To Battle The Gods

2 Discussions—and a doing of fools

The gates of the city were opened when we had approached near enough, allowing us to enter by twos. Ennat rode beside me as I passed through first, she looking in open curiosity at what lay within the walls, pleased by the sight of the Midanna who awaited us. With the rose of the Hunda was the violet of the Homma, Palar and Gidon directing their clans as was fitting. The two war leaders greeted me with joyous shouts, and once our entire set was within the gates and they closed again and barred, the two came to stand before my ken.

“We have sent a runner to inform the others of your return, Jalav,” said Gidon, her green eyes filled with pleasure as she tossed her heavy, golden hair. “All has gone well for us in your absence, and has clearly done the same for you. The males, we saw, have come to stand with us.”

“Also have we seen another thing,” said Palar, stroking the neck of my ken while her eyes rested upon Ennat. “The enemy clans ride as well? They showed themselves at your signal, it seemed; can it be they follow you as we do?”

“It was Mida’s will that they do so,” said I, pleased to once again be among my own. “This is Ennat, Keeper to those who are no longer enemy to us, and I have brought her here so that she and Rilas might speak.”

“The Keeper will surely be awaiting your arrival at the overlarge dwelling, Jalav,” Palar said with a nod as she and Gidon backed a pace from my ken. “We give Mida our thanks that you have returned, and will hear the tale of your journeying when our presence here is no longer required.”

“And perhaps share a cup or two of daru,” said I, more than warmed by their welcome. “There is much to speak of before the arrival of the strangers.”

I turned my kan from them and once again led the way, through the narrow, choking, smooth-stoned paths that were city ways. Surprisingly there were many city folk about, keeping themselves from the gate and warrior doings, yet frankly staring. They gestured boldly and spoke curiously among themselves, male and female alike, little ones running here and there among their elders. They buzzed with questions as we rode among them, clearly sharing an excitement of sorts, eager as though they, too, anticipated glorious battle. These city folk had not seemed the same when last I had ridden among them, and I knew not what had brought such change to them.

The narrow city ways took us through the city, and then did they widen to pass larger, more isolated dwellings, grander by far than those which stood one upon the other. A distance ahead of us was visible the largest dwelling of them all, the dwelling which had once belonged to the High Seat of Bellinard, the dwelling which now housed my Midanna. Here and there among the city folk had I seen Midanna warriors, their hands raised in greeting as I passed, their faces grinning, their attention sought by many of these about them who clearly meant to question them. Again I had been uncomprehending, for the city folk had shown no fear of those warriors, and had I had no other thoughts to occupy me, I would surely have spent many reckid in wondering.

At last we came to the overlarge dwelling called the Palace of the High Seat, seeing the orange of the Hersa and the gold of the Hulna where those warriors stood guard at the city’s second gate, not far from the dwelling. Before the dwelling itself was an expanse reached by many steps, white against the pink of the dwelling, now well peopled by Midanna warriors, in their van no other than Rilas. Our Keeper remained tall and straight, yet were there streaks of white in her golden hair, showing the number of kalod she had held the honor of her office. Her long covering contained all the colors of our clans, and her thin face smiled greeting as I drew rein and slid from the back of my kan.

“So, Jalav, once again you return to us with victory in your hand,” said she, her voice warm and filled with great pleasure and pride. “Truly are you a daughter of Mida, blessed many times over by the mother of us all.”

I gave my kan to the Helda warrior who happily stood awaiting the honor of tending the mount of one so well loved by Mida, and mounted the steps to where Rilas awaited me. Had I been less pleased to be among my own again, it would have been considerably more difficult to return Rilas’s smile.

“Blessed is she who has those she may return to, those with whom she may share her victories,” said I to Rilas, putting my hand to her shoulder as she put hand to mine. “I bring with me a new sister, Rilas, one of many new sisters whose presence I relish. I would have you know Ennat, once of the Sidda, now Keeper to all of her clans.”

“I give you welcome, sister,” said Rilas to Ennat, who had climbed the steps to stand beside me. Larger even than I was Ennat, and she returned the smile Rilas gave with even greater warmth.

“I am honored to stand before you, Keeper of those who were once enemy to us,” said Ennat, speaking in a voice smaller than usual. “The heart and wisdom of Rilas have long been known of among all Midanna, even those who looked to another as Keeper. I would learn what I might from you, Keeper, so that I, too, may bring comfort and aid to the warriors about me.”

“I have no doubt that you already bring such comfort and aid, Keeper,” said Rilas, with a gentle amusement in her eyes. “You are welcome to stand beside me, Ennat, to see that we all abide by the will of Mida—as does Jalav, for whom the will of Mida seems to be a demand that she surround herself with larger and larger numbers of males. The four you departed with have now become considerably more, Jalav. Have your needs grown so large that you require such a number?”

“Some blessings have their dark side as well, Rilas,” said I, aware of the greater amusement within her as she allowed her gaze to acknowledge those who rode in my wake. “It has been my lot to find myself among males without number, a doing I would have quickly ended had it not been demanded of me. There are others I would have you know, those who are indeed male, yet who have proven themselves something more.”

I turned to where the Sigurri and S’Heernoh awaited upon the stones below, their eyes busily taking in the warriors all about, and gestured them to me. Ilvin had ascended the steps in the near wake of Ennat and myself and continued to receive the greetings of those Hitta who were present. When the males were about us, I returned my gaze to Rilas.

“Keeper, I would have you know those who are followers of Sigurr, and one who is not,” said I, indicating the males who had grown respectfully silent. “This one is Aysayn, called Shadow of Sigurr, a Keeper to those who follow the dark god. He of the blazing hair is Mehrayn, called Sword of Sigurr, war leader to his males. The third is Chaldrin, a true keren among males, more foolish than others in that he insists upon following a war leader of Midanna and raising his sword beside hers. Mida alone knows for what reason I call him brother.”

Chaldrin chuckled softly, possibly at the startlement to be seen upon Rilas. She had looked upward at the males as I named each of them, and had frowned somewhat at the manner in which Mehrayn had gazed upon me.

“The last of the four is S’Heernoh, one who travels far from the land of his people,” I continued, bringing Rilas’s attention to the tall, gray-haired male. “Though warrior skills are not among those he possesses, he has become a true companion to us all, providing aid and information which no other might have done. Should he learn to curb his amusement at those things which fail to bring amusement to others, he may well remain living among us a time longer.”

S’Heernoh showed his amusement then, as the other males chuckled, yet Rilas remained untouched by it. Her frown now rested upon S’Heernoh, composed in large part of puzzlement.

“In some manner do you seem familiar, male,” she said to him, her eyes seeking to plumb the depth of him. “And yet, the thought of lack of warrior skills does not seem equally familiar. Have we met in the time gone past?”

“Never before have I been given the honor of being presented to you, lady,” said S’Heernoh, smoothly. “Should such honor have been mine, I would surely have recalled it.”

“Perhaps,” said Rilas in a mutter, her thoughts clearly upon the past, yet were there others about whom her curiosity had not yet been satisfied. Those Aysayn had urged to join us now stood a short distance beyond the set we had formed, and her eyes went to them.

“Those males will not long remain among us,” said I, losing nearly all of the welcome-pleasure I had felt at sight of how close Ceralt and Galiose had grown. The two stood shoulder to shoulder, Lialt and Telion with them, the other males they had brought ranged behind. Once Ceralt had demanded to know the size of the thing which stood between Galiose and himself, a demand brought about by knowledge of the lashing I had been given by command of the High Seat of Ranistard. Now it seemed the size of the thing was small indeed, so small that it was easily ignored so that naught would mar the closeness of the males. Memory of the shame and humiliation I had had at Ceralt’s hands returned, unsoftened by an awareness of the pain he had attempted to keep from me.

“And yet, while they remain, the war leader will surely not deny me knowledge of them,” said Rilas, her soft words striving to soothe my anger. “Speak to me of these others who follow you, Jalav, so that I may know them as you do.”

“You would not care to know them as I do, Rilas,” said I, sending my gaze to the four who had stepped nearer when the Keeper’s attention had come to them. “The one in blue cloth and leather and metal is Galiose, called High Seat of Ranistard, he who holds the Hosta captive within the walls of a cursed city, he who had their war leader lashed for failing to obey him as would a city slave-woman. Beside him is Ceralt, High Rider to Belsayah village males, he who sought to ensnare a war leader of Midanna with stolen vows, he who sought to make a city slave-woman of her in truth. The one who seems so like Ceralt is his brother Lialt, Pathfinder for their village and also their healer. He of the red-gold mane is Telion, called warrior of Ranistard, chosen brother to both Galiose and Ceralt. Lialt and Telion found great amusement during the journey to Mida’s realm upon this world, taking pleasure from one who had been declared no more than a wench commanded to obey them. When the strangers have been seen to, then shall there be challenge given aplenty.”

A great silence had fallen at my words, words which turned the looks of Galiose and Ceralt and Lialt and Telion odd indeed. They seemed taken aback by the truths I had voiced, truths they no longer seemed able to deny. Galiose avoided my eye and Ceralt stared with pain-filled intensity, Lialt flinched as though a lash had touched him, and Telion gave the appearance of a small child whose trust had been betrayed.

“Wench, do not speak so,” said Telion in a rush, as though the words poured of themselves from his lips. “Such bitterness and pain! By the Serene Oneness, there are none here who would see you cut so deep from such memories. Are there no other, warmer memories with which to replace them? Was there not laughter and joy as well as hurt for you among us?”

“What laughter and joy might a wench find among the followers of the accursed Oneness?” asked Chaldrin in a growl, his left fist nearly white about the hilt of his sword. “I have heard her speak before concerning her time in your midst, and were you not in possession of the word of Sigurr’s Shadow concerning your safety—”

“And what might her time have been like among the followers of Sigurr the foul?” demanded Telion, straightening to the fullness of his height to meet the blaze in Chaldrin’s dark eyes. “For what reason do you all ring her about so closely, as though fearful of what words she would speak were none to halt her? Does she truly wish your presence, or does fear of you keep her from sending you all from her, so that those who truly care for her may stand beside her? I am unable to believe . . . ”

“Those who truly care for her already stand beside her!” snarled Chaldrin, so completely bereft of his usual calm that he seemed nearly a stranger. “Were you familiar with the true nature of this wench, you would know that fear is no part of her! Neither in battle with words nor in battle with swords does fear touch her, and never shall it . . . .”

“To allow a wench to enter battle with weapons is to show naught of true care for her!” snapped Ceralt, adding his heated glare to that which Telion already sent Chaldrin. “Should a man’s feelings be truly deep, he will keep her from danger of maiming or death! For her sake and his own will he do the thing, accepting her wailings and moanings concerning his cruelty with the strength of knowing he labors in the cause of right!”

“The cause of right!” echoed Mehrayn in full ridicule, standing himself beside Chaldrin to draw the gaze of Ceralt. “Should one consider one’s own comfort as the cause of right, then to behave in such a manner would indeed be the thing he claims. To be truly a man is to know that one may not keep a wench from doing as she must, just as he does as he must. And in being truly a man one refrains from handing his wench about, else is she not his and he no man at all. A true man needs no aid from others to bring his wench to satiety.”

“What satiety might be gotten from a sword’s edge?” demanded Ceralt, furiously. “Should what the wench must do include lying half dead in her own blood, covered by the wounds of uncounted spear thrusts, does one merely step to the side and smile fondly, allowing the thing? Truly would such an action prove the doings of a man—were he a man with no thought for the wench save her use! He would then find little difficulty in keeping the taste of her his alone. Few others would so relish the use of one about to be taken to the arms of the gods.”

“Such things occur at times with one who is by birth a warrior,” said Mehrayn, his voice bleak as he looked at Ceralt. “Should a man be other than a warrior himself, he will find himself lacking in understanding of this truth—and would do well to take himself from warriors’ concerns.”

“One need not be called warrior to be well-versed in weapons use,” said Ceralt bleakly. “To turn from what another declares to be truth is to fail to face it and prove it a lie. Should the name warrior conceal a lack of stomach for keeping a willful wench from risking herself as she pleases, I find myself inordinately pleased to be called other than that.”

“One called warrior will stand beside the wench, raising his blade in support of her, seeing that she comes to no harm from her willfulness!” growled Mehrayn, he and Ceralt nearly nose to nose. “To feel it necessary to bind a willful wench is to declare oneself no warrior, no man, no thing of any sort worthy of notice! Should she overstep the bounds of good sense, she need only be punished somewhat to restore her sense of the proper. She need not be bound hand and foot!”

“Should binding her be the sole manner in which she might be kept unharmed, no man would hesitate!” returned Ceralt, his growl as deep as Mehrayn’s. “Nor would he hesitate to give her a good taste of the leather, should that be what she requires! Willful wenches must be tamed and taught to live in a man’s world, else shall the hands of all men be raised against her!”

“No man would allow the hands of other men to be raised against his woman, were she the most willful to have ever lived!” countered Mehrayn, fists upon hips as he glared upon Ceralt. The male who was the Belsayah High Rider stood the same, and no longer did I bother to hear the great foolishness they both spouted. Males were filled with incredible foolishness, and one must truly be bereft to give heed to them.

All those who stood about were deeply engrossed in the words exchanged by the two males, each according to his or her place. Rilas listened avidly with a great attentiveness upon her, Ennat gazed upon the two with bemusement and lack of understanding, Aysayn seemed nearly prepared to intrude upon the disagreement, Chaldrin stood at Mehrayn’s elbow, Telion and Lialt at Ceralt’s, and Galiose appeared to be both listening closely and lost in thought. S’Heernoh alone found naught save amusement in the antics of the two, a soft, secret chuckling to be heard from him, in no manner the same as the low, ridiculing laughter of those warriors who stood about. Warriors will often find amusement in the foolishness of males, but this fey I did not. As it was necessary to have those males about, it was equally as necessary that they be taught a proper manner of behavior.

