The Warrior Challenged

3

The early morning was dim and chilly, especially in the stabling cave where the seetarr were kept. The torches on the walls were low from having burned all night, and that seemed to add to the lack of warmth. I hugged myself against that chill, then had to admit its source was more inner than outer. I’d been given a new sort of imad and caldin to wear, in place of the gowns of my former, temporary wardrobe, and another set was already packed in with Tammad’s things. My memabrak had bought me the long-sleeved, blouse-like imadd and ankle-length, full-skirted caldinn for the upcoming trip, both articles of clothing warmly made against the cooler air we would find higher in the mountains. He had also bought me a pair of lined, soft-leather foot coverings, but those were just then also packed away. They would be given to me when I needed them, when my memabrak decided I needed them; until then I walked barefoot on the smooth rock floor of the cavern, simply hugging myself against the chill.

“Tammad, aldana,” Dallan called softly in greeting as we neared him, his voice both hollow and muffled in the large cavern. “I have myself only just arrived, yet has Cinnan been here for some time. Did he ride alone, he would already be gone.”

“Though one might wish it otherwise, one cannot follow a trail one is unable to see,” the barbarian answered, his mind throbbing with sympathy for Cinnan. “Let us ready our seetarr as quickly as we may, so that the man need not agonize the longer.”

“Most certainly,” agreed Dallan immediately, also feeling the sympathy strongly, then they both turned to what had to be done. Neither one spoke to me or even looked in my direction, but that didn’t mean they weren’t aware of me. Tammad, especially, was very aware of me where I stood, about ten feet back in the shadow between torches, hugging myself and looking down at my still-bare feet.

The night before, our “conversations” had continued the way the first had begun, with the barbarian being pleased and me barely in control of any language whatsoever. After giving me what I had begged for he’d had me bathe him, then he’d given me a few lessons of a kind other than mental. His body was mostly healed from the terrible whipping he’d been given by the intruder, but the remaining scars and ridges upset me out of even more control. I didn’t want him to be hurt again so I’d kept trying to ask my favor, but he hadn’t wanted to be asked. By the time he’d carried me to the bed furs, I’d been as limp as a rag and totally beyond speech.

Earlier the next morning I’d awakened before him, to lie in the furs and stare into the darkness. Tammad had refused to believe what I’d said about my going to Vediaster, but I knew it wasn’t something that could be avoided by disbelief. He also had refused to listen to a request to learn swordwork, and that was a request he could put off indefinitely, especially during a trip when there would be very little time or opportunity for that. At first I hadn’t known what to do, and then it had come to me that both of my major problems could be solved with a single effort, the effort to stay behind. My avoiding the trip would keep the three men who were going safe, and while Tammad was gone I would be able to find someone to teach me swordwork, with the help of my talent if necessary. Rellis felt he owed me a favor for saving Dallan’s life by ending the intruder, and there was sure to be something I could do with that. If I hid out somewhere with my shield closed tight until the three were gone, and then told Rellis I’d been too afraid at the thought of Vediaster to let myself be taken with them, everything ought to turn out just fine. I’d known Tammad would be angry with me when he got back, but I’d preferred the thought of him angry to the thought of him hurt.

Once I’d made my decision I’d slipped quietly out of the furs, tiptoed through the darkness into the bathing room to find my gown, then had gone toward the door to the hall. It was difficult seeing well with all the candles blown out, and I’d been groping for the door when a big hand closed about my arm. My heart had almost stopped still from the fright, but that was only the beginning of it. Behind the shield of deep, deep calm Tammad had rigidly imposed on himself had been his anger, an anger he’d let me feel once it was no longer necessary to stand hunter-still in the darkness. He’d waited to find out if I really had been trying to sneak out of the apartment, and once he’d known for sure he’d punished me for trying to disobey him.

“Aldana, wenda.” Dallan’s voice came, bringing me back to the stabling cave. He was leading his two seetarr, the first a saddle animal with a pack animal behind, and he’d stopped a couple of feet away from me. “I give you greeting for this fine new day, Terril.”

“I thank you for your greeting, Dallan,” I answered, looking up at him with very little enthusiasm. “Please allow me to return it, for it seems only fitting to do so with one who is able to find approval of a day such as this.”

“You find the look of this day unacceptable?” he asked, raising his brows with a surprise he wasn’t feeling. Dallan was teasing me, and knew without doubt that I knew it. “I had not thought you would prefer clouds and rain.”

“My preferences matter not in the least upon any matter one would care to cite,” I informed him, in no mood for even the gentlest of teasing. “The sole point of satisfaction now remaining to me is that soon you will no longer consider this day quite so fine.”

“Of what do you speak, wenda?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as his amusement faded. “What is it that you anticipate?”

“I?” I asked, raising my brows as he had and with just as little real surprise. “I am no more than a wenda, no more than the belonging of one of true worth. In what manner might I anticipate doings concerning I’lendaa?”

