I find other thoughts for them—or other battle.”

The male had slowly raised his head to look upward toward me, and unreadable were the shadows darkening his eyes. A faint frown took him at my words, and he shook his head with something like annoyance.

“Should there be a thing you seek to tell me, girl, best would be you speak more plainly,” said he, his tone attempting to dismiss my presence. “The battle was long, and now I wish to rest for a while without disturbance.”

“Indeed is Galiose wise to rest himself,” said I, insolently putting hands to swordbelt as I looked down upon him. “Such rest will stand him in good stead when my warriors and I have reached his city. I have decided that the very existence of Ranistard is offensive to me, and shall see to the offense as I have seen to all others I have come upon: I shall trample it into the ground till it is no longer offensive to any upon this world.”

“You cannot mean such words,” he said, paling, and then was he rising to his feet to look down at me with great hurt and disbelief. “There are innocents in my city, men and women and children who would be homeless even were they to survive! You cannot mean to attack!”

“For what reason should I not?” I asked, bringing a faint smile to my face. “What are your city folk to me? In what manner did they come to my aid when I required aid? In what manner did they seek to aid my Hosta? They shall be given the consideration given me and mine, no less—and no more.”

“I see,” he said with a nod, looking down at me with bitterness. “You continue to hold me culpable for that lashing. What is it you truly wish, girl? Do you seek my life in trade for the lives of those of my city? Should that be so, take it and be damned!”

“I have no interest in trading with you, male,” I said to the growing fury in his eyes, holding the smile which brought him such anger. “To merely take a life is not to win it, and Midanna have no liking for such city-male doings. Should Galiose wish to aid his city he must face me, and more than that must he stand victorious. Should Galiose triumph, his city shall survive; should Jalav triumph, Ranistard will be no more. Your death will mean the death of your city as well, male, therefore may you banish all thoughts of freeing them from their fate with your lifeblood. Only by besting me shall you find lasting safety for them, and none yet have ever bested this warrior.”

“Till now,” said he with a growl, straightening where he stood, his eyes filled with determination. “I have no doubt you mean what you say, therefore shall I steel myself to the unpleasant task of butchering a female. To preserve the lives of many the life of one must be taken, and although I shall grieve when it is done, the grief of one is far more acceptable than the grief of many. Where shall our meeting be, and when?”

“Here,” said I, drawing the sword I had not cleaned the blood from, the sword I had sheathed without thought when I fled the chamber which had been the Feridani female’s. “And now. Such long awaited pleasure should not be delayed by even one added hand of reckid.”

“Pleasure,” echoed the male with full disgust, also drawing his weapon. “Perhaps this is best after all, for one who considers killing pleasurable will find no place for herself in the new world which the strangers will aid us in building. Far better you find an ending now, and be spared the pain of knowing yourself a misfit outcast. You have my deep regrets, wench. ”

And then did the male have at me, swinging his sword with strength and more than a modicum of skill. For one of the cities he was adequate indeed, yet even as I kept his point and edge from me, I knew him as less than myself. Had I truly wished his life I would have had it, and the great startlement he showed told me he knew it as well. No more than a dozen strokes had we exchanged before the truth came to the male and myself, yet are such things quickly known. I immediately feared that the realization would daunt the male, causing him to turn and flee from our encounter, yet was Galiose made from other than that of the Feridani. Rather than run, the male increased his efforts to down me, an act which pleased me greatly and brought me respect for the male who was High Seat of Ranistard. That respect came late was better than not at all, most especially with so little time left.

More and more frantic grew the efforts of the male, he barely able to keep my gently questing point from his flesh, and then came the moment I had awaited, the moment of his greatest effort. So swift were the movements of the male that halting himself was no longer possible, and then did I drop my guard and stand unprotected, welcoming the thrust of his blade. Oddly slow was the motion of it all, the widening of Galiose’s eyes as he saw his weapon flash unimpeded toward me, the glint of the blade in the strange light of the cavern, and then was I struck and pierced through, just as Chaldrin had been, just as I had wished to be. The blow was more like that of a fist than of a blade, and as I dropped a sword grown suddenly too heavy and sank to my knees, I wondered at the strange lack of pain.

“No, no, what have you done?” Galiose shouted, suddenly beside himself with the upset he had vowed not to feel. “You have made me slay you, and I cannot bear the pain!”

“You may not take the pain which is mine, male,” I whispered, finding that his sword was gone from between my breasts, and his arm held me from the stone of the floor. I had memory of neither thing being done, and knew pleasure that soon all other memory would be gone as well. I looked up into eyes from which tears fell freely, and attempted a smile to soothe away his sadness.

“You have done me a priceless service, brother,” I whispered, feeling a great lethargy creeping over me. The wetness of my strengthless flesh gave me some small discomfort, and my hair twisted beneath the arm of the male as well, yet did I smile with gratitude for the gift I had been given. “Jalav is greatly weary,” I said, “and now, through the generosity of her brother, she will rest. All debts between us are no more, all guilt and accusations wiped away.”

“Why?” asked the male in a tear-choked voice I was barely able to hear. “You could have bested me easily, and yet you allowed me to slay you. For what reason have you done such a thing?”

“I could not choose between them,” I said amid the ringing I now heard in my head, surely the tolling of my life-bell in Mida’s sacred Realm. “In no matter might I have chosen between them, and now they both shall live. They will not face one another for there is naught to be won, therefore shall they both live on. And I—I shall find the rest promised me by Chaldrin.”

The lips of the male parted to add words to the look of devastation he wore, yet were those words not to be uttered. Suddenly before me were Mehrayn and Ceralt, and how pleased I was to see them a final time. My vision had begun blurring with the advance of the lethargy, yet was I still able to see them, although the strength to raise caressing fingers to each of their faces was no longer present. I looked upon them with all the love I felt for them, able to hear no more than a combined mutter made up of the words they spoke, and then were they suddenly gone from before me.

In their place was the visage of S’Heernoh, the gray-haired male I had come to be so fond of. Grief twisted his features till they were nearly unrecognizable, his hands took my arms in a grip which would have been painful had I been able to feel it, and his lips parted to shout the single, strangled word, “No!”

Yet was it past time for all denial, all hearing and speaking and feeling. The lethargy rose up to cover me with darkness, and Jalav was done with the world.