Without hesitation I moved to the nearest warrior who held a spear, took the weapon from her, then made my way to the disputants. Telion and Chaldrin stared with surprise when I halted between them, yet could do no more than stare. Quickly and with the strength of my annoyance did I use the haft portion of the spear to rap sharply at the shin of first Ceralt and then Mehrayn, ending their exchange and sending them back from each other with yelps of pain. Save for the two males and myself, all those standing about laughed heartily as I looked with little approval upon the two who hopped about one-legged, holding or rubbing their injured limbs.

“Should the matter of safe conduct be ended, the war leader Jalav shall see first to the spilling of blood,” said I, sending an icy gaze first to one and then to the other of them. “Even warriors-to-be, not yet large enough to lift a sword, would know and understand the need to see to the strangers before other considerations. Long have I known that males are less than the youngest of warriors-to-be, yet had I not expected proof of that at so poor a time. Should you all wish to squabble among yourselves, the Midanna are well able to see to the strangers with none save their own.”

“No, no, wench, we shall not allow this to occur again,” said Aysayn, clearly attempting to swallow his laughter as he put a hand to Mehrayn’s arm. Galiose, one hand arub upon his face, held Ceralt in a similar manner, the while the two who had faced one another now looked angrily upon she who had separated them. “Perhaps it would be best if we were to take a short while apart,” said Sigurr’s Shadow, “and only then attempt discussion upon the matter foremost in our minds.”

“Before that, we must discuss the coming strangers,” said S’Heernoh with such bland innocence that all of the males save Ceralt and Mehrayn again began chuckling. Clearly had the comment meaning for males, yet such are the minds of males that they are able to see meaning where those of fuller reason find none. I spent no useless thought upon the matter, turning instead toward Linol, war leader to the Hersa.

“Sister, we have those who require places to rest themselves,” said I, moving forward to return the spear to the Helda warrior I had taken it from. “Conduct them to those places, and allow them their rest. Should any join again in heated exchange, however, show them the dungeons instead, and make no great effort to recall the cells in which they are left.”

I turned about to gaze upon the males as Linol chuckled her agreement and gathered a number of her warriors to her with a gesture, seeing that the greater number of males chuckled as well. Again Ceralt and Mehrayn alone found no amusement in the happenings, a thing Ceralt made clear as he and his companions reached the place where I stood.

“I trust the—war leader will graciously find a pair of reckid later, so that she and I might speak,” he murmured, looking down upon me with a look I well recalled. “It has clearly been too long a time since last we did so.”

The look was then gone, as was the male, he and the others following after Linol and her Hersa. Lialt grinned well as he passed, clearly having heard Ceralt’s words, the insolence of both doing well with increasing my annoyance. At such a time one has little need of additional sources of irritation, yet at such a time one need not look far for them.

“I find little amusement in your manner of doing, wench,” said Mehrayn in a growl, his green eyes full displeased as he looked down upon me. “Once before we spoke of your raising weapons to me, yet clearly the matter requires further discussion. When once I am able to walk again, I shall seek you out for the discussion.”

Then did the Sigurri and S’Heernoh follow after the previous set of males, blessedly leaving behind no others than Midanna. The clamor of them all had brought a throbbing to my head, as though many males stood within and hammered to be released. I put a hand to the throbbing and sought to rub it from me, yet Rilas appeared before me with the rubbing only just begun.

“Truly do some blessings have their dark sides,” said she, looking up into my eyes with an attempt at understanding. “For what purpose have these males been brought here, Jalav?”

“Surely for the purpose of stealing my reason and leaving me gibbering,” said I with an edge to my voice which nevertheless brought amusement to Ennat. “Should I continue to find victories which involve males such as those, likely will I fail to survive.”

“I believe the war leader would do well to seek rest of her own, Rilas,” said Ennat with a smile. “And surely are there words which you and she would wish to exchange, alone and uninterrupted. You and I may speak later, after I, too, have rested.”

“Ennat, your wisdom has no need of enlarging,” said Rilas, turning to her sister Keeper with a smile of gratitude. “Already does it encompass understanding beyond the efforts of those about you. Please accompany us till we reach the place you may rest yourself.”

With a nod of agreement Ennat stepped back to allow me to pass her, a thing which I did with both eagerness and hesitancy. My eyes found little pleasure in the glaring brightness of Mida’s light, yet was the thought of being enclosed within the walls of a dwelling dispiriting. So pleased was I to be rid of the males and in a place where they might not force their presence upon me, however, that the walls we stepped within were welcome. Cool was the air between the pink stone of walls, floor and ceiling, blue cloth hung about upon some of it, small and large platforms standing here and there along the halls, some with seats, some without. Also were there those who were city males and females, moving about the dwelling with as much confidence as those warriors who did the same. No collars nor chains were there upon those who moved about so, yet did they look upon me with a deference which was nearly slave-like.

“Those who see to this dwelling for us seem somewhat in awe of you, Jalav,” said Rilas, noting where I looked as we walked the halls. “Surely do they recall you from our time of having first taken this place, and know you as she who commands those who command them. In accordance with your will, no longer are they slaves, a thing which filled them with joy when it was done, and now fills them equally with awe. Much do they prefer being servants to slaves.”

“Only the city-bred would find a difference in the states,” said I, increasingly annoyed. “Ever are those of the cities chained in one manner or another, and those of towns and villages as well. We, ourselves, will do well only when we have left them all far behind us. I live for the fey as I live for few others.”

No response came from Rilas, Ennat remaining silent as well, therefore did we continue along the hall, turning every now and again, until we came to a number of steps leading upward. Ennat continued to look all about her with endless curiosity as we took ourselves to the floor above, and when we reached a door not far from that which had been mine when first my warriors had taken the dwelling, Rilas halted and threw it wide.

“Accept this chamber as your own, Ennat,” said she, gesturing over a passing servant male. “This male will fetch daru and provender to you, and should you require aught else, you have only to speak of it to him.”

“You have my thanks, Rilas,” said Ennat, looking upon the male who had smiled at her before taking himself off to do the bidding of the Keeper. “There may perhaps be another thing he might see to.”

“The warriors he has already served have found him able to give much pleasure,” said Rilas, smiling with amusement at the manner in which Ennat followed the departing male with her eyes. “He feels neither humiliation nor resentment in being commanded to the service of warriors, therefore is the pleasure he gives unrestrained and untainted.”

“Should he have half the vigor of the Sigurri, I will indeed be well pleased,” said Ennat, turning to the chamber which had been given her. “May Mida guard you both till we stand together again.”

“And you, sister,” said Rilas, the warmth of her words unfeigned as she closed the door through which Ennat had passed. With that done her eyes came to me with a questioning frown, yet I avoided her gaze and strode off toward my own chamber, unwilling to answer the questions she would have attempted. The cloth beneath my feet was soft and warm, but little comfort did it provide for one in the midst of such turmoil as I.

No guard males in leather and metal stood before the doubled doors of my chamber as they had when the former High Seat had dwelled there, nor were there Midanna warriors in their place. I opened the doors and went in, fully expecting the windowless outer chamber to be dark and silent with disuse, instead finding many candles lit about the walls, illuminating the large chamber and the board piled high with provender and drink. My stride slowed as I looked about at the blue-silk-hung chamber, wondering at what use it had been put to in my absence, and the answer came without my having to voice the question.

“I ordered your chamber lit and provisioned as soon as word was brought me that you had been sighted without the city’s walls, Jalav,” said Rilas, the sound of the doors swinging shut accompanying her words. “Perhaps you would now care to sit and share daru, and speak to me of what occurs all about us.”

“The will of the gods occurs all about us,” said I, moving toward the board and the daru it held. “How has the time passed for you behind the walls of this city, Rilas?”

“The time has passed with surprising ease, war leader,” said she, coming to stand behind me. “The males called Council of the High Seat at first tried to prescribe what must be done by our warriors and what must not, yet were they quickly taught that warriors do as they are bidden by their war leaders. The fey after your departure saw three males give challenge to three of your war leaders, they apparently believing that to claim war leadership of a clan was a mere matter of donning a blade and declaring one’s intentions. When the three lay unmoving in their own blood, those of the city who had come to see their victory turned away silent and frightened, no longer of the belief that Midanna war leaders are to be bested by any with no more than a will to do so.”

I turned from the board after removing and placing my swordbelt upon it, in my hands the two cups of daru I had poured. I then gave one to Rilas, kept the other, and gestured her to join me upon the floor cloth. The daru had cooled from the time it had first been heated, yet was most welcome as it slid down my throat.

“For a number of feyd thereafter, there was naught to be heard from those of the city, save the unending requests and suggestions from those termed the Council,” said Rilas, sipping from her own cup as she looked upon me with lidded eyes. “I spent considerable time upon the question of which males the clans were to free and which they were to retain, having naught else which required consideration, and then came a male asking to speak with you, one of those who had been released from the place beneath this dwelling.”

I nodded my understanding, recalling those unfortunates who had been enclosed in cells beneath the dwelling of the High Seat, that place called dungeons by males. None were able to discover what grievous acts had been committed by those so imprisoned, save that they had in one manner or another displeased the male called High Seat. I had decided to release the lot of them, and those males called Council had assisted me.

“When the male learned that he would be unable to speak with you,” said Rilas, “he agreed to speak instead with she who was left to consider matters in your place. He seemed not yet past the ordeal he had been made to suffer, his body thin, his eyes filled still with the memory of pain and terror, although he spoke warmly of the kindness he had been shown by those warriors who had seen to his well-being when first he had been removed from his confinement. He had thereafter returned to his home in the city, yet had he found much amiss. With the absence of the males called guardsmen, those who had found defeat at our hands during the attack, none were about to halt those few who preyed upon the many. Indeed had the most of these who took from others banded together, and although one or two might have the courage to resist them individually, none were able to stand against the entire band. Urgent pleas had been put before those males called the Council, yet had this male who spoke and the others like him been told that naught might be done till the Midanna had departed and the Council ruled the city. What would be done at that time was not spoken of, yet would all be seen to once the invaders were gone from the city.”

I leaned down to my left elbow upon the soft blue floor cloth, smiling faintly at the way those unskilled with weapons nevertheless attempted attack against those who had defeated them. The males of the city had little or no ability with the swords they often wore, yet were their numbers far greater than the numbers of the victorious Midanna. Had the males of the Council succeeded in arousing deep anger within the breasts of those greater numbers, they might well have seen the Midanna overwhelmed. The perpetually craven are well used to stabbing the back of one they had not the stomach to face, no matter the harm brought to others by such an action.

“My course of action then seemed clear,” said Rilas, looking toward me as she spoke of her decision. “As it had been our doing that these males and their slave-women no longer had the protection of those in leather and metal, it was demanded by honor that we, ourselves, stand their protection. Tilim agreed at once to lead her Happa into the city to where the male would direct them, and once they had departed I saw Katil and her Harra gone silently after them. I knew not whether the male had spoken the truth, you see, and could not allow a single clan to enter an area where they might be taken by greater numbers lying in hiding.”

I nodded in understanding and allowed my smile to warm in approval, showing Rilas that she had done as I would have. Had I been there I, myself, would have accompanied the Happa, yet were Rilas’s warrior days a far distance behind her. Her own presence would have been more hindrance than help, and she had been wise indeed to acknowledge that fact.

“The Happa found that the male had spoken the truth,” said Rilas, strengthened, now, by my approval. “Those who had formerly taken no more than unliving possessions were in the process of taking a small number of slave-females for their own use when Katil and her clan arrived, a doing which was quickly ended by Happa swords. One of those who had come to steal was no more than knocked senseless, and when the others were seen to he was revived. The daggers of two of the Happa convinced the male to reveal where his brothers waited, and then did the Happa go there and see to the balance of them. No single thief-male escaped their swords, and those who had been prey to the set sent up a joyous yelling and shouting that nearly tore down the dwellings all about. A feast was then declared, and the Happa were stuffed nearly to bursting by those who cavorted and sang.”

Rilas drank deep of the daru she held, looking down upon it, then sighed wearily.

“It was then necessary to seek further for what mischief those Council males might well have been brewing,” said she, rubbing at her eyes with her free hand. “With the aid of Drilinar, the male who had come seeking our assistance, I was able to learn of the doings of those of this city. I shall not weary you with each point brought forth for me, Jalav, yet must I ask you to believe me without doing as I did, demanding to see with my own eyes that which I found incredible.

“City males are divided into many small groups, each group performing a chore which needs seeing to, each taking that which is termed payment from his brothers for doing what they have neither the time nor the skill to see to themselves. The division seems necessary to the city males, and also do they look upon it as desirable, for none of them would wish a-seat, let us say, made with less than utmost skill, even should they lack that skill themselves. The difficulty which then obtained was that all seat-makers—and hunters, and warriors, and those who engaged in trade, and those who repaired dwellings, and those who offered any skill of any sort—allowed no more than a set number to join their group, and all others were forbidden to engage in the practice without their let. These groups are termed ‘guilds,’ and none cared that others might face starvation and death through their denial; too many members would lessen payment for each. Should one wish a seat one could not build for oneself, one must trade with the seat-maker’s guild, accepting what was offered, for no others were permitted to offer as good or better. All were caught up in this mindlessness, and none seemed able to end it, not to speak of seeing the need for ending it. Far better to watch the suffering of others, give them crumbs from the feast you yourself indulged in, then smile with the pleasure such generosity brought. To aid them to stand alone was too great a risk, for once standing those who were looked down upon might well prove as tall and strong as those who had previously laughed and sneered.”

Rilas rose to her feet to refill her cup of daru, and I was able to see the anger which now accompanied her weariness. I had no true understanding of those city-male doings of which she had spoken, yet did I deem it unwise to interrupt her speaking. Our Keeper had not had so effortless a stay in that city as she would have had me believe, but Midanna rarely acknowledged pain and difficulty. Far better to deny it in silence, and thereby find victory over the memory of it the sooner.

“Suffice it to say that the guilds are no more,” said Rilas, turning back to me with her cup refilled. “It took the presence of more than one of the clans to see it so, yet are all now free to do as they will, be it seat-making or trading or hunting or what have you. Those who wish to do a thing simply do it; should they possess the skill to do it well, many come seeking their services. For those who do the thing badly, there are none about to protect them from their lacks. They either seek out another thing to do, else do they, themselves, face starvation. A number of those without skill chose instead to take what they might no longer demand, therefore was it necessary to have warriors ever about, to keep the helpless from again becoming prey. A large number did we eject from the city, those who although without skill of their own, were masters to others who labored at various chores. These masters attempted to incite their followers against us and the folk we protected, but I refused to allow that to continue. Also did I deem it wise to have other warriors begin the training in weapons of those who showed the most promise. When once we depart from here, those who look to us for protection will no longer be able to do so, therefore must we leave those in our place to do the thing for us.”