Exasperation touched him then, the sort that straightened l’lendaa to their full height to look down at you with hard blue eyes, but I wasn’t in the mood to be intimidated. I was in the mood to be scared stiff, but that wouldn’t have done me any more good than trying to run away had.

“As you seem so well aware of your true place in our world, perhaps you would care to reconsider the response you have given me,” Dallan said, still keeping his voice low. “Or would you prefer that I speak with Tammad concerning your behavior?”

“Speak with him or not as you will,” I retorted, making sure I avoided Dallan’s eyes. “You may be sure, however, that I shall not speak with him, for I no longer feel the least concern over what may become of that beast. Nor those who call themselves brother to him.”

“I had thought, Terril, that you and I were also helid,” he said, using the Rimilian word for a very close, non-blood, nonsexual, relationship. “Have I given you insult with either word or deed?”

I looked up at him then, his features more clearly illuminated by the dying torches than mine, and saw the sober face of truth looking down. Dallan was asking me not to take my mad at Tammad out on him, which was a reasonable enough request for anyone in the mood to be reasonable. The only trouble was, to that point being reasonable had gotten me nowhere, and I was tired of wasting the time and effort.

“You ask me to speak to you of my misgivings so that you, too, may have opportunity to give me insult?” I said, noticing that my question brought back some small part of his amusement. “I am not that much helid to you, Dallan.”

“I gave you no insult, wenda,” came another voice, one I was more than eager to forget. Tammad had his own seetarr ready, and had brought them over beside Dallan’s. “Merely did I weigh your words and find them unsubstantiated, and then did I strap you for disobedience. Insult was neither thought upon nor given.”

That damned calm was back in his mind, the calm he usually moved through life with, the calm he used in place of the true shield he didn’t seem able to form, the calm I didn’t have to look up to his face to see. This time it wasn’t covering anything but more calm, but even if it had been I wouldn’t have been in the least interested. The strapping he’d given me had been very short, but he’d made sure it would hurt; I wasn’t going to be allowed to disobey him, and that’s all he cared about. For my own part I didn’t even care about that much anymore, and was beginning to hope I’d get killed. He’d be sorry then that he hadn’t listened to me.

“What words of hers did you find unsubstantiated, Tammad?” Dallan asked when it was clear I would be neither looking at nor speaking to the big barbarian. “Perhaps Cinnan and I should hear them as well.”

“The woman wishes to remain behind, Dallan,” Tammad said with a sigh of long-suffering patience, his calm faintly rippled with annoyance. “She has been told that she will be taught proper obedience upon this journey, therefore does she seek to avoid making it. She has said that her presence will bring us ill; is such a contention to be credited when we ride to Vediaster? Perhaps in another city her fears might well be justified, yet in Vediaster?”

“I see the difficulty,” Dallan admitted with his own sigh, one that tried to disguise the fact that he had already switched sides. “In a city of l’lendaa there might well be some number who would stand against you for the possession of a green-eyed, dark-haired wenda such as Terril; in Vediaster there is unlikely to be even the thought of such a thing. The wendaa who rule it would not allow such thoughts.”

“Exactly,” the barbarian agreed, his annoyance gone. “I have never myself visited that city, yet have I heard of it from others. The woman fears naught save the wailing dark.”

Dallan shrugged without adding anything, trying to catch my eye to let me know he’d been as open-minded as possible, but that was his opinion. Mine was that I’d get more positive, intelligent response by looking for it in the stone of the cave floor.

With all packing and conversations taken care of, I was herded along between the two men as they went to where Cinnan waited for us. The third Rimilian was dressed the way Tammad and Dallan were, which surprisingly wasn’t in their usual haddinn. Under their swordbelts all three men wore tight cloth pants like the leather pants Dallan had worn as a servant-slave in Aesnil’s palace, pants that had a good deal of stretch and were made of the same cloth as my imad and caldin. Tammad had a tight, long-sleeved shirt and short, lined boots to go with the pants, but both shirt and boots had been packed away for use at another time, probably the same thing the other two men had done with their accessories. Cinnan’s pants were gold, Tammad’s tan, and Dallan’s blue; both sets of my imodd and caldinn were of a lovely, delicate pink. ,

“Dallan, Tammad, I give you greeting for this new day,” Cinnan said warmly as we came up to him. “I had not thought you would be prepared so early to depart. You both have my thanks.”

“Thanks are unnecessary, Cinnan,” the barbarian said with a shake of his head, dismissing Cinnan’s almost-pathetic gratitude. “There is a question I would ask one final time, however: you both continue to feel it wiser that we leave our followers behind rather than have them accompany us? We three alone will be a more effective force?”

“We three alone will cause the wendaa in Vediaster less distress,” Dallan said, Cinnan’s firm nod supporting the statement. “We would not wish them to believe we ride in conquest, and cause them to send their females against us in defense of their city. We go to retrieve a wenda, not to slay hordes of them.”

“Indeed,” said Cinnan, his mind as confident as Dallan’s. “Were we to ride against them we would certainly be victorious, therefore do we refrain from causing them fright.”

