“Your ability in healing has my greatest admiration, brother,” said he to Lialt who had accompanied him. “Her skin has again the look of life to it, and her body seems even this soon to have regained a deal of flesh. She will look well in the circle with my leather about her, of this I have no doubt.”
“Indeed,” nodded Lialt, also agrin. “She regains her vitality so quickly that even I am amazed. Perhaps she may be circled the next moon—with Famira to accompany her. Your riders seem pleased that Famira may now be looked upon.”
“They are extremely pleased,” laughed Ceralt, his eyes yet upon me. “My uncle has too long presumed upon the lack of a woman of his own to keep his daughter from circling. Should he need his halyar tended to, there are sufficient females about who have been left without a man, and he may choose from among those. Famira goes to one who shall not be a father to her.”
“A thing she does not care for,” chuckled Lialt, his eyes, too, upon me. “Much did she rage and carry on when your decision reached her, for she hoped to be the one to choose to whom she would go. Drimin would have been her choice, for he is unusually shy with wenches and would have easily been controlled by her, yet Drimin shall not return from the rounds of trade till after she has been circled. A full rider shall have her, and not she him.”
“Such shall prove best for her,” murmured Ceralt, bending to me to put the backs of his fingers to my cheek. “A strong wench requires a stronger man if she is to find happiness and pleasure.”
In anger, I struck his hand from me, yet he did no more than laugh and stand erect again. His eyes were filled with great desire, and once he had gone, I examined my ribs in misery. In truth, my appetite of late had been immense, and the gauntness I had been so pleased with was nearly gone. No more than three feyd had passed, yet the gauntness was nearly gone! I took the wooden comb in my hand and threw it from me, watching in great anger as it struck the wall of the dwelling and fell to the floor. A warrior had no need to understand the doings of Mida, merely had she to accept them, yet the acceptance of what had been done to me was difficult indeed. In no way save through Mida’s intervention could I have regained my former appearance, and much did I wish to rail at such a doing. Now I was again pleasing to males, again the object of their desire, a thing which would make escape much more difficult. I lay upon my belly in the lenga furs, angry, hurt, miserable. Was it Mida’s wish that I again be punished for some error or omission? Had I failed again to obey her commands, or was I still condemned for earlier failures? I knew not which it was, and very nearly cared naught for the meaning. Much had I striven to obey Mida, and much had I been punished for my failures, yet now it seemed that I might not be given further opportunity for obedience. Again I feared that I had been given into the hands of males forever, and I fretted the point till sickness filled me, yet when Tarla brought my provender at darkness, I could do naught save fall upon it. A warrior’s strength, it seemed, was to be returned to her, yet not without a price. I fed upon the provender, seeing little else which might be done, and thought only of the time when I might find escape.
Upon the fourth fey, seeing that little had been accomplished by pretense of weakness—the males had continued to force the potion of sleep upon me—and driven nearly mad by the long confinement, I determined that that fey I would walk about my place of capture. When Lialt arrived to carry me to the tree, he discovered Jalav erect upon her feet, prepared to walk about wherever needful. Tarla had been startled by my mobility, yet Lialt appeared to have expected some such. No more was needed than a small amount of argument before it was established that I might go where I would with none save Tarla accompanying me. Such a decision pleased me, for Tarla was neither warrior nor male, and should the opportunity arise, escape from her would not be difficult.
With Lialt gone upon his way, Tarla and I emerged from the dwelling into a fey which was lacking in brightness. Gray were the skies above us, high yet seemingly not far distant, and the cold of the air was quiet, with no wind to disturb it. I shivered in my leather garment, smelling a smell upon the air which I knew not, and Tarla also looked about herself.
“Perhaps this winter the snows may come early,” said she, her nostrils flaring slightly, showing that she, too, was aware of the smell in the air. “Lialt has said that the snows shall not this soon be upon us, yet this fey may prove him wrong.”
“Tarla,” said I, looking upon her, “what might ‘snows’ be? I have heard mention of it, yet never have I been told the meaning of the thing.”
The female’s dark eyes left off their roving and came to me with surprise strong in them. “Have you never seen snow, Jalav?” she asked, her head to one side. “Your land must be strange indeed never to have produced snow.”
“My land is ever warm,” said I, somewhat annoyed with her tone, “not bleak and lifeless as the land hereabouts. Sooner would I have the warmth.”
“And I would not have missed knowing snow,” said she with a shrug. “Perhaps you may judge more accurately when once you have seen it. Snow, Jalav, comes from the skies in the manner of rain, yet it is white and light and silent and able to fill the entire land with its presence. It lies upon the ground, often in mounds, and is very cold to the touch. Children joy in playing in it, yet it is difficult to travel about in it. Such is snow—both a joy and a difficulty.”
“I see,” said I, moving slowly across the ground as I thought upon her words. Snow, then, was Mida-sent, yet I was unable to visualize what the occurrence must be like. Surely Tarla must partly be in error, for how might the substance fall lightly yet lie heavily upon the ground? Deeply did I sigh then, wishing myself more than ever back among the Midanna, where a warrior might know the why of things about her. The lands of males held naught save questions without answers, problems without solutions, ills without cures. Even Mida’s ground lay hard and cold beneath one’s feet, bringing about the necessity for furs upon one’s legs, garments upon one’s body. Much did I dislike the presence of such things yet, in the lands of males, they were necessary.
Tarla and I walked from the vicinity of my dwelling, yet I was not yet of a mind to enter further into the village. Many village folk were about, as seemed to be usual, and no wish had I to join them in their movings about. Rather, I walked toward the enclosure of the white beasts, wishing to see more of them, feeling my curiosity aroused. Within the enclosure were a number of males, they being watched by a number of females who stood beyond the confines of the enclosure, and much pleased did the females seem to be. Their voices rose in great excitement and laughter, their hands clasped or pounded upon the wood of the enclosure, and clearly were they unable to keep from jumping about where they stood, Tarla, too, laughed softly as she looked upon them, yet I saw naught which might call for amusement.
“Let us hurry, Jalav,” said Tarla, taking a grip upon the leather of my sleeve, her eyes yet upon the enclosure. “The riders are about to break more of the lanthay to the rein, and we are in time to watch. Hurry, Jalav, hurry!”
Such was the urgency in the young female’s tone that I quickened my pace as she had asked, though I knew not the reason for haste. Shortly we stood before the enclosure, which was made of logs hewn from trees, they then being bound with much leather to upright posts at each end. These logs stood my height from the ground, a height which allowed the beasts, apparently called lanthay, to place no more than their heads and necks above the obstruction to their freedom. The village females, in high good humor, peered between the logs at that which was occurring within the enclosure, yet I, taller than they, found the position uncomfortable. I gazed a moment at the logs before me, then, with some noticeable protest from my healing wounds, climbed the logs to their top, thereby obtaining an unrestricted view of the goings-on within.