“Males,” said I with a good deal of distaste, swallowing my daru to chase away the flavor of the thought. “City males who will wait no longer than the moment the gates close behind us to do the same to their brothers as was previously done. Who will the helpless then weep to?”

“Jalav, we cannot turn city folk into Midanna, even were we to make the attempt,” said Rilas, once more seating herself opposite me. “We are able to do no more than allow them the opportunity to see to themselves. Perhaps by then they will have learned not to place themselves in bondage to others. Would you now care to speak of the disturbance you feel, the disturbance which sits so heavily upon your shoulders?”

“Certainly,” said I with a shrug, watching her as she looked concerned even as I sipped again at my daru. “Which disturbance would you hear of first, Rilas? As there are so large a number of them, the choice of which to begin upon may as well be yours.”

“War leader, I do not seek to intrude,” said she softly. “Well aware am I of the error I made when I last insisted that you speak upon something you clearly had no wish to discuss. Had the males drawn weapons the fault would have been mine, yet I still do not understand the basis for their disagreement. It was you they discussed, was it not?”

“Indeed,” said I, grimacing with disgust. “Indeed was I the object of their discussion, for each of the males believes I am his alone, his to possess no matter the will of others. Such is the male manner of doing, a thing I have long since lost patience for.”

“They look upon a war leader of the Midanna as though she were a city slave-woman?” demanded Rilas, indignation straightening her where she sat. “They would dare so mindless a thing in the presence of her warriors? With her weapons and the love of Mida wrapped firmly about her? Have they no further desire to continue with their lives?”

“Their desire has little to do with continuing their lives,” said I, annoyed. “My time of capture to Ceralt you already know of, the manner in which he attempted to keep me from warrior doings during the occasion of our journey to Mida’s Realm upon this world. My time with Mehrayn was not the same, for the male truly wishes to see me with the prerogatives of a warrior—yet not with the prerogatives of a war leader. The use I have from him is strong and bold, overeager and ever-pleasing, yet does he refuse to accept that another might momentarily interest me, if only for the comparison. Nearly a hand of feyd past, the while we brought Midanna and Sigurri toward this city, I came upon a Sigurri warrior I had not previously seen. The male was not so large as others, yet was he more well-endowed than any other I had ever seen, and curiosity overcame me. The male swam in a stream a distance from his brothers, his golden body completely unclothed, and when he saw me gazing upon him from the bank, he swam to where I stood and pulled himself from the water.”

I sighed deeply, recalling the time most clearly, and Rilas smiled knowingly, for she, too, had been a warrior.

“He stood before me, the water falling from his pale hair, a smile of willingness upon the broadness of his face, and then he reached out a hand to put a finger to my swordbelt, ” said I, sipping from the daru to cool the warmth of the memory. “His smile turned quickly to a grin of challenge, for he dared me to put away the trappings of a warrior and join him in a battle of another sort; I discovered willingness within me, therefore did I remove my swordbelt, and then moved forward to press my body to his. The strength in his arms took no note of my weight as he put me to the grass with him, and then was my breech opened and pulled away, to allow his hands to move about me more easily. Soon were we joined in the battle of pleasure, and although I found the time enjoyable, I discovered as well that he had not the ability which Mehrayn possesses. We each found release, lay a moment beside one another, then went our separate ways as is done after a pause such as that.”

I rose to my feet as Rilas nodded, refilled my cup with daru, then turned again to look down upon her. “I know not how Mehrayn learned of the time, yet did he certainly learn of it,” I continued, remembering the annoyance that I had felt then. “He pulled me to the back of his kan, rode a good distance from the presence of both Midanna and Sigurri, then attempted to berate me for having taken another in his place. I cared little for such male foolishness and spoke my own words in anger at his gall, yet did he refuse to heed the voice of reason. He gave ear to none of it and instead took himself off, leaving me to return to our camping place on foot. My fury had grown so high by the time of my return, that I set Renin and her Sonna all about the place I had chosen to take my rest. When, after we had fed and all about sought their sleeping leather, and the male appeared to join me as always, the Sonna, obedient to my word, refused him passage through their ranks. Surely did the male howl in anguish for hind, yet was refused that darkness and each darkness thereafter. Males!”

“Indeed are they best avoided when not giving use,” said Rilas, thoughtfully. “Only now do I find meaning in the heated words exchanged a short while ago. He of the dark hair wishes to see you kept from all battle, the while he of the flame hair wishes to see you kept from all other males. They are both of them mad, to believe Mida would allow her chosen to be subject to such denial.”

Rilas then looked toward me with the scorn she felt, believing I would show the same, yet had she touched upon a point of much graver concern than the doings of males. I put the daru to my lips and drank deep of it, and when I lowered the cup I saw that she stared with something closely akin to fear.

“Surely did I misread your expression when I made mention of the goddess,” said she, her voice as soft as her eyes were widened. “Jalav, you are Mida’s chosen, sworn to her till the end of your feyd, more beloved than any before you! You have gathered and led the host which will vanquish her enemies! I could not have seen the look of blood-feud upon you at mention of her name!”

“Indeed shall I vanquish Mida’s enemies,” said I, turning from the wounded gaze which held to me so tightly. “I shall find victory over the strangers as I have vowed to do, at last completing this task which has become well-nigh endless, and should I survive the doing, I will then see the Hosta freed. Once that, my final duty, has been seen to, I shall then return to Sigurr’s Peak where Mida’s Realm upon this world may be found. Once there—once there, she and I will speak of denial, and of the giving of pain, and of the spilling of blood. Jalav will be free to ride and do as she wills, else will she be one with the endless dark.”

“Jalav, no,” whispered Rilas from behind me, having stood from the floor cloth to place a hand upon my shoulder. “No mortal may do battle with a god!”

“So had I thought,” I responded grimly, gazing upon the blue silk which clothed the wall opposite to where I stood, no more than silver wall sconces breaking the span of it. “No mortal may do battle with a god, yet have we mortals been set by Mida to meet and best the strangers. In her wisdom, Ennat spoke a truth which I had not previously seen: are not the enemies of gods themselves gods? Should it be beyond possibility for mortals to find victory over gods, for what reason have we been commanded to battle with the strangers? No, Rilas, battle is more than possible, and I shall have it even should it be the end of me.”

“I find it impossible to comprehend for what reason you have been brought to such sacrilegious determination,” said Rilas, her hand gone from my shoulder, the greater part of upset gone from her voice. “That Mida allows and demands such beliefs from you is clear, yet do I fail to see the purpose of it. Well may such purpose even include the males.”

“It cannot be that Mida desires battle thought in me,” said I, turning to look upon a now thoughtfully vexed Rilas. “For what reason would she wish to face me?”

“For what reason would she not?” demanded Rilas in turn, annoyed at having been drawn from the depths of her thoughts. “Is a goddess to fear the skill of a mortal warrior? Is Mida to back in uncertainty from one whose every breath is taken in accordance with the will of that goddess? I now see the basis for your disturbance, Jalav, for you have forgotten, in your upset, that all which occurs is by Mida’s will. You, and I, and all those about us, act only in accordance with that will.”

Having spoken the words which were to her merely explanation, Rilas then turned from me and sought again her place upon the floor cloth. Her thoughts had already resubmerged her in private considerations, therefore did she see naught of the annoyance which surely flared within me. For what reason it had not occurred to me that my thirst for vengeance might well be inspired by the goddess herself, I knew not, yet did I certainly know that I had no wish for it to be so. To encourage a war leader of Midanna to stand before one in challenge as though that war leader were no more than a warrior-to-be was deep insult; more than enough insult had been given me during the task which now neared completion. Little desire had I to find more.

In continuing annoyance and growing frustration I turned to the board of provender, chose a wing and leg of roast lellin, and began to eat. For what reason would it be Mida’s wish that I challenge her? Should it be the goddess’s desire to see me fall, the doing might more easily be accomplished in the battle which was to come. It might well have been that Mida wished me in her Realm so that I might be punished for insolence and sacrilege, yet would she be well aware of the fact that I would accept the final dark sooner than submit to such a thing. That I could not be forced to bow to her was clear from the fact that I had clearly seen to the task given me according to my own preferences, and that would not have been permitted had I merely moved to the desires of she for whom I rode. To believe I was determined to give challenge only through the will of another was infuriating and I refused to entertain the possibility. The wisdom of Rilas was well known to all, yet did I refuse to believe that she was right this time.

I had put aside my pot of daru so that I might clean the meat from the lellin bones, yet was my interest in feeding gone after no more than a few bites. I returned the section of lellin to the board with an impatient toss, took a cloth upon which I wiped the grease from my hands, then retrieved my daru to accompany me as I prowled about the chamber.

What purpose other than my own would be served by my challenging Mida? The thought nagged at me as I paced from the board of provender toward the raised area of the chamber, a platform upon which the former High Seat of Bellinard was wont to display himself. I recalled how he had appeared when my warriors and I had first entered the chamber, carelessly unconcerned in his arrogance, sprawled at his ease in the large, intricately carved, silk-covered seat, surrounded by slave females who instantly saw to his every wish. Much alike are males everywhere, seeking always to be served, taking for their own the females they desire—

I stopped abruptly, the cup of dare poised nearly at my lips. Suddenly it occurred to me what purpose other than my own would be served, should I challenge Mida. I would then be there, in Mida’s Realm upon this world, a domain which stood beside that of Sigurr. Once again I would be there, yet where Mida’s protection had been mine when first I had visited there, a second appearance would not find it the same. Only Mida’s will had kept me from claiming by Sigurr a fate the shadow of which had nearly ended me. To recall the time was to taste of terror, to shudder in revulsion and horror, to swallow down in vain the illness which rose with bitter bile.

Quickly I crouched where I had halted, head swirling dizzily, heart pounding as though I ran headlong, the air in the chamber suddenly insufficient for my lungs. Could such a thing truly be Mida’s purpose, to lure me with foolish thoughts of challenge to a place where I might be taken by Sigurr? Much unexpected pleasure had Sigurr had from me, so Mida had said. The dark god of males had been taken with me, I had been told, his interest high in she who had given him deeper release than any other mortal female. I swallowed down my daru quickly, emptying the cup and then dropping it, then wrapped my arms about myself in an effort to free my body of the ice deep within. Sigurr would seek me again, so Mida had said, and perhaps do a thing never before done. What that might be I had no wish to know; what I had already learned of Sigurr was more than any mortal should know, more than any would care to know.

Again my thoughts returned to my time in Mida’s Realm upon this world, a realm which lay beside that of the dark god. At first I had thought that the two domains were kept from one another save when captives were taken, yet I had learned there were other times when they were brought together. Few indeed were the outsiders who found their way through the cold and snow of the north to reach the caverns below Sigurr’s Peak, however those who were called Midanna and Sigurri had need of new lives to maintain and increase their numbers. I had stood watching from the shadows when goddess and god summoned all who followed them, bringing male and female together in a great cavern and commanding them to their duty. I had thought to see pleasure indulged in, for in such a manner are new warrior lives brought forth, yet had there been no trace of pleasure, neither for Midanna nor Sigurri. In truth it had chilled me to see that no single pair failed to find discomfort, disgust, and even pain at the coupling, all suffering grim and hated requirement rather than a sharing of eagerness. It had come to me then with a flash of understanding that the gods themselves kept pleasure from their followers, allowing them such feelings only when they forced use from captives and slaves, as the two gods demonstrated when the grimness was completed. The male chosen by Mida had attempted to contain his fear, but the female claimed by Sigurr had screamed and screamed and screamed . . . .

And yet, I thought, throwing off the distraction of memory, Sigurr might be avoided simply by failing to stand before Mida in challenge. The goddess’s feelings of insult were clearly deep, yet should I refuse to place myself within Sigurr’s easy reach, I would then be a source of frustration rather than satisfaction—yet would my own frustration remain! I had no wish to forgo the giving of challenge, however I failed to see how it might be done save by standing too near the one I wished to shun.

I sat up upon the floor cloth, my knees drawn up, my arms about them, my annoyance burning higher and higher. Never would I or any Midanna warrior seek safety by standing behind the presence of another, yet was I able to see Mida’s actions in no other light. To taunt the one who was war leader to every Midanna who raised sword, to cause that war leader shame and pain, to inflict agonies and humiliation, to deny her the males she would have chosen, and then to refuse challenge! No Midanna would ever have acted so, and to think that Mida herself would engage in so foul a doing was nearly inconceivable! I had wondered at the temerity of inspiring such anger in a Midanna war leader without thought of consequence, yet had the consequences been well thought upon—and likely laughed at. What need to fear the anger of a war leader, when that war leader would be too well occupied with the doings of another to consider anger?

And for what reason had Ceralt been led to that place, just at that time? Mehrayn accompanied me out of necessity, yet the presence of Ceralt was not the same. For what reason had both of the males I found interest in been brought together, the males Mida had wished to deny me? I no longer believed in the innocence of such happenings, that no purpose was to be served through their occurrence. There was purpose aplenty—which must be discovered before it might be understood and countered. For this foolishness to be sent to bedevil me now, when the strangers were nearly upon us, was a distraction I had no need of, yet could not avoid. I would not allow the goddess, in her anger with me, to bring harm to others who were, in essence, blameless. That would be dishonorable.

I had stretched out upon the floor cloth on my back, left leg raised and right extended, unseeing eyes upon the chamber’s ceiling, thinking of the strangers, when yet another distraction came. Into my sight stepped a male, his face expressionless about eyes filled with hunger, his gaze coming down to me where I lay, his tongue moistening his lips. Although the previous serving males I had seen had been clothed with blue tied about their waists, this male who looked down upon me wore naught in the way of covering, nor was he free. The slave collar clasped his neck, and he seemed somehow familiar. I frowned at his abrupt appearance; however he, himself, showed only the trace of a smile.