How chivalrous, I thought as Tammad nodded his own agreement, now completely convinced. The tall, generous l’lendaa of this area magnanimously allowed the poor little females to believe themselves safe due to the strength of their own swordarms, chuckling indulgently all the while. It came to me then to wonder why l’lendaa from another area, not quite as generous with an entire city and its surrounding countryside at stake, hadn’t already ridden in and defeated those poor, helpless women. Remembering the pair of twin male slaves brought as a gift to Aesnil by the ambassador of Vediaster, the two big, beautiful men whose minds had been so full of fear and cringing that slaves were all they would ever be for the rest of their lives, I would have enjoyed asking about previous invasion attempts. I really did want to ask the question, but the three big, strong men I accompanied had already dismissed the subject, and were too busy leading their seetarr out of the stabling cavern to be bothered. I was herded along with the rest of the animals before the question could even be framed.

Outside the cavern the rising sun was already beginning to warm the air, and a small crowd was there to see us off. Rellis and a recovering Seddan, among others, said good-bye to Dallan; Loddar and Kerman and a dozen others wished Tammad a swift journey, and Cinnan’s men confidently assured him that he would soon be returning with Aesnil on his saddle fur, holding to him with the deep love he had made her feel. I tried to find Len and Garth in the crowd, checked again when I couldn’t, then remembered that the barbarian had forbidden me to see them ever again. I stood alone in the middle of all those friendly, chatting people, an island of silence in a sea of conversations and laughter, and looked down at the flagstones of the courtyard. Tammad said no and Len and Garth obeyed him, and I was already beginning my new life. A bright new life, full of all the hope and promise and love I’d been told it would have, as deeply satisfying as anyone could ask. The flagstones were rough and hard under my bare feet, but I had long since become used to walking barefoot. People can become used to anything, if they’re kept at it long enough.

The good-byes and good wishes lasted until we rode away from them, Cinnan in the lead, Tammad and Dallan together behind him. I, of course, was on the saddle fur behind the barbarian, my arms around his body as I’d been ordered to keep them. The saddle fur was a lot softer than the saddle itself would have been, but I was still in a good deal of discomfort from the punishment I’d been given. The discomfort was meant to be an extension of that punishment, an object lesson on the consequences of disobedience, and I’d been forbidden to use pain control to make the time any easier. I tried to tell myself I wouldn’t have used pain control anyway, would have preferred feeling the pain to help myself remember that I didn’t care about that beast any longer, but after only a few minutes gave up the effort. It hurt to sit and ride like that, hurt in a way that was terribly humiliating, but I wasn’t being allowed to avoid the sensations. I was being made to feel them and learn from them even if I didn’t want to. I was a banded wenda being taught to obey her l’ lenda.

Depression is a funny emotion; it can be weak enough to simply sour a good mood, or strong enough to cause suicide or murder. It makes you very aware of the grim things happening around you, but lets you ignore anything pleasant; events are never neutral under its sway, only dim, bad, or dreadful. We rode away from Dallan’s house back up to the mountain road Aesnil and I had been caught on during our escape attempt, followed the road to the turnoff for Vediaster, then followed that new road. It was narrow enough to cause us to ride single file for quite a way, surrounded by the rock of the mountain, the trail leading gently but definitely upward. Cinnan’s mount moved eagerly forward, somehow almost smelling Aesnil’s previous passage from the very air we moved through, but no one asked me about it. Cinnan, up ahead, already knew where the search was taking him, and Dallan, bringing up the rear, was simply enjoying the ride and the pretty day. The barbarian I held to was busy with his own thoughts, was enjoying the feel of my arms around him, and was faintly impatient to be where we were going. I, as opposed to the others, was simply depressed.

The higher we climbed into the mountains, the wider the trail became. With the widening came the presence of some grass and eventually a few trees, but I couldn’t seem to make myself interested in the landscape. The air was pure and sweet, warmed by the sun but a good deal cooler than what I’d recently grown used to, and birds flew over us screaming out their indignation at our trespass or merely watching us curiously. The slow, swinging pace was boring and soporific, and when Cinnan pulled off the trail and stopped, it was scarcely an improvement.

“This place seems wide enough to halt for a meal,” Cinnan observed, looking toward the two men who had followed him to the side of the road. “What think you?”

“The same,” Dallan agreed, his casual words showing nothing of his relief. When Cinnan had kept going beyond noon Dallan had begun thinking about his stomach, but Tammad hadn’t noticed. The barbarian was busy plotting and planning again, something that tended to turn him oblivious of his surroundings.

“The halt will do well for us all,” he told Cinnan, reassuring the other man that they weren’t merely wasting time. “When I rode in search of Terril I lacked the good sense to know this of my own self, needing the words of others to calm my haste. The woman is in no danger, Cinnan, merely does she journey as we do. When we find her, you will see the thing for yourself.”