“Mistress, I have been sent by the master called Aysayn to ask a thing of you,” said he, his voice rough despite the softness of his tone and words. “The master would know what place is to be used for the meeting soon to be held, and would know as well if you agree that all participants should appear unarmed. I am told that you will be aware of the reason why that might be best.”

“I am indeed aware of such a reason,” said I, frowning, raising myself to sitting as the male crouched beside me. “In what manner were you given permission to enter this chamber?”

“Mistress, I am a slave,” said he, seeming amused. “Slaves have no need of asking permission, for their presence is not merely required, it is demanded. Also did I rap first upon your door, in an effort to keep from intrusion, yet no answer was vouchsafed me. As I was charged with bringing you a message, I considered it my duty to enter without specific response. I offer my apologies for having taken you from what were surely considerations of great import.”

Despite the smoothness of the slave’s speech, I forebore giving him answer as I twisted about where I sat, seeking the place where Rilas had been. No longer was the Keeper there, nor was she then within the chamber; clearly had I been so deep in thought, that I had heard no more of her departure than I had heard of the arrival of the male. For what reason she had departed without speaking further words to me I knew not, yet was that a question the answer to which must be sought out another time.

“You may take my reply to the male Aysayn,” said I, straightening again to search the floor cloth for the emptied cup I had earlier dropped. “Tell him that the meeting may be held here, where there is provender and drink aplenty, and also that I concur with his thoughts regarding weapons. Should he have difficulty extracting agreement from our guests, have him recall to them the number of warriors in this place. Should it be necessary to state the request more than once, the second instance will no longer see it as a request.”

I began, then, to raise myself from the floor, my intent being to refill the cup I had retrieved, yet the left hand of the slave came to my shoulder, his right to the cup I held.

“Allow me to see to that, Mistress,” said he, taking the cup with a strange smile. “I will, of course, deliver the message—once I have seen to the needs of my mistress. ”

He straightened from his crouch and stepped past me toward the board with provender and daru, taking no note of the way my eyes followed him. I had a great dislike of slaves, male and female both, yet the actions of the male seemed somewhat strange, even for one in bondage. Silently I rose to my feet, walked behind the male to the board, then stood awaiting the end of his task. When he turned again with the cup refilled he started, nearly spilling the daru, greatly surprised that I stood so near behind him.

“What is it you seek here, male?” I asked, taking the cup from him before he regained his composure. The male stood perhaps three fingers above me, broad enough of shoulder yet more slender than muscled, dark hair with dark eyes as well.

“I seek only to serve you, Mistress,” said he, with difficulty. “I would serve the mistress completely, in every way demanded of me, in every way I might. ” And then he had gone to his knees, bent, and pressed his lips to my foot. “I beg you to command me, mistress,” he whispered, his eyes no longer upon me. “A slave begs for the favor of his mistress.”

The male remained upon all fours, his head bowed, his body held in the tension of misery. I stepped back, surprised, and looked down upon him with curiosity.

“In a dwelling filled with Midanna warriors, what need would there be for a male to beg use?” I asked, sipping at the daru I held. “Have my warriors been too immersed in other matters to take note of you?”

“So you do, indeed, fail to recall me,” said the slave, raising his head slowly to bring his gaze to my face. “I had thought you merely toyed with me, sought to have me beg for that which I—” His words ended as his head shook briefly, a negation of the useless, and then he sighed deeply. “I was a slave here in the palace when you and your wenches took it,” said he, a good deal of bitterness to be heard in the soft pain of his voice. “I attempted to secure my freedom through service to one of your wenches, but you discovered my attempt and ended it before it might achieve its goal. As you see, I continue to find failure in achieving it.”

“Now do I recall you,” said I, gazing down upon the male who knelt with head hanging and defeat all through him, a large measure of satisfaction accompanying the memory. “It was you, was it not, who attempted to force a vow from my warrior through the use of your body? That I aided her should give you no surprise, for I am the war leader of her war leader. In what manner should this have brought you to your present state?”

“Are you unable to recall your commands?” demanded the male, his skin darkening as he continued to avoid my eye. His state was clear enough to any who looked upon him, the smell of need strong beside the look, unable to control what he felt despite his humiliation. “It was your command that I not be used save with that drug in me, and with the number of men taken as captives, your wenches found no need for the drug!” he cried. “At first I was well pleased to find no need for tickling wenches who arrogantly strode about, and then the feyd passed and more feyd beyond those. I—am a man, with the needs of a man, unable to be among nearly naked wenches, seeing them give release to other men, and feel naught myself! It was occasionally possible, then, to catch a slave wench and use her to see to my need, and then the slave wenches and a good number of the men slaves were freed to become servants! It was then no longer possible to touch the ones I had previously used, for they would have run weeping to your warriors. I have not had a woman in more feyd than I am able to count, more feyd than I am able to bear! No man should be done in this way!”

The male wept in truth then, his fists clenched tight as his head lowered to his knees, his shoulders rounded and shaking, his body racked by sobs. I had not envisioned such an end when I had given my commands concerning him, and I stood a moment studying him, sipping my daru, before giving voice to my thoughts.

“I see your punishment has been truly fitting, male,” I said at last, finding little sympathy within me which might have softened the words. “To use pleasure to achieve one’s ends is dishonorable and merits failure and punishment. Had you sought to give no more than pleasure, you would have received the same, and likely your freedom as well; as you sought only baseness in use, so have you received only baseness. Rarely is an open hand shown to a stranger by Midanna; should that open hand be spurned and spat upon, it will not be offered a second time.”

“And yet, wenches may use their bodies to secure what they desire!” rasped the male, his voice rough yet with the moisture which covered his cheeks, his head raising though he continued to avert his eyes. “They prance before a man and lure him, graciously allow him their use, then wheedle and demand all he is able to provide and more! Why should not men do the same? You warrior wenches take what you will as men would; for what reason may I not use my body to obtain what I desire?”

“What privileges a warrior has she has earned,” I replied, seeing in the slave the same lack of reason typical of all males. “You now reap what wrongful use of your body has earned you, just as wrongful use of a sword would earn for a warrior her enemy’s point in her belly. For what reason do you bemoan your lot, a lot which was earned, when a warrior does not?”

“A wench with a sword asks for a point in her belly,” muttered the male, wiping at his face with a forearm as he rose slowly to his feet to face me. “I did not ask to be done as I have been, I only sought a path to freedom. To be free is the right of a man.”

“To seek an honorable end through dishonorable means sullies the purpose as well as the seeker,” I returned, gesturing my loss of patience with the fool of a male. “Many seek to avoid the path they find themselves upon through their own actions, yet to no avail. You must walk your path till you have learned what place you walk through your own efforts, male, and then, perhaps, you will find a branching. You may return now to Aysayn with my reply.”

Annoyed, I began to turn from him then, but he reached for my arm, halting me before I had taken more than half a step.

“Perhaps I have already found a branching,” said he, and his gaze no longer avoided mine. “First I shall have what has so long been denied me, and then will I be accompanied by a well-used, black-haired wench beyond the gates of this accursed city. None will think to stop or question me as I command all others, and once I have attained my freedom, I will allow you the opportunity to earn your own. For now, however, I will allow only one thing.”

The male then began to pull me toward him, his intentions unmistakable, his courage clearly bolstered by the fact we were alone and my sword was out of reach. He was scarcely larger than I, yet were his shoulders broader by far, his strength the strength of a male with a female, his determination and need adding the push of desperation. Clearly the male anticipated victory in his efforts, and if I had not already been taught the usefulness of unarmed combat by the Sigurri, surely would he have had his victory; however, Chaldrin had not spent his breath in vain.

Though my left hand held a cup of daru and the male’s fingers held that arm, I was able to drop the cup, thrust my arm forward out of his grip, and then bring the elbow back with strength into his middle. Shocked, surprise was barely born upon his features before lack of air bent him double, and then I turned and brought my knee up sharply under his chin, straightening him once more and overstraightening him. Flat to the floor cloth was the male thrown, upon his back, much in the same position he had thought to have me. Pain brought his knees up somewhat as he rolled to his side, and dazedly he touched a finger to the blood on his lip.

“The war leader who commands all others is not so easily bested, male,” I said, distastefully. “Raise yourself to your feet now, and take to Aysayn the reply you were given.”

“But—I do not understand!” the male blurted, shock widening his eyes. “You will not call your warriors and have me thrown in chains and lashed? You will not take up your sword and spill my blood? Why do you fail to do so?”

“Because I shall not allow you to escape your punishment,” I replied, watching as he struggled to regain his feet. “Should you learn from that punishment and eventually regain your freedom, we will speak then of swords and of spilling blood, but never of chains and the lash. Now, take yourself from here.”

“I do not understand,” muttered the male, putting his hand through his hair and attempting to straighten himself as he made unsteadily for the door. “I do not understand now, nor do I expect to understand.”

With a final look of strangely composed expressions the male at last left to do my bidding, allowing me to retrieve the cup which had fallen to the floor cloth. Not far from the cup were the remains of the spilled daru, turning the blue of the floor cloth black, clearly showing the bounds of the spill. Less clearly defined were my reasons for having allowed the male to live, for the ways of the Midanna give the life of an attacker to she who is attacked, hers to take if she is able. Had I wished it, my dagger might have slid beneath the chin of the male as easily as my knee, perhaps even more easily, and yet I had not done him so. The true reasons for my having withheld death were not within my grasp, and I frowned as I went to pour more daru. Clearly I had spent too long a time among males, for much of their thoughtless foolishness had come to color my own doings.

The time was not long before the males began arriving. First to be heard was the sound of voices raised in disagreement, and then the doors to my chamber were thrown wide to allow the entrance of Galiose, Ceralt, Lialt, and Telion, with Aysayn, Mehrayn, Chaldrin, and S’Heernoh behind them. Galiose seemed greatly vexed, his walk an indignant stride, his grimace a declaration of his displeasure with the world about him. His dark eyes quickly found me where I sat at ease upon the floor cloth, beneath the bottom step of the platform which held the seat once used by the High Seat, my back against the tread of the bottommost step, my left leg drawn up so that my arm might rest upon it. His anger quickly brought him forward, and he halted perhaps two paces from where I sat.

“The foot of a man’s throne is the proper place for you, wench, yet not in such an insolent pose,” said he in a growl, putting fists to hips as he glared down at me. “Is this the manner in which your word upon our safety is kept? By denying us the possession of our swords? By denying us the presence of those brought with us?”

“You are guests within this dwelling, and guests have no need of weapons for their safety,” said I with a shrug, answering that part of his speech which held meaning for me. “To say that weapons are indeed required is to say your host is without honor, her word untrustworthy. As for the balance of your males, I have no knowledge of them.”

“The suggestion that they remain behind was mine,” said Aysayn, stepping forward while Galiose continued to glare at me, this time wordlessly. “There is little need for so many others to be about while we discuss what requires discussion. Should you later discover a need for their presence, you may send for them.”

“Send for them,” echoed Galiose in a grumble, sending toward Aysayn a look considerably darker than that which he had sent toward me. “And of what use will they be, as disarmed as the balance of us? For a wench to know naught of proper male dealings is to be expected, yet for a man to do the same as a wench—” Though outraged, Galiose’s sense of propriety kept him from being even more insulting then his attention turned to me again. “Where is the High Seat of Bellinard?” he demanded. “Have you slain him?”

“The High Seat of Bellinard is indeed no more,” said I with a further shrug, rising to my feet so that I might more easily see he who was High Seat of another place. “Earnestly was I assured that the male held his place through the blessing of his god, an approval which kept all others from challenging him for it. To test that I, myself, challenged that blessing, and met the High Seat’s chosen champion with swords. When his champion fell, the High Seat did the same, and was thereafter sent to the fate he had so often given to others. Whether he remains alive I know not; should it be your wish to take yourself beneath this dwelling to see, you have my permission to do so.”

The face of Galiose worked in silent agitation. Some paces behind him were his three companions, Telion in some manner amused, Lialt faintly annoyed, and Ceralt—expressionless despite the trace of anger in his light eyes. To the left of them, at a distance of no less than three paces, stood the three who accompanied Aysayn, their eyes as directly upon the first males as the gazes of those three fixed on me.

“As the matter of challenge has been mentioned,” I said, looking up into the disturbance of Galiose’s eyes, “perhaps you would be kind enough to say where the male called Nolthis is. It was my intention to seek him out when once the strangers had been seen to, yet there may be time enough before their arrival for a bit of—dallying.”

“Dallying,” echoed Galiose, looking down at me quizzically, no longer angry, yet more disturbed. “Since the fey I learned of what he had done to you, I well knew what sort of dallying you would seek with him were you ever to encounter him again. For that you have more than my apologies, wench, for I had never meant such a thing to be.”

“And his current whereabouts?” I pressed, uninterested in apologies. Words do naught to calm the battle lust in one, the need for vengeance, the memory of agony. No less than a meeting of swords will accomplish such an end, and I wet my lips in anticipation of such a meeting.

“He undoubtedly burns in the dark god’s realm,” said Galiose with a shrug of indifference. “I, myself, faced him when I learned of his doing, the fool eager in his belief that he might best me. So I informed Ceralt when he came seeking him, and now do I so inform you.”

I then looked at Ceralt, seeing the way his head came up, the way he looked upon me. Galiose had stolen the satisfaction which rightfully was mine, and the look Ceralt sent said he would have done the slime, proudly, happily, despite the lack of honor in such a doing. That’s how males regard vengeance, as though it were free for the taking. Midanna knew that vengeance belonged first to she who had been wronged, yet were these males far from the true honor of Midanna.

“Perhaps it would be best if we all now partook of what food and drink there is,” said Aysayn as I did no more than bring the insulted annoyance of my gaze back to a Galiose who saw naught of it. The male was well pleased with what he had done, unsuspecting of the additional debt now between us, yet Aysayn saw what Galiose did not. One must enter battle beside another in order to truly know them, and Aysayn and I had stood so together twice.

“At last we find a subject upon which we might agree,” said Galiose to Aysayn, a hint of humor now to be seen upon him. “Let us indeed fortify ourselves for the coming discussions—and against a possible extension of hospitality. It has come to me that those who are called High Seat are not looked upon with favor in this place.”

Aysayn chuckled with amusement at Galiose’s sally, and then did the two males take themselves off toward that place where the provender lay, drawing others with them. As I continued to hold a cup of daru I felt no inclination toward joining them, therefore I seated myself upon a step of the platform to sip from the cup, attempting to calm the frustration which filled me at thought of being deprived of Nolthis’s life. It would soon be necessary to speak with those males about the strangers, to ease their outrage and see them quickly upon their way, and for such a thing one cannot join their feelings of outrage. Soon enough the strangers would arrive, and there would be time enough for outrage.

“I saw you found the need to put my teachings to use, wench,” said Chaldrin in his calm, familiar rumble, sitting on the step to my left. “Did the slave attempt to do you harm?”

“The slave sought a different path from the one he strode,” I said, seeing the amusement in the dark of Chaldrin’s eyes. “Merely did I give him a glimpse of what other path he might find himself upon. For what reason do you fail to take sustenance, Chaldrin?”

“Perhaps for the same reason you fail to do so,” replied the male, still amused. “Ilvin sought me out in the place I had been given to take my rest, and with her were a number of those wenches who were closest sisters to her among her Hitta. The wench had spoken so highly of my prowess in the furs that the others were of a mind to try me themselves, and all had come to ask if I were willing. I have not yet given them my decision, for I had hoped to have Ilvin alone this darkness, yet has the proposal centered my attention upon hunger for other than that which your table provides.”

“Should you agree, I feel sure you will not damage Ilvin’s estimate of you, brother,” said I, sharing his amusement. “Should you feel uncertain as to your capacity, however, you have only to ask and I will have you provided with a small supply of that which is used to sustain what sthuvad are taken to serve the clans. Once in the grip of the drug, service to the entire clan of Hitta will not be beyond you.”

“My sister’s generosity is greatly appreciated, yet have I heard of this sthuvad drug from Ilvin and Wedin and Dotil,” he said, dryly. “As it is scarcely my wish to need to serve so large a number of wenches, I shall make do without. I wonder, however, if your thoughts have also been drawn to considerations of things other than sustenance, and yet also other than pleasure. You knew from S’Heernoh that these men would be here; is their presence the reason for the foulness of your humor these past feyd?”

“For what reason should it not be?” I demanded looking down at the cup I held. “Much shame and humiliation was mine through the efforts of each of them, and deep insult as well. Would you have me greet them as brothers, only just returned home after too-lengthy an absence?”

“And yet, they look upon you as something other than an enemy,” said he, his voice now soft. “Even he of the blue cloth and leather, despite his displeasure, has no true wish to see you harmed. Can it be your agitation stems from a source other than anger?”

“You believe I feel no anger at those about me?” I asked with a snort of ridicule. “Should that truly be your belief, brother, best would be that you decrease rather than increase your time in the furs. Clearly have you already performed too often, to the detriment of your intellect.”

“I believe you feel too great an anger at those about you,” he said calmly, ignoring my words. “So great an anger often conceals feelings of another sort. It also seems clear that your anger at Mehrayn these past feyd is meant to keep him at a distance from you. Are you unable to decide between the Sword and that dark-haired High Rider of the Belsayah?”

“All males are fools,” I muttered, staring malevolently at the one who called me sister. “What decisions Jalav must make over males are concerned only with their battle disposition, naught to do with individuals. She who leads all of the Midanna has little time for thoughts of dallying.”

“Should you mean to ignore the matter in the hopes that it will soon disappear and cease to be, you delude yourself, girl,” said he, a faint annoyance beginning in voice and eyes alike. “Neither Mehrayn nor that other will allow you to avoid decision, and best would be that you reach such a decision quickly. Should they come to the point of facing one another, the decision will have been taken from you.”

“Sound advice,” said another voice before I might reply to such an absurdity. I turned my head quickly to see Telion where he stood near enough to hear Chaldrin’s words. The male held a cup of daru and a half-eaten leg of lellin, and he sat himself beside me with a nod for Chaldrin.

“You must indeed come quickly to a decision,” said Telion, looking upon me with the light eyes I recalled so well. “Had Ceralt not had concern over the strangers to distract him, he would surely have gone mad the while his wounds healed. Ever were his thoughts upon you, ever were his fears tormenting him. Often, in the beginning, he would awake crying your name, the pain of his wounds fashioning danger and disaster for you in his sleep. He would shout and attempt defiance of Lialt, and then would Lialt and I find the need to force sleeping potions down his throat. Lialt had thought you were difficult to tend; Ceralt proved much the worse for him, and there was but one thing which kept him in his furs till his health returned: the promise that Lialt would search the Snows for your whereabouts when Ceralt was again able to ride. He has missed you sorely, wench, and will not depart without you unless he is made to believe another holds your heart—and then he will go only to await his ending.”

“Mehrayn, too, has had difficulty bearing your separation,” said Chaldrin, his words coming as I gazed silently upon an uncharacteristically sober Telion. “His sleep, too, has been disturbed, I am told, with the belief that for some unknown reason your feelings for him are no more, and you mean to turn your back on him. Much has he agonized over that, sitting unspeaking for hind and staring into nothingness, yet he refuses to burden you with his fears. In your presence he is as he ever was, and fades to a ghost of himself only when you are elsewhere.”

“Therefore must you come to a decision,” said Telion, his gaze now more felt than seen. “Ceralt and that red-haired Sigurri know well enough of their rivalry, therefore is it only a matter of time before they do as your large friend suggests and settle the matter between them. Do you truly wish to see one of them lying slain at your feet?”

Chaldrin attempted to add even more words to those already spoken, but I stood abruptly and walked away, unwilling to hear more. Had I wondered at Ceralt’s presence earlier, I now no longer wondered; he and Mehrayn were meant to face one another, and both were likely fated to fall. Had it been possible to walk the Snows all of us would have had warning—and yet, what likelihood was there that they would have heeded such warning? As males, they determined that none would presume to take that which they considered theirs? I raised the cup of daru to my lips and drained it, but that did not cool my quickly mounting rage. Mida would see the males destroy one another in contest over me, the males themselves would obey her wishes with pleasure and glee, and I—I was to favor one above the other, giving pain in the choice no matter how it was done, foolishly believing my decision would be respected. Clearly the goddess knew Jalav less well than she believed, less well than Jalav had grown to know males. Were I to reject one of the males, thinking to give brief pain and then see an end to the difficulty, I would quickly learn that was not the end of it. Males were stubborn, Mehrayn and Ceralt more so than most, and neither would walk away quietly. No matter the beliefs of Chaldrin and Telion, weapons would indeed be raised, and this I would not allow. The wishes of the goddess would not prevail, and the thought came that if I brought her sufficient frustration and anger, perhaps it would be unnecessary to seek her out afterward to give challenge. Best would be were she goaded into seeking me out, leaving Sigurr far behind in his own foul domain.

I looked up to find that all eyes rested upon me expectantly, as though ail were warriors eager for battle, awaiting the word of their war leader. I looked from one to another with a snort of derision, avoiding only Mehrayn and Ceralt, then walked among them all to the board and the daru it held. Many pitchers of daru had been provided for those who would drink with the war leader, but the males had taken little of it. Perhaps they disliked the strength of the drink, and wanted something a bit less potent.

“Am I mistaken in believing I heard words concerning your decision?” asked Aysayn at last, his eyes on me as I turned from the board with cup refilled. “We will, of course, allow you the time to see to any matter which needs attending, before we begin discussion upon the point which brought us together. Most especially should the matter be a serious one.”

A stirring came at the end of his words, as though all those who stood about wished to speak and yet dared not; only Chaldrin and Telion moved, as they brought themselves nearer to the board. I grew annoyed at such foolishness, for they waited, so they thought, to hear which male I would choose to follow, which male I would give my oath to obey. Were I to choose one over the other in accordance with their demands, such would be the decision I rendered, for no other sort of decision was acceptable to males. Clearly they failed to recall that Jalav was a warrior and war leader.

“The decision is of small consequence, and has already been made,” said I to Aysayn, sipping from my daru and giving no indication that I noted his increased attention. Indeed, the attention of all of the males was now even more completely upon me, as though I discussed the fate of our world.

“As the decision has already been made, perhaps you would care to share it with us,” said Aysayn, attempting a smile of comradeship through obvious symptoms of strain. “Has it to do with any of us who now stand within this room?”

“Oh, indeed,” said I with a judicious nod, returning Aysayn’s smile. “It was necessary for me to decide upon one who would share my sleeping leather this darkness, and the decision was easily made. Shall we now talk about the strangers?”

“Perhaps it would be best if we were first to hear which of us has been—honored,” said Galiose with odd heartiness as he stepped nearer to me, his dark eyes eager. “The one who has been chosen will surely wish to prepare himself, and we others would wish to offer him our congratulations. Will you speak his name?”

“Certainly,” said I, smiling at Ceralt and Mehrayn. The two males stood together, somewhat apart from the others, dark-haired Ceralt bare-chested above his leather breech and leggings and silver belt, red-haired Mehrayn equally barechested above the black of his Sigurri loin covering. Truly tempting were the two, large, well-muscled, broadly inviting and able to give great pleasure, yet did they both wish to see me denied in one manner or another. As that was so, I considered it only meet that they taste of the thing themselves for once, and smiled instead at the one who stood beyond them.

“My choice for this darkness is S’Heernoh,” said I, inspecting the male as a Midanna was wont to do. “My warriors speak highly of his ability, and I have decided to see the thing for myself.”

Ceralt and Mehrayn seemed to cease breathing till my words of decision had been uttered, and then they turned with incredulous looks toward the one I had named. So quickly did the change from silence to uproar occur that I blinked, at once besieged from all directions. The protests from the males all about were clamorous and unintelligible, none permitting another to speak ahead of him, all deeply outraged. In the midst of it all I was able to see the manner in which S’Heernoh flinched, and then his eyes were covered by one hand, as though to shield him from pain. Although the looks given him by Mehrayn and Ceralt were not tender and brotherly, I failed to see what manner of pain there might be for him.

“Absolutely not!” thundered Galiose from beside me, his anger at last rising above the din of the others. “Have you no sense of propriety, girl? You may not look to another when there are two who have already spoken of their desire for you, two who will not be ignored! To allow a wench her say is ever an error, Aysayn, for she will ever make of it the sort of mockery now before us.”

“You fail to understand, Galiose, that this wench is not merely a wench,” said Aysayn, his dark eyes flashing with annoyance. “Are you unable to recall that the forces she commands are larger and more experienced than yours? That she rides in the name of the gods? That you now stand within a city held by those who follow her without question? How can you believe a decision may be forced on her?”

“She is a wench, and a wench must ever obey the men about her,” returned Galiose in a growl, his stubbornness refusing to allow any to take the binding from his eyes. “That you permit her to do as she wills is no kindness, Aysayn, for she will never learn her proper place amid such doings. Join me, instead, in commanding her to a proper choice, one which will allow us to move on to matters of greater import.”

“Blessed Signurr, deliver me,” muttered Aysayn, his head ashake as he turned from Galiose to reach for some daru. Though he clearly wished to hear no more from Galiose, the other male stepped past me to join him at the board, his voice lowered and changed to coaxing. Briefly I considered summoning warriors to show Galiose the true meaning of obedience, yet was it necessary to recall that Ranistard’s High Seat had Aysayn’s bond as to his safety. Perhaps, after he had been permitted to quit the city as had been promised him . . . .

“Your sense of humor has scarcely improved since last you exercised it,” said Telion, he and Chaldrin and Lialt stepping forward to take the places abandoned by Aysayn and Galiose. “You cannot mean to continue in such a vein.”

“Ceralt will not allow it,” said Lialt, his annoyance clear as he looked down upon me. “Don’t you recall what his displeasure has meant to you in the past?”

“What number of times were you used by Mida’s pets, Lialt?” I asked, looking up into the lightness of eyes so like Ceralt’s, and yet so very different. “Were you pleased with that use? Mida’s pets, I was told, were greatly pleased with your efforts, but remember they are scarcely warriors in truth. Would you care to experience use by those who are truly warriors?”

“We were given safe conduct, wench,” said Telion when Lialt failed to reply, the Belsayah Pathfinder merely darkening at the reminder of his own embarrassment. “Though we appreciate the generosity of your offer, we must unfortunately decline. What do you plan for Ceralt?”

“And Mehrayn,” came Chaldrin’s rumble. “And for what reason have you ensnarled S’Heernoh in this madness?”

The large, dark male looked upon me with a vexation close to Aysayn’s, the eyes of Telion and Lialt lending their import. I didn’t have to discuss my decision with any of them, yet it suited my humor.

“It came to me that amongst all of you, S’Heernoh alone had not been tasted by me,” said I, drinking from my daru and looking from one to another of those who stood about me. “I am a war leader of Midanna, and therefore must consider my actions carefully, giving no unintentional insult. Do you then believe S’Heernoh so much less than the rest of you, that he should not be done as you?”

“The worth of S’Heernoh is scarcely in contention,” said Chaldrin while Telion shook his head in annoyance. “The matter before us at this moment concerns the Sword and the High Rider, both of whom are prepared to contest for you. Do you truly wish to see which one will survive the meeting?”

“What matters which survives, when there is naught to survive for?” I asked, knowing the simplicity of the statement would surely appeal to these males. “The two have presented themselves to the war leader Jalav, and that war leader has rejected them both. My choice will stand as stated, and none may deny me.”

“Alas, my lady Jalav, that is unfortunately not so,” came the voice of S’Heernoh. He stepped between Lialt and Telion, halting directly before me, and as strange as ever was the amusement in his dark eyes. “I would find it a great honor to attend you this darkness,” said he, “and yet must I regretfully decline. There was a lovely warrior in the corridor through which we passed to reach our rooms, clad in red, of the Happa clan, I believe she said, and her request was most courteous—and interesting—and—” Much did the male attempt to appear shame-faced, yet he was too amused. “Already have I given my word to attend another. Would you see me forsworn?”