“Indeed,” said Cinnan with a heavy nod, dismounting as he worked to believe what he had been told. “There is little danger in these mountains for those upon seetarr, and once beyond them there will be l’lendaa to give what aid might become necessary, and then the wendaa of Vediaster. Aesnil will not be harmed.”

“Before she is found,” qualified Dallan with a chuckle, also dismounting. “Afterward I feel sure you will speak to her, Cinnan, concerning the foolishness of a woman running from her memabrak and the responsibilities which are hers. My cousin seems greatly in need of a speaking to.”

“Indeed,” Cinnan said again, but this time he didn’t add to the single word. Dallan’s comment had done more to distract him than the barbarian’s reassurances, something

Tammad knew and didn’t mind in the least. He chuckled quietly as he slid from his mount and then turned to lift me down, a chuckle that anticipated what Aesnil would get once they caught up with her. As soon as I was on my feet he went to see what Cinnan was already digging out of one of the packs, leaving me alone to move painfully on the thin, stony grass. I was stiff and aching from the ride, more so than I had been that morning, but that was the way I was supposed to be. It was all part of my punishment to teach me to be a good little girl.

Once I was sure my legs would hold me, I walked as far from the road as possible, right up to the side of the mountain looming so high above us. The grass was slightly thicker there with fewer stones, and the angled sunlight was thick as well. I lay down facing the brownish rock, on my left side in the grass, ignoring the thoughts of comfort coming from the barbarian’s mount. I’d already told him I wanted no comfort, but he refused to leave me alone. He cared about me and could feel the shape and motion of my thoughts, and kept trying to pull me out of the depression. But realizing that the only one really concerned about me was a seetar simply pushed me further down into it.

I lay in relative peace and quiet for a while, aware of the casual conversation exchanged among the men but not really listening to it, and then my solitude was ended. A pair of feet walked up to me through the grass, and a minute later a hand touched my arm.

“Why have you not yet come to me for your food, harm?” the barbarian asked, his hand warm on my arm even through the sleeve. “We must soon resume our journey.”

“I don’t want anything to eat,” I told him, making sure my mind didn’t move toward his. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling very well, but it should pass after a while.”

“You are not ill, wenda,” he said, moving his hand to stroke my hair. “Merely do you feel the punishment you were given for disobedience. The ache will indeed pass, yet not, I hope, the lesson.”

“No, the lesson isn’t likely to leave me very quickly,” I agreed, ignoring the hand on my hair. “Especially since it was a lesson I asked for. I wanted you so much I didn’t stop to ask what I’d be getting, but you’re certainly helping me to find out. From now on I plan on doing a lot of thinking before deciding I want something.”

“What do you speak of, wenda?” he said, his confusion touched only lightly with disturbance. “What is it you mean to ask for?”

“I ask for nothing, memabrak,” I answered, reverting to Rimilian as I sat up away from his hand. “Should it be your wish that I take a meal, I will certainly do so.”

“There—is no need if you have not the desire for it, hama,” he said, his voice a shade more unsure as I stared at the brownish stone in front of me. For the first time that morning he deliberately tried approaching me with his thoughts, but there was nothing out of place for him to find. Every one of my emotions was sealed up and unmoving, and he was far too new at what he was doing to separate and interpret them. I wasn’t resisting him in the slightest, but there was nothing inside me for him to touch.

“Perhaps-you would do well to merely rest till we ride again,” he said at last, upset and frustrated at not being able to find something he couldn’t even define to himself. “I will summon you when your presence is required.”

I had the impression he was about to reach out to touch me again with his hand, but the touch never came. Instead he straightened and walked away, and a minute later there was more low-voiced conversation. I simply lay down again on my side, and stared at weather-browned rock.

After a while I was called over to the seetarr, lifted to my place on the saddle fur, and our trip was resumed. I’d been able to feel a sort of curiosity in the minds of all three of the men when I’d rejoined them, but I hadn’t cared what they were curious about and hadn’t even looked at them. The road kept going upward and we followed the road, the minds of the others working while mine seemed bogged down in the mud. You were a damned fool and now you’re paying for it, something inside me kept saying, paying for it the way every damned fool should. You decided you’re a big girl now, too big to keep running away from commitments, so you made the commitment your gonads screamed for and now you’re stuck with it. You can’t run away and you can’t change it, and you sure as hell can’t live with it. There’s not much of anything you can do, and you know it. Even if you shed a stream of tears it won’t help, because no one cares. I knew the something was right, that even I didn’t care, just like the browned, weathered rock all around.

“So, Terril, your memabrak tells us you mean to learn the doings of a woman of this world.” Dallan’s voice came suddenly from my right, pleased approval beside lighthearted interest. “As that is your wish, I shall myself begin your lessons with a dish unknown to all save my family. I must have your word that you will speak of it to no other, of course, for its preparation is to be a secret between us. Will you give me your word?”

“You may have what you wish, drin Dallan,” I answered, looking at nothing but the broad back I sat behind. “I will, of course, do as you say.”