Silently had Mehrayn and Ceralt come up to stand themselves behind S’Heernoh, their eyes showing naught of the amusement of the elder male, the gaze of each of them resting no place other than upon me. Light was the gaze of each of them, Ceralt’s blue and Mehrayn’s green, and well did I recall the look of laughter in each pair of eyes. How deep was the touch of the look of laughter, and how rarely it occurred in the sight of a warrior.

“My lady Jalav, have you heard my words?” asked S’Heernoh, returning me to the fact of his presence. Again the male seemed amused, yet I knew not why.

“Indeed have I heard your words, S’Heernoh,” I said, taking care not to look again upon the two who stood just behind him. “You need not fear being forsworn, for the Happa warrior who approached you will doubtless release you from your vow when she learns of my—interest. You may, if you wish it, promise yourself for the following darkness.”

“And who, if not S’Heernoh, will occupy your sleeping leather the following darkness?” asked Chaldrin at once, the accursed male unable to hold his tongue still. “Am I to be honored, or Telion or Lialt, or perhaps Aysayn or Galiose?”

“Surely not you, brother,” said I quickly, wishing him to see my displeasure. “You, I am sure, will be far too weary from having served so many so well. The following darkness I will perhaps take a slave to my sleeping leather, for never have I had the taste of a slave. Perhaps it will prove a taste to build an appetite upon.”

“Surely do you sound the city wench incensed over not having been courted,” said Telion with a snort of derision. “What deference will you have from us, girl, and how soon will it bring you to sufficient maturity that lucid and adult actions will come from you rather than childish tantrums?”

“You dare to liken the doings of a Midanna war leader to those of a city slave-woman?” I demanded, my rage taking me a step nearer to Telion, my right hand already beginning to reach for my sword hilt. I understood naught of what the male had said, and yet I was certain from his tone that insult was intended. So often had insult been given me by those males during my time of capture, that they now believed themselves safe from my wrath. Indeed I meant to show the male how greatly he erred, yet had I forgotten that my sword had been put aside with theirs. My fingers closed on air, enraging me yet further, and the Mida-forsaken male folded his arms across his broad, leather-clad chest, and smiled arrogantly.

“Should a Midanna war leader indulge in tantrums, it is scarcely I who likens her actions to a city wench,” said he, caring naught for the continuing insult he gave. “Do you also mean to spit upon the promise of safety given us, as if you had no idea of honor? Your posturings demand no respect, wench, solely do they call for a strip of leather to be applied to your insolence, with strength and with frequent repetitions. Surely do you. . . ...

“Enough, brother,” came another voice, and I stood before Telion with fists clenched, my fury attempting to burst out of control, looking up into the mockery in his eyes, so greatly enraged that at first I knew not who had spoken.

“What reason is there for me to cease, Ceralt?” asked Telion. “As I raise no weapon they none of them may halt me, therefore may I address her as I please.”

“You forget that I gave no such vow, Telion,” said Ceralt very softly, so softly that the male before me lost the power of his anger. “Though we have truly become brothers through the trials we faced together, I cannot allow you to speak to her so. You give her uncalled-for pain, brother, and I will not allow her to be given pain.”

“I had not seen it in such a light, Ceralt,” returned Telion in a murmur, a quiet smile now upon him as he moved away from me. Ceralt then stood in his place, directly before me, no ridicule or condemnation in the light eyes which looked down upon me. “As you demand it of me,” said Telion, “I shall certainly cease at once.”

“Satya,” said Ceralt, his hand raised to my cheek, his gaze held to mine, his voice striking me motionless with all the emotion to be heard therein. “It has been a lifetime and more since last I touched you. Are you well?”

So few words he spoke, this male who had done and been so much to me, the tips of his fingers to my face like burning brands, draining my strength and again beginning to make me his. My body cried out silently, demanding the feel of his arms about me, the touch of his lips upon mine, the ecstasy of his desire and the glory of his strength. A truly great need did I feel for the male, and yet was it far from the crippling desire in which I had been held the while I remained his captive. No longer was Jalav made slave by the goddess she rode for, and at last did she see the true reason behind the doings of Telion. He had deliberately insulted me, knowing Ceralt would intervene, thinking I would pay greater heed to one who stood himself in my defense when I could not, in honor, give proper reply myself.

“Jalav is quite well,” said I to Ceralt, refusing further nearness and the indescribable pleasure that putting my hands to the firm, broad strength of his body would bring. “Perhaps it would be best to show exactly how well.”

The softened look Ceralt had worn changed to a puzzled frown. With no hesitation I moved to where Telion stood happily sipping his daru, and quickly kicked out, catching Telion in the middle with the thrust of my heel. The daru sprayed from the mouth of the male as he flung his cup away and bent double from the strength of the kick, a strength which was no more than half of that which I had learned to deliver. It was not my desire to give true harm to Telion, no more than it had been his desire to give true insult, yet had each thing been given and also received. One who gives must ever be prepared to receive as well.

“A Midanna is pleased to take note of those who do not raise weapon to her,” said I, looking down upon a Telion who knelt with one hand to the floor cloth, the other at his middle, a greenish pallor having settled upon his features. “Should you again wish to approach me without weapons, feel free to do so.”

The daru remaining in my own cup had not been spilled, therefore did I turn from Lialt and Ceralt’s attempts to aid their brother and swallowed it down, taking no note of Chaldrin swallowing down a chuckle. That S’Heernoh had also found amusement in the foolishness failed to surprise me, nor did the glint in Aysayn’s eyes, nor the annoyance in those of Galiose. These males each had their own interest in foolishness, and I found I had forgotten the last of them till a hand touched my shoulder.

“Your ability has grown since last I saw it put to use,” said Mehrayn, his wide hand gentle where it rested upon me. “I see it will be necessary to guard myself more closely in future.”

I turned my head to his calm, faintly amused regard, recalling the time he spoke of, the time I had not been able to best his strength and keep him from me. So deeply had I desired his arms about me then, as deeply as I desired them that moment, yet no more might I acknowledge this of Mehrayn than I had acknowledged it of Ceralt.

“The male Mehrayn need not concern himself,” said I, meeting the nearly fierce green gaze. “This warrior deems it highly unlikely that the need shall arise.”

With little difficulty did I walk from his hand then, toward the board and further daru. Never before had I had so great a need of daru, yet was it also true that never before had I been plagued by so large a number of males close about me. Was this the manner in which Mida meant to end me, surely was the likelihood of her doing so quite excellent.

“The wench herself proves my words true, Aysayn,” said Galiose as I reached to the daru pitcher. He and Sigurr’s Shadow stood there together, and little amusement touched the High Seat of Ranistard. “None of us will find it possible to give full minds to matters of import till she has declared her true intentions. How is a man to do as he must, when thoughts of a woman constantly distract him? She must declare herself, I say, not behave as though she has never before laid eyes upon them.”

“Perhaps it would be best if matters were permitted to continue in just such a manner,” came another voice, the voice of S’Heernoh. I turned to see the grateful relief with which Aysayn looked upon the gray-haired male, for Sigurr’s Shadow had clearly grown as weary as I at Galiose’s constant carping. Galiose, however, was less pleased.

“I find no understanding of so unenlightened a view, man,” said he, attempting to take the Walker’s measure with his eyes. “Your disagreement with me indicates a lack of feeling toward those who now suffer needlessly. Should the wench be made to declare herself, the matter will be settled.”

“Surely would it be far beyond my place to voice disagreement with the High Seat of Ranistard,” said S’Heernoh, the smoothness of his voice and the small bow he performed causing Aysayn to drink from the cup he held, to try to hide his amusement. “Merely do I point out that we have scarcely come together here to discuss the doings of a wench and those men who desire her. Should the coming strangers not be adequately seen to, the declaration you now seek so earnestly will surely be of little interest even to those quite intimately concerned with it.”

“Your view no longer seems quite so unenlightened,” said Galiose wryly, looking upon S’Heernoh apologetically. “Should those whose arrival we anticipate not be seen to, likely shall we none of us be free of suffering. Perhaps, Aysayn, you would begin by speaking of how you and yours come to be here.”

“I would be pleased to do so,” Aysayn replied, equally surprised to see that there appeared to be more to Galiose than it had seemed at first. And as Sigurr’s Shadow spoke the tale which had been requested of him, I was able to swallow my daru in peace.

“I had not thought that inquiring after your health would be so hazardous an undertaking,” came a sudden voice from behind me striving not to sound stern. “I believe, in future, I shall avoid such controversial issues.”

“There are many things one would do best to avoid,” I returned, making no effort to look upon Ceralt where he stood so close to me. And then, as I found I could not silence myself, added, “Your wounds are properly healed, I trust?”

“My wounds have been healed for some time,” he replied, unfortunately coming about to where I might see him. So large and strong he was, his dark hair falling to his eyes, his gaze coming down to me as his hands toyed with the goblet he held. “I have missed you sorely, Jalav, and though I will surely bring pain to us both, I must tell you the reason for my having done to you what I did upon the journey to Sigurr’s Peak.”

He was solemn, filled with the pain of difficult memory, doubtless reflecting my own memories.

“I am already aware of what reasons you had,” I said, beginning to turn with the thought of joining Aysayn and Galiose, yet did a large hand come quickly to my arm to halt me.

“You could not be aware of my reasons,” said he, a faint smile coming to him as though he anticipated speaking a truth too long held silent. “No others save Lialt and Telion were told of my doings, and they would not have betrayed a secret entrusted to them. You see, wench, Lialt had walked the Snows, and had discovered that . . . .”

“That you were to die,” I interrupted, making him look serious. “It was you I learned the thing from, overhearing the words you spoke to Telion. And yet Lialt misread the Snows, for the thing which was so certain was, in the end, avoided.”

“Narrowly,” he stressed, moving a hand to the thick lock of hair which draped my shoulder. “I had feared that I would not survive to touch you ever again, to put my lips to yours, to—I sought to breed hatred within you against my ending, so that you would not be given the pain of mourning me. Were my attempts too successful, Jalav? Is that the reason you have allowed another to take my place?”

Soberly did the male look down upon me, pain in his light eyes. I, too, felt pain, yet not for similar reasons.

“What place there is beside a war leader of Midanna is not meant to be filled by males,” I said, taking my eyes from his and attempting to free my arm. “It was this that you were unable to accept, was it not? That I am a warrior and war leader, not a village female all aquiver to do your bidding? The place you took was not freely given, nor is it meant to be given to any.”

“There is a place beside any wench for a man willing to take it,” said he, refusing, though gently, to release my arm. “Indeed do I insist upon seeing you as other than a warrior, for you are, in truth, more woman than war leader, more mine than any other’s. Have I not drawn you from the circle and declared you mine before all those who follow me? When the discussions here are done, you will again be mine.”

“Just so easily?” I asked, looking at him again to see the blaze in his light eyes which declared he would be obeyed no matter the will of others. “And what of the goddess, and the task I see to for her? Have I been named Mida’s chosen and the messenger of Sigurr merely so that I might be claimed by a male? Are the Midanna to face the coming strangers with no war leader to direct them? Have you so quickly forgotten the manner in which Mida deals with one who attempts to deny her will?”

“There are sufficient men about to see to those who come to do us ill,” said he, stubbornness ablaze in the eyes which looked down upon me. “There is no need whatsoever for wenches to enter battle, therefore no need of one to lead them. It is more than past time that you be permanently claimed, woman, and I am the man who will see to it.”

“Forgive the interruption, yet I could not fail to overhear the fact that some task requires doing,” came another voice, an innocently helpful voice, causing Ceralt to release my arm. “Might I volunteer my services in seeing to the thing?”

Needless to say, Mehrayn wanted to join us, pleasantly smiling at those he addressed. Ceralt seemed immediately prepared to take insult at the jocular offer, yet quickly mastered his emotions.

“I give you thanks for your generous thoughtfulness, yet is assistance unnecessary,” he returned in a manner similar to Mehrayn’s, looking directly upon Sigurr’s Sword. “The task is not so difficult, therefore shall I find it more than possible to accomplish it alone.”

“Strangely enough, I, too, have a task to accomplish which I prefer seeing to alone,” said Mehrayn, showing continuing pleasure in the face of Ceralt’s smooth mannerliness. “Certain undertakings are more satisfying when seen to in such a way, are they not? Tell me, Jalav: which of those dishes upon the board do you find most palatable? As you and yours have done so excellently well in taking and holding this place, I will accept your recommendation without hesitation.”

Now was Mehrayn looking upon me rather than Ceralt, with an interested attentiveness, his words having put a silent, jaw-clenching fury upon the other male. I did not know why Ceralt would be so upset, nor was I able to fathom the reason behind Mehrayn’s asking such a thing. Surely the male was able to know of his own self which of the provender appeared tempting.

“I, too, would be pleased to have such a recommendation,” Ceralt said nearly at once, quickly changing his scowl to a smile as he looked upon me. “So truly excellent were your efforts in preparing provender upon the journey we shared, that a man would be a fool to doubt your ability to know the finest. Let us move nearer to the board.”

No longer was Mehrayn quite as pleased as he had been, most especially as he was nearly left behind when Ceralt put his arm about me to guide me toward the board. In one stride, however, Mehrayn was again to my right, and then there were three who halted before the provender.

“What of this?” Mehrayn asked at once, reaching toward the roast lellin. “It appears much as the lellin we shared in the forests between Signurr’s city and the lands of the Midanna, when you rode to claim the leadership of those who were then enemy to you. I believe I shall never forget how fine it was, seeing you astride your kan, your swordbelt firmly upon you ....”

His green eyes looked upon me rather than the provender, his words recalling the closeness we had then shared for a time, his body calling out to mine as ever it did. Had he pulled me to him then I could not have refused him, yet was there another who stood with us.

“Perhaps you would recommend this nilno,” Ceralt said before Mehrayn’s words might continue, his arm about me turning me from the contemplation of Sigurr’s Sword into which I had fallen. “I had not considered uncooked nilno, yet does sight of it recall to mind the time when first we met—and also the journey we shared in traveling between Bellinard and Ranistard. Never had I thought it possible for a wench to eat uncooked fare, and yet you did so without hesitation when the need arose. Never shall I forget how magnificent I then considered you—and how much more magnificent I found you to be after that. Our time together was unparalleled pleasure for me, far beyond anything I envisioned as possible. It was no less than . . . .”

It was light eyes beneath dark hair which held me then, bringing to mind the time I had so wished I might be Ceralt’s. The concern of the male was oft times smothering, yet was it a concern which came from within him, one which truly put this warrior before his own beliefs and wishes. Perhaps it was that which caused him to release me from the vow he had stolen, the desire to see me kept from harm. Sooner would he have me free of the bond which held me beside him, than given hurt and humiliation through being forbidden to touch hand to weapon. His arm about me spoke of how truly long it had been since he had held me to him, and surely did I then wish it might be two arms about me rather than just one—had there not been others about.

“Have I ever spoken to you, of the time I fought for the place of Sigurr’s Sword?” Mehrayn asked, he in turn treading upon the words of Ceralt, his arm about my waist turning me toward him again. “The one who held the place then was skillful indeed, yet I met him before all of the city, intent upon striving to the utmost to make the honor mine. No more than a breech of red cloth was I permitted to wear about my loins, to show, should I fail in my attempt, that it was a lowly slave who had foolishly sought to advance himself rather than one who had been a warrior of Sigurr. The fey was hot and bright when we stepped out to face one another, all those looking on silent with the tension of the moment . . . .”

“I believe you know, wench, that my father was Belsayah High Rider before me,” Ceralt quickly put in, turning me again from the red-haired Sigurri. “Although the place was mine by right of birth, still was it necessary that I travel from village to village, answering any who might wish to challenge me for the honor. Were I to have fallen in such a challenge, the one who bested me would then be High Rider in my place. I had already faced two challenges and had stood victorious, when I came to the fifth village and a third who put himself before me as was his right. The first two had been naught, no more than fools believing themselves able to swing a blade, yet the third was considerably more. A man who had traveled widely and had been a captain in some High Seat’s guard . . . .”

“And there we stood, gazing upon one another across our weapons,” said Mehrayn, adding to my dizziness and dismay by turning me again in his direction. “The skies were dark and threatening, speaking of Sigurr’s presence and his displeasure with one of the two who stood in challenge beneath his eye . . .”

“I had thought you spoke of the fey as hot and bright,” remarked Ceralt, an odd tone to his voice. “As I, myself, felt very little fear and uncertainty, the times of my challenges are quite clear in my memory.”

“A true warrior knows no fear and uncertainty,” returned Mehrayn somewhat stiffly. “There is, however, the matter of wariness, which any with intelligence will feel. Most especially before one such as the previous Sword, who was . . .”

“My third challenge, once answered, brought unexpected results,” said Ceralt, and once again I looked upon him rather than Mehrayn. “Immediately were there more wenches about me than ever before, battling one another for my attention, seeking to serve me, begging my favor. I laughed indulgently at the display, of course, for I knew as well as a man might that it was another sort of wench I sought, one who stood so far above the others that . . .”

“Although there was ever a shortage of wenches in Sigurr’s city, I was sought out by them even before I became the Sword,” said Mehrayn, once again adding to the whirling in my head. “Once the honor was mine, however, they were constantly about me, begging me to use them in my devotions rather than slaves. Even the slaves wept when I chose them, yet did I know full well that my heart would not be given till I found one so far above them all . . .”

“One would have little difficulty in picturing the weeping of slaves who were chosen to serve a follower of Sigurr,” said Ceralt, immediately drawing the green of Mehrayn’s gaze. “The Belsayah hold no slaves, nor have they interest in doing so. The wenches they draw from the circle of choice more than suffice.”

“As those wenches are held even more closely than slaves, why should they not suffice?” asked Mehrayn, his tone as even as Ceralt’s had been. “Men require slaves to share when there are too few wenches for each to have his own, yet are some possessed of sufficient honor to keep from using those who are free. To hand a free wench about is to shame and demean her.”

“And to allow her to risk her all with a weapon in hand is to show her honor and concern?” demanded Ceralt, his blue eyes cold and unmoving from Mehrayn. “All men should be possessed of the sense to see the wrong in this; for those without sufficient wenches of their own, to do such a thing is inexcusable. Sharing will scarcely end a wench, yet battle . . . ”

Already were their arms gone from about me, therefore was there naught of obstacles to keep them from standing toe to toe once again. Each spoke while giving no heed to the other, their tempers flying, and at last I was able to turn about of my own volition and walk a number of paces from them before swallowing half the daru in my cup. The foolishness of their previous exchanges had made my head pound, and memories of the times I had spent with each of them disturbed me greatly. So much anger and hurt had Ceralt given me, and yet, when I had thought myself forsworn and shamed beyond bearing by doings of my own, he had reassured me.

“How might there be shame for you in a thing which gave me such joy?” he had asked, holding me tightly to him in his furs, his gentle touch attempting to soothe away my misery. “Do you not know, woman of my heart, how long I waited to hear you call upon me in need, rather than bear the load yourself, alone and in silence? My heart leaped with greater joy than it had ever known—and you found naught save shame therein? Can there be shame in giving another such joy?”

To that fey was I unable to truly answer the question he had put, yet did I recall the strength he had given me when mine had not been sufficient, the arms which had held me to him without condemnation. And Mehrayn. How deep had been the confusion and hurt I had felt when I thought him chosen willingly by the goddess, and how clearly he had known of my pain.

“Jalav, my beloved, are you unable to see that such a thing is not so?” he had cried, holding me to him with all the strength in his great arms. “Never would I choose another before you, sooner would I see my soul irretrievably lost! Though you have come to expect much pain from men, I would give you the brief pain of death before I would give you the agony of turning from you when you would face the gods for me! And never would I find it possible to give you death.”

I had been able to do little more than hold him then, just as I had done with Ceralt, and now they demanded that I choose between them, sending one of them from me forever. How great was my hatred of the goddess for bringing them together: beyond the bounds of simple blood debt, larger than the demand for vengeance. The cup of daru I looked upon moved as the hand which held it trembled with the rage which gripped me, turning red-tinged as the kill-lust sparked briefly, then wavered and lost reality as I pictured the journey trail which would bring me to the place I might realize my life’s last, most stringent desire. No other thought save killing filled me then, and when Aysayn put a hand to my arm, the look I gave him took some bit of the color from the tanned face which regarded me.

“Jalav, what ails you?” he asked in the softest of tones, his touch quickly withdrawn from my arm. “It had seemed that you roved elsewhere in your thoughts, yet now do you appear— Is there aid I might offer?”

“None may aid me now, brother,” I replied, feeling the overwhelming desires drain from me as quickly as they had come. My head ached unbearably. I was to be forced to face the goddess, in the place of her own choosing in the place where Sigurr waited. Once before had I faced him and withstood him to gain what I wished; this time was the need as pressing, and I would surely be drawn again into his Realm. Survival was unlikely, yet was I unconcerned with survival, so long as that Other also failed to survive. I drew an unsteady breath into my lungs as I looked again, differently, upon Sigurr’s Shadow, and shook my head at his concern. “Perhaps I have partaken too freely of this daru,” said I, gesturing with my cup before draining it. “How went the tale upon the reasons for your presence?”

“More successfully than the time spent by you, I would venture,” he said, turning to look upon the two males who were then being separated by those about them. Lialt, Telion and Galiose fought to take Ceralt to the left of the board, the while Chaldrin and S’Heernoh did the same in an effort to draw Mehrayn to the right. “Should peace ever be restored, Galiose wishes to be allowed to tour this house.”

“Knowing Galiose as I do, the wish was more likely a demand,” said I, at once seeing my conjecture confirmed in the dark of Aysayn’s eyes. “Have you thought upon a means as yet of removing him and his ilk from our path other than through battle?”

“There may perhaps be a way,” said Aysayn with a nod. “As the others are so deeply engaged in considerations of another sort, let us take the opportunity to discuss the matter.”

We both took more daru then sat upon the floor cloth and began our discussion. Aysayn’s thoughts had gone much in the manner of my own, therefore I found no disagreement with his words. Numbers are often critical in battle, yet are numbers for the sake of numbers worse than useless. To take into battle those who are not truly warriors, those who are as likely to cut and run as stand and fight, is most often to give victory to one’s enemy. For that reason were all Midanna blooded warriors, and for such a reason were none save Sigurri warriors permitted to raise a blade. For the sake of victory was it necessary that Ranistard and Belsayah males return from whence they had come, and Aysayn’s thoughts as to how this might be accomplished showed full understanding of the nature of those males. I listened closely, upon occasion nodding in agreement, and therefore was unaware of the approach of Galiose till that male interrupted Aysayn’s words with a noise made in his throat.

“Tranquillity and peace have once more been restored—for this moment, at least,” said he when Aysayn and I looked. “Perhaps I should begin my inspection of this place. I will surely find sufficient things amiss to distract nearly all those who accompany me, which is certain to be a far safer distraction than what now concerns them.”

“Have you not yet had your fill of foolishness, Galiose?” I asked, looking up toward him. “It suited you to bring your males to this place; will it suit you equally well when you see them fall from lack of sustenance?”

“Of what do you speak, wench?” asked the male with a snort of ridicule, clearly lacking the ability to think as a true leader of warriors. “Has the great pleasure of being ardently sought after brought you fantasies? My men will hunt for their needs, just as they have till now.”

“Along with the hunters of the Sigurri and my Midanna?” I countered, at last seeing his amusement falter. “Think you the forests hereabout are able to support so many? Think you your males will find targets for their arrows when they must hunt in competition with those who live within the forests? Do you mean to concern yourself with foolishness till their bellies rumble with hunger, and they turn avid eyes upon the kand which brought them?”

“There is place here only for warriors,” said Aysayn, his tone firm though gentle. “We need not stand and shout the virtues of our respective warriors till all about are deafened to find a solution; there is a way we may prove the thing to the satisfaction of all, before we starve in the way spoken of by Jalav. I had not seen the need in such a light, yet is she undoubtedly correct. We must settle matters as soon as possible.”

“And how do you intend seeing them settled?” Galiose growled, his eyes hard upon Aysayn’s. “Are we to be sent packing with the threat of having provender kept from us?”

“There is little need for childish threats,” said I, rising from the floor cloth as Aysayn did the same. “Sigurr’s Shadow has had a thought with which I completely concur. As it is the question of warriors which concerns us, we will see whose force possesses the largest number of them. Each of us will choose fighters from the other’s ranks, of a set number previously agreed upon, and then will those fighters face one another with blunted weapons. Those who stand victorious will remain, those who have been defeated depart; the thing will in that way be proven beyond doubt.”

“You are to choose the fighters from my force, while I choose those from yours?” demanded Galiose, looking from Aysayn to me and then back again. “Why would we not choose among our own followers? How are you to know which are the best among mine, when you will do no more than look upon them?”

“We do not mean to choose the best of yours,” said Aysayn with a sigh, clearly having expected so—male an objection. “Nor are you to choose from among the best of ours. War leaders of the Midanna wear the second silver ring as Jalav does, Princes of the Blood among the Sigurri bear the mark of Sigurr in the flesh of their left shoulders as Mehrayn does. The remainder of those who follow us are warriors, and it is from their ranks that you must choose. For our part we will choose among those who are not well armored, those whose swords are not as well worn as those of their companions. Just as you may choose from any of ours, so will we choose from any of yours.”

“You will deliberately choose new men and volunteers?” demanded Galiose, again near to the point of outrage. “You will seek to steal my place from me through the choice of those who are less than their brothers?”

“Are you unable to see that the very presence of those you describe weakens your force?” I demanded in turn, well out of patience with the fool. “Search about among Midanna and Sigurri, seeking the same, for you will have the same opportunity as we. Seek the least of our forces—and learn that they far outshine the best of yours. No chain is stronger than its weakest link, no force stronger than its weakest fighter. Your forces cannot hope to compare to ours.”

“You believe your least will outshine my best?” said Galiose with barely controlled anger, yet with the sense of having found victory. “You demand a meeting to determine who will stay and who will go? Very well, I will agree to such a meeting—on the provision that the matter is seen to in exactly that way: your least against my best. Only then will I admit defeat as telling, only then will I return my forces to Ranistard. Now what say you?”

The belligerent male before us sought to force us to a protest of his proposal, clearly without understanding that Aysayn and I had expected his demand. Had we, ourselves, proposed it, Galiose would surely have grown deeply insulted and likely stalked out immediately to give the challenge. As it was he who voiced the doing, however, there was naught for Aysayn and myself to do save accept.

“Our least against your best,” Sigurr’s Shadow agreed, making no effort to glance at Mida’s chosen. “Should we not emerge victorious even in such a meeting, we do not merit the honor of standing before the strangers.”

“There must be one further provision,” said Galiose of a sudden, his pleasure at our acceptance well hidden beneath the shadow of abrupt, uneasy suspicion. More indeed was there to Galiose beyond constantly grating verbiage, for it had quickly come to him that there had been no protest over so patently dishonorable an arrangement. “The meeting must be between my force and yours, Aysayn, none of the wenches to be involved. Too often will a man hold his stroke against a female, putting him at a great disadvantage. Ceralt, I feel sure, will ask the same.”

“Indeed,” said Ceralt with a nod from where he stood, between Lialt and Telion. “I will send my best against your least as Galiose does, in a meeting with blunted weapons, but the wenches must be excluded. To prove a man will not swing upon a woman proves naught concerning his fighting skill.”

“A male who will not protect his life no matter who seeks to take it is a fool deserving to be ended,” said I, looking upon Galiose in increased annoyance. “The Sigurri, at least, know better than to indulge in such mindless foolishness. What will occur should you somehow best Aysayn’s warriors—and the strangers who come show themselves to be female like the Midanna? Will you merely step back from them and allow them to do as they please?”

“We will, in that event, allow your wenches to step to the fore,” said Galiose, an odd look about him as he threw off his previous doubt. “For what other reason might the Serene Oneness have allowed you all to gather here? I, myself, would not merely stand by and allow a wench to attack me, nor would most of my men; in mock battle, however, where a man’s life might not be lost, to attack in return with full strength would be dishonorable, and I will not handicap my men in such a way. Do you both agree?”