“Of course,” he echoed, the approval and interest gone elsewhere, a familiar-seeming frustration and disturbance fighting to fill his mind. “When we make camp for the darkness, we will begin.”

No other answer seemed necessary, but it came to me that three minds seemed to be waiting for one anyway. Even Cinnan had apparently listened to the very brief conversation, but the browned rock and I didn’t care.

As we rode higher and the light got lower, the temperature started going down. It still wasn’t as cold as it would have been if we’d been going over the top of the mountain instead of through a relatively low pass, but after the warmth of the rest of the country we’d passed through, the difference felt extreme. By the time sundown came and we found a place for the night, the men had already pulled their shirts on and my feet felt numb. There was very little more than stones and rock all around, and I was given my new ankle-highs as soon as the barbarian took me from the saddle fur. I put them on without saying anything, then walked back and forth a few times until my legs and back stopped aching so much and my feet felt less wooden.

The three l’lendaa took their seetarr to the left of our camping place to tie and hobble them and relieve them of their burden, but Dallan left his two to the others and came back almost immediately with wood for a fire. He built the fire then went back to his packs, and this time returned with meat and a pot and vegetables and all sorts of things. When he gestured to me I joined him at the fire, then started doing things at his direction. Every once in a while he tried teasing me, then finally gave it up.

By the time the meal was ready it was full dark, the camp was completely set up, and we needed to sit near the fire to keep from shivering. Three camtahh were now standing away from the road near the mountain wall, one for each of the men. I served out the thick stew I’d made according to direction into four wooden bowls, and wondered which of the three small tents I’d be sent to.

“This dish of yours seems quite interesting, Dallan,” Cinnan said as he took a bowl and sniffed at its contents, his brows rising in approval. “Likely the wenda had a great deal to do with the manner in which its aroma takes one, yet does it appear interesting.”

“I do not recall it ever being quite this tasty,” Dallan said thoughtfully after sampling the contents of his own bowl. “Surely was it somehow improved in its preparation. What think you, Tammad?”

“It cannot be as enticing as it appears,” the barbarian said with a frown, reaching for the third bowl. “I have seen many dishes which appear quite savory, few which taste the same.” He fell silent while taking a small bite of the stew, took a second, larger one with strong surprise, then looked again at Dallan. “It is excellent, my friend, truly excellent! Confess now, the doing was primarily yours.”

“I did little more than supervise,” Dallan said with a laugh of enjoyment, crouching nearer to the fire with his bowl. “The actual doing was Terril’s alone, a wenda who will clearly require little teaching before becoming a woman like no other. You are a fortunate man, Tammad, truly fortunate.”

“Indeed,” said Cinnan with enthusiasm, but whatever else he said was lost after that. I had left the fire after doing the last thing required of me, and had by then reached the seetarr. It was terribly cold away from the fire, and dark enough to make the footing treacherous, but I couldn’t hold back any longer. I had to have someone to share my misery with, or it would explode and break me to pieces.

The barbarian’s seetar knew I was coming, and rumbled softly in encouragement until I reached him. Once I was there he lowered his giant head to my shoulder, pushing me up against his great black body so that I might share his warmth, his mind immediately putting out soothing thoughts. He didn’t know what was bothering me, didn’t understand anything beyond the fact that I was bothered, but that didn’t keep him from trying to comfort me. As I pressed my cheek to his soft, sleek hide and held him as far around as I could, I wondered just how many times he had comforted me since I’d come to that world. He’d been my first friend, the only one who had never judged me or tried to make me do things his way, the only one who had always been concerned with nothing but my happiness. He didn’t understand why I couldn’t seem to find that happiness, but that was because he didn’t know me for the damned fool I was.

“I had thought as much,” a quiet voice said from behind me, a voice that startled two of the other seetarr. “When my wenda takes herself from the sight of men, there is but a single place she may be found. How is it possible for a man to feel jealousy toward a seetar?”

“Forgive me, memabrak.” I said at once, pushing away from the big black body I didn’t want to leave, turning to face the large dark shadow standing so near. “You sought to tell me which of your brothers you would have me give pleasure to. Speak his name, and I will go to him.”

“His name is Tammad,” the barbarian answered with a growl, and then his hand was wrapped around my arm. “I see there must again be words between us, for I cannot bear this. Come with me.”

The hand around my arm pulled me away from the seetarr and back toward the fire, leaving rumblings and bellowings behind us. My friend didn’t like having me pulling away from him before he could comfort me, not even by his owner, and he wasn’t leaving his unhappiness in doubt. If he hadn’t been well tied and hobbled, he might have tried to follow us.

“Tammad, what occurs?” Cinnan demanded as we reached the fire, his big body standing and frowning into the darkness. “What has disturbed the seetarr?”

“They wish to give challenge for the possession of a wenda,” the barbarian answered, his voice as sour as his thoughts, pushing me down next to the warmth. “A wenda who has learned to be perfectly obedient. ”

“Obedient,” Dallan echoed, heavy distaste in his mind. “May we ask what her obedience entailed?”