This time Aysayn did indeed look upon me questioningly, the calm in his dark eyes showing he would stand with me were I to voice a refusal. Though I felt the urge to do so, also did I feel the effort would be useless, for I recalled the doing of Galiose’s male, he who had halted our approach when we had first shown ourselves. These males were, like all city males, completely lacking in reason, however there was little call for Midanna to be the same. To agree to the demand was to take a point of contention from Galiose against the time his males were bested, therefore did I nod sourly to indicate my reluctant agreement.

“Very well,” said Galiose briskly in acknowledgment. “When is this meeting to be held, and where?”

“Surely not before the new light,” said Aysayn, again looking to me with raised brows. “We must each of us choose those who will meet after agreeing upon their number, and then must we find or make sufficient blunted weapons for their use. The place may be chosen when these other matters are seen to.”

“My warriors have given training to certain of the city males,” said I, thoughtfully swirling the daru remaining in the cup I held. “They, perhaps, found it necessary to employ shielded weapons, for city males have not proven themselves able to stand against Midanna in any other way. I will inquire among my war leaders, and perhaps in such a manner will the number to face one another be decided on.”

“By the number of weapons available,” said Galiose with a nod. Briefly did he look upon me with annoyance, and then he turned to Aysayn. “As there is a good deal of time remaining before the meeting,” said he, “we may as well begin the inspection. You have told her that she is to accompany and guide us?”

“I have the desire neither to accompany nor guide you,” I informed the fool of a male, in no manner willing to remain in the presence of Mehrayn and Ceralt. “Should it be your intention to see this dwelling, you may wander about as you will; perhaps fortune may then smile upon us, and you will become irretrievably lost. Now may you all take your leave, for I have war leaders to meet with and a battle to prepare for. Perhaps, Aysayn, you would care to bring a portion of your legions within the walls of this city, so that those of my warriors here may grow to know them as brother warriors. In battle, one should know those who stand at her back. ”

“An excellent thought,” said Aysayn at once, likely to cover the black look sent to me by Galiose. “Mehrayn will choose those he wishes within the city, and once chosen we may speak of a time for their entry. You will see to their billeting?”

“We will house them here, in this dwelling,” said I, turning to replace my cup upon the board. “There is surely ample space for all, yet should there be . . . .”

“You cannot refuse,” said Galiose from behind me, caring naught for the words of mine he trod upon, his voice somewhat lowered. “So long as those two are able to attempt to take your attention, they will not attempt other things with each other. You are the sole distraction currently able to hold them, no matter my previous words upon the point.”

The male attempted to force my agreement with the sternness of his gaze, yet was I of a different mind than he. To allow the two males their attempts was to encourage their belief that I would choose between them, a thing I most certainly would not do. To say again I would not held little meaning; far better to take myself from their company, and allow actions to stand in place of words.

“There are matters of battle preparation I must be about,” I said, looking at Galiose with resolve. “Find one to distract you males who has interest in them.”

The male clearly meant to speak further, yet did I turn and walk from him before he might do so. My feelings toward the goddess and her aims continued to twist me about, therefore was I nearly to the door of my sleeping chamber before a hand upon my arm told me of one who had followed and now sought to halt me.

“A moment, wench,” said Chaldrin very softly, looking down upon me with an odd-seeming gaze. “S’Heernoh has told me of what the one called Galiose intended, yet does it appear that you have refused him. Is this so?”

“Indeed I have refused him,” I agreed with a nod, wondering that he would question me upon the matter. “We all of us stand about engaged in foolishness, and should Galiose be allowed his will, the arrival of the strangers will find us still engaged so. There must be one among us who sees the thing done otherwise.”

“But the strangers have not yet appeared,” said Chaldrin, “nor may they do so for kalod yet. Are we to spend kalod doing naught save anticipating their appearance?”

“Such is foolishness,” I retorted with a sound of scorn, sending him a glance of impatience. “For what reason are we gathered here, if not to meet and face the strangers? Did Mida not speak of this as the place they would appear? The time will not be kalod, Chaldrin, of this am I certain.”

“Perhaps there is more hope than certainty in your convictions, girl,” said he softly, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I, too, had hoped— You are truly unable to decide between them, is this not so?”

His great hand came to smooth my hair then, seeking, through the gentleness of the gesture, to lend strength where it was lacking. There was little doubt I had need of strength just then, but I found it within myself.

“I have no need to decide between them,” said I to the broad, bare-chested man before my eyes. “A war leader need not take notice of those males who petition for her attention, for she is Midanna, not city slave-woman. When the matter of the strangers has been seen to, then will there be ample time to consider other things.”

“Should we all of us survive,” said Chaldrin. “Should they appear before we are all too infirm with age to cause harm to any save ourselves. Are you aware of the fact that during this inspection Galiose proposes, you will have both Mehrayn and Ceralt before you as you have not previously had? And that they also will not face one another? You need to see them both together, Jalav, to weigh the words and actions of one against the other, before you know which one you wish. Should the wait for the strangers truly become kalod, would they not pass more easily with a man by your side?”

I moved an additional step backward to lean upon the silk-covered wall with my shoulders, looking down upon the blue floor cloth we stood on. I attempted to keep my temper in hand, for Chaldrin was truly a brother to me, one who believed he moved in the manner which was best for his sister. Much like my experiences in leading war leaders was this dealing with Chaldrin, for I had learned that to command war leaders was to be at times commanded by them. Though Chaldrin followed me, he, too, at times sought to command me to the path he considered best, an annoyance I found difficult to bear just then.

“It has unfortunately become the will of the gods that I have many males by my side,” said I at last, raising my head to regard the one who gazed upon me so earnestly. Those others in the chamber paid our soft exchange no mind, they being then engaged themselves in converse of their own. “I have learned much in the time of my journeying for Mida, yet has one learning stood itself far above the others: the use of males is pleasant, their constant company a hindrance and annoyance. The two you spoke of will not face one another, for naught would be gained by the doing, a fact simple enough to be comprehended even by males. I have determined to grant neither of them my notice, and shall not.”

“No matter the amount of time you have spent among men, you continue to remain the innocent,” said Chaldrin with a growl. “Ceralt, Telion says, has thought of little else these many hands of feyd other than recovering the woman he wishes for his own. Mehrayn, a man of great determination, will not allow another to claim the wench who has become his chosen. Have you not spoken to me of the manner in which Ceralt held you captive? Was I not able to see with my own eyes the manner in which Mehrayn took you to serve him? Think you your lack of notice of them shall keep them from considering the same again?”

“They may do no more than consider it!” I snapped, beginning to feel true anger at such foolish persistence. “Ceralt took me when I was wound-weakened and unarmed, Mehrayn when I believed I obeyed the commands of Mida. Now I stand in the midst of my warriors, and shall not allow the same again!”

“You will not allow it?” asked Chaldrin, his softened tone continuing even and remorseless. “In what manner do you believe you might halt it? Will you stand many of your wenches all about you when you sleep? Will you keep the same number about you when you walk the halls of this palace or the ways of this city? How many will you take should it be your desire to ride the forests hereabout? Think you such constant guarding will not be noted by those who follow you? Will you not lose face before them when they learn you fear the doings of ‘males’?”

“I fear the doings of no males!” I spat, my hands clenched into fists, the anger likely blazing from my eyes. “Nor do I need to be guarded! Jalav is able to see to herself!”

“Asleep as well as awake?” pursued the wretched male, undaunted by my anger, folding his massive arms deliberately across his chest. “In an untenanted corner of this place, where any might appear silently behind you? In the thick of the forests, where each bush you pass many conceal one waiting to leap upon your kan? Which of them attempts the thing first depends only upon which has the smaller amount of patience, which takes the idea first into his head. Is this what you wish?”

The words he spoke rendered me well-nigh speechless with anger. None other save males would consider the doings Chaldrin spoke of, yet was there a thing he had failed to recall.

“They shall not do as you suggest, for they may not,” I snarled, feeling the desire to rend and tear with teeth and claws. “I am war leader to all these Midanna hereabout, and must lead them in battle against the strangers. Neither Ceralt nor Mehrayn would see the battle lost merely to satisfy their own desires.”

“Indeed they would not,” returned Chaldrin immediately, the manner in which he refused to take his eyes from me bringing me increasing upset. “However, it must be recalled that one named Jalav was necessary to bring them together, yet now might any lead them. The presence or absence of one additional sword will not turn the battle, wench, and this they understand more clearly than you. Well might that one called Galiose be set in your place.”

“Galiose!” I echoed, so outraged that I nearly choked upon all I wished to say. Jalav unneeded, and Galiose to be set in her place? Chaldrin sought to give me outrage, as deliberately as Telion had sought to insult me, thinking I would likely speak agreement with his demands to keep so mindless a thing from occurring. He watched me carefully as I fought to separate one word from the next, faint amusement and hidden satisfaction in his gaze, while I strengthened my determination that never would I do as he wished.

“I shall not choose between them,” I said from teeth tightly clenched. “I shall not allow this—’inspection’—Galiose demands, and I shall not take notice of males I wish no part of. Jalav has spoken, and so shall it be!”

“Jalav is stubborn, and ever shall it be,” said the male, his rumble filled with great annoyance as he straightened even further where he stood. “I sought to guide you from the pit you stroll toward blindly, wench, yet do you refuse to open your eyes and see. As I have vowed to keep what harm from you I might, I must now see to the matter in another way. You will take yourself to the others and agree to the time among them, else shall I claim the right given me by you just after the battle with the followers of the foul Oneness.”

So strongly determined was the gaze now upon me that I blinked, taken aback by his unrelenting manner. Quite often had Chaldrin and I disagreed, yet he had not appeared as he did now since the time I had been captive to him in the Caverns of the Doomed.

“Have you learned me so poorly, brother?” I asked, faintly hurt that he would consider me as so many other, unknowing males did. “Do you believe the thought of pain to be given will turn me from the path I have chosen? Should this be your thought, do what you must; Jalav, too, does as she must.”

“Brother me no brother, wench,” said he, again with a growl. So large was the male, the massiveness of his muscles doing naught to slow him in battle, his agility remarkable both with sword and barehanded. Foolishly had I given him my let to take what vengeance he would from me, and now would he see the thing done with none to deny him. Foolish indeed was the war leader Jalav, who required the giving of pain and humiliation to keep firmly before her eyes the true nature of males.

“I have no need to hear of a bond between us, girl,” said he, lacking all sign of hesitation. “You think to bear what punishment I give you in silence, as you have done in the past, and then have it over and behind you. Perhaps you have forgotten what that punishment will be.”

His eyes sought memory of the vow he had given, that time in the forests in the dark before dawn, not far from the visiting place of those who had been enemy Midanna. He had learned then of Mehrayn’s doing, how the other male had taken me over his knee and brought a great ache to my bottom, and had nodded in approval and said he would do the same, yet not with so “light” a touch. Sooner would I have had the touch of a whip to my back, yet was there too little humiliation in a doing such as that for one who was male. I took my gaze from he who had once been leader of those in the Caverns of the Doomed and stared down instead upon the floor covering, speaking no word which might again be seized and used against me.

“I see you do indeed recall what punishment you must face,” came the grimly satisfied tones of Chaldrin as he stood before me, a faint stirring to be heard as he shifted in place.

“I have no doubt as to the silence it will be received with, and yet will silence avail you naught should the thing be done before the eyes of your wenches. How firm does your resolve stand now, sister?”

So great was the terrible shock I felt, that nearly did my breathing cease in the horrified stiffening of my body. Many and many a time had I been given such shame and humiliation by males that I thought myself unable to bear it, yet were those things as naught when compared to that which Chaldrin proposed. Of what use would I afterward be, if those who followed me were to see me done as a slave female of the cities, and then unable to even contemplate vengeance in the light of the vow I had taken? How might I ever again meet the eyes of any other, speak words as equals, seek out the companionship of those like myself? There would be none like myself, so terribly shamed that their souls had flamed to dark ashes and were no more, and also would there be none to lead the clans in battle. Each war leader would direct her clan sisters as she saw fit against the strangers, and so many would fall that even were victory to come, the Midanna would be no more. I put a trembling hand to the deep, burning illness in my middle, unable, through the wild, wailing scream in my mind, to conceive of any other movement or thought, and again words were directed toward me.

“You see, then, that you must obey me,” said the one who once had held my trust, the one who once had been looked upon by me as a brother. “The walking about will not be nearly so devastating an experience, and surely will you soon see of your own self the need for it. Once you have seen enough to speak a final word in choice, it will matter not if weapons are resorted to; you will have learned that Mehrayn’s is the truer love, that he alone merits your presence beside him. That other, that follower of the Oneness, will then be seen for what he is; should he be foolish enough to challenge the Sword he will fall, never again to bring you grief and harm, never again to cast confusion over your mind. You will then not seek to turn from Mehrayn for what he has done, but will see it as the only fitting reply to one who has caused you such pain. Would that I might do the thing myself.”

How soft the words had been, how gentle the hand which came to stroke my hair. I felt the smooth, warm floor cloth beneath my feet, the unyielding wall which was again at my back, and also the chill of my flesh which overrode an awareness of other, lesser things. At last had my thoughts ceased whirling in all directions, for no longer were there thoughts left within me. No more than the pain of great hurt was there within me, a pain I had no true understanding of. I looked down upon hands which remained unmoving at my middle, feeling no desire to seek my lost thoughts, and again the same hand came to stroke my hair.

“You are upset now, I know, therefore shall I spare you the need to speak of your agreement,” said he. “I will speak of it for you, and once you are in the midst of it you will no longer be upset. Have no fear, sister; all will surely turn out for the best.”

He turned about and took himself toward the others. I stood by the wall alone. Deep within I now felt a hollowness where earlier had been pain, a hollowness which would never again be filled. There was the place where one called brother had dwelled, one who had betrayed me with the word I, myself, had given him so that the bond between us might not be shattered. How great a fool is the warrior who believes there might ever be such a bond between warrior and male, herself and a reasonless, honorless male. No other than Midanna would from then on call me sister, and I—never again would I speak the despicable word brother.