“She requested the name of which of my brothers I meant to give her to for the darkness,” was the answer while I tried to warm up enough to stop shivering. I didn’t know what they were so upset about, but if all they were going to do was carry on a conversation with each other, I could have stayed with the seetarr.

“She had cause for such a question, had she not, my friend?” Cinnan asked, turning near the fire to face the barbarian. “Also do I believe that her request was in no manner a refusal.”

“She has become as all wendaa should be, Tammad,” Dallan observed, also turning where he stood. “For what reason are you disturbed and dissatisfied?”

“I am not disturbed and dissatisfied,” the barbarian said through his teeth, his mind seething, and then he blurted, “She calls me memabrak.”

“For what reason should she not?” Dallan asked, sounding calm and totally reasonable. “Are you not her memabrak, the one who has banded her?”

“Certainly,” the barbarian answered, trying for a calm to match Dallan’s. “And yet—”

“And as she now obeys you without question, you may indeed give her to Dallan or myself to warm our furs,” Cinnan put in, now adopting the calm the barbarian wanted. “Which of us will it be, Tammad?”

“No!” the barbarian snapped as his mind jangled, but then he caught himself with an almost-audible snap. “That is, I would be honored were either of you to accept the use of my wenda, however there is something of a difficulty,” he said as he backtracked, his mind whirling madly. “The difficulty is-that is, seems to be-rather, appears very much like—”

“Yes?” Cinnan prompted pleasantly, helping out when the barbarian fell silent, the muddle of his thoughts rising to a clamor. I wasn’t looking at any of them, only at the fire, wishing I could climb into the middle of it.

“If there is a difficulty, we would assist with it, my friend,” Dallan said, sounding somewhat less-amused than Cinnan. “Just as you would not hesitate to assist us.”

“The difficulty,” Tammad repeated, still horribly at a loss, and then he seemed to give up. “The difficulty is that she prefers the company of a seetar to mine. That she calls me memabrak rather than hamak or sadendrak as she formerly did. That the shine is gone from her, the vibrant glow which was my beloved. She now obeys me as I demand, and in doing so is no longer with me. One full day of complete obedience, and I cannot bear it; I must surely be going mad!”

“Do not despair, brother,” Cinnan said very quietly, moving from the fire to gently clap the barbarian on the shoulder. “The difference in the woman is so great that I was drawn from my distraction because of it. There is indeed something amiss, and we would do well to discover it.”

“What is amiss is that this is no longer Terril we see,” Dallan said, more in practical questioning than in pure sympathy. “As you said, Tammad, there is no longer a glow about her, no longer the sense of being in the presence of one of unusual strength. She is as lovely and desirable as ever, yet has she become-ordinary.”

“Ordinary,” the barbarian echoed, filled again with that whirling disturbance. “And yet, this is what she had wished to be, what I sought to help her become. For what reason are we neither of us pleased’?”

“The wenda’s lack of pleasure is likely due to her seeking to be what she is not,” Dallan answered, his voice and mind very serious. “Yours, however, more likely stems from having mistaken your own desires. I have no doubt that you have had many wendaa, most of them eager to be in your bands. For what reason did you fail to keep them there’?”

There was no more of an answer than an increase in mental whirling, an answer Dallan couldn’t make much use of, but he had always been exceptionally good at getting things from silences.

“You see,” he said, just as though the barbarian had spoken. “You made no effort to keep those others in your bands, for you sought not the ordinary but its opposite. Many men wish no more than a soft, loving, eager and obedient wenda; you are not one such as that.”

“You speak the truth, brother,” the barbarian said with a sigh, still not over his upset but finally calming down. “It most certainly is not an ordinary wenda that I desire, and now I am aware of what must be done.”

It took him no more than two steps to reach me, and then he crouched down to my left.

“Hear me, hama, for I wish to speak of an error that I have made,” he said, putting his right arm around me. “I was mistaken in demanding complete obedience from you, for such a thing does indeed make you other than that which I wish you to be. You no longer need be concerned with obedience, for I shall no longer demand it.”

His words were warm and eager, his mind filled with excited anticipation, and his arm tightened the least little bit, as though he expected me to turn to him and throw my arms around him. I kept watching the leaping, crackling fire, and nodded very slightly.

“I thank you for your consideration of me, memabrak,” I said, wishing I had a coat or a fur to put around me. “When you have decided upon what degree of obedience you wish from me, merely inform me and I will, of course, see to it.”

“What is it you speak of now, woman’?” he demanded, disappointment bringing him anger. “I have said you no longer need be absolutely obedient. For what reason do you remain so-distant and strange?”

“At first I was informed that I must be completely obedient,” I said, forcing the words out against a vast reluctance. “When I failed, I was punished to teach me my error. Now that I have become completely obedient, I am told that you wish me to be otherwise. As I have no desire to be punished again, you must tell me what you wish and exactly how disobedient I am to be. Am I to obey you only in the mornings and evenings? Only through midday? On alternate days or perhaps every third or fourth day? Is the decision to be mine, or am I to disobey only at the direction of another? Speak to me, memabrak, and tell your wenda exactly what you wish. ”

I ended up looking directly at him, the anger rising in me so swiftly that it was totally out of control, blazing at him through mind and eyes. The expression he wore was pure confusion, shock and dismay, a very accurate sampling of what he was feeling. The next strongest emotion in him was guilt, brought about by the realization that his error hadn’t been what he’d thought it was.

“You attempt to berate me for my foolishness,” he began, “and you are correct in feeling wronged, however . . . .”

“Wronged!” I repeated, getting more outraged by the minute. “I sought to keep you safe from harm, and you gave me punishment for the effort! I sought to merge my life with yours, and you thrust me behind you! I fought to accept and control what rises roaring within me for your sake, and you dismissed my struggle with disbelief and insult! Insult. Never will you know the true meaning of insult till you must face it without the presence of a sword and the strength to ease it. The fault for all of this, however, is not yours but mine. It was I who wished to belong to you, and now I do. The more fool, I.”

I stood up and walked away from both him and the fire, passing between a very silent Cinnan and Dallan, feeling the weight of all their eyes and minds but refusing to let any of it touch me. I didn’t have to let any of it touch me, none of them was strong enough to force their will on mine, not even working together. That, of course, was the key to stopping what Tammad had done to me with his mind, not wanting it to affect me. He had overwhelmed me because I’d loved him so much I had wanted to deny him nothing, and that’s exactly what you get out of a softheaded attitude like that. Nothing.

Without really paying attention to what I was doing, I picked out one of the camtahh and entered it. Once I was through the roofed-over verandah and in the tent flaps I could stand straight again, but what I wanted couldn’t be reached by standing up. I got down on my hands and knees in the absolute darkness, crawled and groped around for the sleeping furs I knew would be there, then pulled one to me when I found it. Getting angry had chased some of the chill away, but not enough to make the fur unnecessary. I didn’t know whose tent I’d crawled into, and I didn’t care. I simply wrapped myself in the fur and sat staring into the darkness.

Not many minutes passed before I heard a sound from the verandah, and then the tent flaps were pushed aside. Tammad came in holding a candle, shielding its flame with one hand, then turned once he was inside to reach to one of the tent braces. He let a few drops of hot wax fall onto the brace before setting the candle on it, then was able to leave the candle knowing it would stand where it had been put. He sat himself down about three feet away from me with half a sigh and half a grunt, then looked at me bleakly.

“Truly must a man be bereft to insist upon a woman of pride, spirit, and strength,” he said, the disgust in his eyes and mind more than clear. “What difficulty I face is self-chosen difficulty, for there are many wendaa indeed I might have had in your place. And it was not my intention to give you insult. ”

“Of course not,” I agreed, nodding at him. “All you were trying to do was drive me crazy. Please accept my congratulations on your success.”

“Enough, wenda,” he growled, annoyance flaring in him.

“Your tongue has already stripped the skin from my flesh. I will not allow the taking of the flesh as well. I attempt to speak words of apology.”

“And what if I don’t want to hear those words?” I asked, pulling the fur more closely about me, seriously meaning what I’d said. “What if I honor the commitment I’ve made to be your belonging, but do nothing beyond that? You can’t touch any part of the inner me if I don’t allow it; what if I refuse to allow it?”

“Have I truly given you that much hurt?” he asked, his light eyes filled with sadness and pain. “The punishment I gave was my duty as I saw it, and would not be withdrawn even were it possible. As for the rest—I had not meant to bind you to strangling, nor did I mean to give insult with disbelief. Should you make the effort to see it so, I, too, was given insult. It was clearly understood between us that my word would bind you, yet were my wishes thrown aside the moment it suited you. The decision was yours that I would accept your protection, whether I desired it or no.”

The lines of the disagreement were suddenly a lot less clear-cut than they had been a few minutes earlier, but I wasn’t about to let him talk me out of my mad. He was really good at that, shifting the ground under my feet, but this time I wasn’t going to let him do it.

“Weren’t you doing the same thing to me’?” I demanded, straightening where I sat. “Did you consider my wishes in anything you did? How would you like it if I laughed and refused when you offered protection? It would make you feel pretty cheap and small, now wouldn’t it?”

“Protection of a man’s wenda is his duty, Terril,” he answered very gently, still looking down at me with that same expression. “It matters not in what manner you accept the offer, only is the manner in which I discharge the duty to be considered. Should you wish to laugh you may do so; still shall I protect you with all the skill and determination at my command. Do you mean to contend that you did not disobey me, and therefore should not have been punished?”

“I-was trying to do what was best for everyone involved,” I maintained, upset to realize that being laughed at wouldn’t have bothered him. “You made the plans and included me in them, and not once was I consulted, not by any of you. If you three can do it, why can’t I?”

“You have no need to be told the reason, for you already know it,” he said with such true, easy calm that I wanted to avoid those light eyes pinning me with a stare. “We who are l’lendaa see to decisions such as that, and have no need to consult with what wendaa may be involved. Speak to me truly, Terril: are you l’lenda yourself, or a lovely, desirable, beloved wench?”

“What’s wrong with being both?” I demanded, hating the way he described a woman for the way it made me want to be like that. “You said you couldn’t stand my being absolutely obedient, so you don’t see anything wrong with it either. You want me to be both.”

“No, wenda,” he disagreed, even more gentle than he had been, a faint, fond smile curving his lips. “You were wise to show me the foolishness of what I had demanded, for to be such a thing would make you no longer yourself, no longer the woman I love so deeply. You must be what you are, yet does that continue to mean a wenda, one who must nevertheless be as obedient as possible to the man to whom she belongs. I have no doubt that you shall continue to require punishment, yet shall that punishment never be given for speaking the truth as you did earlier. No more shall it bring you than my apologies, for having wronged the woman I love.”

“I hate you!” I cried, thrusting the fur away so that I might throw myself on him and beat at his face with my fists. I did hate him, desperately, for making everything turn out the way he wanted it to, for the fact that a real l’lenda didn’t need anyone else’s agreement in order to be that thing—and for forcing me to know how terribly I still loved him. I didn’t want to be nothing but a wenda, but at the same time I wanted to be nothing other than his wenda, nothing but the beloved of a man who could apologize when he found he’d been wrong. I screamed and threw myself at him, raging at the way he’d pulled me back to him so easily, but he didn’t even have to unfold his legs to defend himself from my attack. Before my fists could touch him my wrists were in his hands, and then they were behind my back and I was being pulled up against him.

“You feel no hatred, my beloved, no more than do I,” he said, looking down into my eyes as I struggled uselessly against his strength. “No more than unhappiness touches you, and for that I am indeed responsible. I will strive to the utmost to remove that unhappiness, for never should it have been allowed to approach you.”

He put one hand to my hair then bent his head to kiss me, at the same time touching my mind with his love. His lips were so soft and warm against mine, nothing to really fight against, nothing to hate or resent. He kissed me gently, lovingly, tenderly, this barbarian who could have crushed me to broken bones with only a fraction of his limitless strength. I suddenly found my arms were around his neck and I was kissing him back, but not with the more pristine emotions. I wanted him as much as I always did, with both body and mind, and when he realized that he chuckled.

“It’s not funny, you beast,” I murmured, pressing myself to his body as I kissed his face. “And I do hate you-for always winning.”

“Are not my victories yours as well, hama sadendra?” he asked, letting his hands move over me. “First you must eat, and then I shall give you the joy I am able to feel that you desire. ”

“I forgot about eating,” I said with annoyance, but his mention of food reminded me just how hungry I was. “But while we’re at it, shouldn’t we also move to your own camtah’?”

“Wenda, we are already in my camtah,” he said with a grin, moving me back off his lap so that he might get himself ready to leave the tent. “Which other of those we ride with would have set out two sets of sleeping furs?”

He gestured just before moving through the tent flaps, and I turned my head to see that he was right. The fur I’d taken to put around myself was his, but mine were spread out just beyond that. It annoyed me that I’d gone straight to his tent even when I was furious with him, but something inside me was smugly satisfied. I crawled over and retrieved the fur I’d dropped, wrapped it around me and sat where I’d been, then decided that I didn’t much care for this “something inside me.” Having part of me be totally on Tammad’s side struck me as the basest sort of betrayal, and I’d have to see what I could do to get rid of it permanently.

A minute later Tammad was back, with the fourth bowl of stew that had been kept warm by the fire. I took the bowl and raised the scoop to my lips, took a good mouthful of the stew—then just looked at the crouching barbarian until I’d managed to swallow it.

“That was awful,” I got out at last, seeing his grin at the face I was making. “I thought you three said it was so wonderful?”

“We deemed it wonderful to give pleasure to you, wench,” he answered, still clearly amused. “Each of us was able to feel your great unhappiness, and wished to give you a thing to be proud of. For us your effort was filled with true excellence, for we measured the desire behind the effort rather than the doing itself.”

“You all lied to make me feel better,” I accused, but the accusation brought only a silly smile and a feeling of true warmth. “Thank you for doing something that-foolish. ”

“To give others pleasure is never foolish, hama,” he said with an answering smile, no least feeling of insult in him at being accused of lying. “Finish quickly, now, so that I may give pleasure to another.”

“And of course take nothing for yourself,” I agreed with a laugh, then went back to the awful stew. It wasn’t absolutely awful, just badly seasoned and a little overcooked, but that put it way out of the running as far as regular Rimilian cooking went. It annoyed me that I hadn’t been able to get it right even with Dallan right there to help, and I made the decision to try just a little harder next time. After that the bowl was taken away from me, and all the following decisions were made by someone absolutely determined to give someone else pleasure.