Perhaps two hands of males stood within the enclosure, most with the short, heavy twisting of leather usually worn at their belts now in their hands, their attention upon the greater number of lanthay which had been herded toward the far end of the area. As I settled myself atop the highest post, two of the males cracked their twisted leather whips toward the herded lanthay, causing them to move backward from the line of males. The balance of the males looked toward three who stood closer to the post I sat upon, they three being engaged with a single lanthay which obviously had not yet been shown the superiority of two-legged beasts. The lanthay stood much as unbroken gandod do, four legs spread wide against the bending of its neck by two of the males, its head and ears firmly in their grasp, its entire body attempting to pull loose from that which held it. The two males strained to keep the beast still while the third placed a wide leather strap about its middle, just above the shoulders. The third male worked quickly, and when the strap had been set he grasped a leather lead which led to the beast’s mouth, mounted in one smooth leap, clutched the strap with his right hand while keeping the lead in his left, and shouted to the two males who held the lanthay. At his shout, the two males moved as one, throwing themselves from the sides of the lanthay, running rapidly in opposite directions. In Midanna lands, there had sometimes been gandod who had not realized that they had been freed, gandod who stood with jaws bound shut yet otherwise free, but unmoving as though they were still held. The lanthay before me had no such misconceptions, for as soon as it was released, it screamed its rage, throwing its head back in an attempt to strike the puny annoyance upon it and free itself completely. The male wisely avoided the thrust of the white, furred head, which further enraged the beast. It reared high and smote the air with battering hooves while screaming its challenge to all within hearing, then began jumping about and kicking out with its rear hooves. The male upon its back clung with hands and knees, clung through the trumpeting challenge and bone-jarring leaps, clung through the shaking and twisting, already beginning to use the leather rein to curtail and guide his mount. The lanthay jumped stiff-legged toward the wall of the enclosure, blazing rage in its large, red eyes, and the females who stood there screamed and backed hurriedly away, fearful lest the beast come through the wall at them. The male attempted to force his mount back toward the center of the enclosure, yet his efforts were in vain. I, having seen such behavior from gandod many times, merely gripped the log I sat upon as the giant lanthay hurled itself against the logs of the enclosure, attempting to crush the life from the male upon its back. The logs trembled to the onslaught., too sturdy to sway as a lighter wall might, yet not untouched by the attack. The males within the enclosure, those keeping the herd of other lanthay at bay, called out to the rider with laughter and encouragement and advice, all watching attentively, none seeming concerned. Tarla, who had joined the watching females, now stood back from the wall with them, alarmed, as were the others, and then, amid the screams of fright, the male upon the lanthay behaved foolishly. The beast had been twisting toward the wall, hoping to scrape the male from his seat, and the male, fearing that his right leg would be crushed between the beast and the wood, shifted his weight and knee grip. As swiftly as lightning strikes from Mida’s skies, so swiftly did the lanthay see the meaning of the movement upon its back, and immediately it, too, moved to advantage. Its head went down as its hind quarters erupted toward the skies, and the male, no longer deeply seated, was thrown to the ground over the lanthay’s head. He struck the ground heavily, pain flashing across his face as the metal of his belt was driven into his back, yet this was not his most pressing problem. The lanthay, knowing that that which lay before it was the enemy which had dared to mount it, sounded its challenge once again, then made for the male. He upon the ground knew well that the lanthay wished his blood, for he made haste to roll from the path of the thundering hooves which were meant to take the life from him, his effort taking him to safety by no more than a finger’s width. Upon the charge of the lanthay, those two males who had aided the third to mount, raced forward with twisted leather flails cracking, and drove the lanthay from him upon the ground. Such foolishness caused me to laugh softly, for among the Midanna there would have been none to chase the gando from him. A warrior knows that should she show weakness before any gando, even one broken to the rein, the gando will strike immediately, taking her life if possible. A warrior who wishes to teach a gando mastery does so alone, for there may not be others about should the gando, one fey, revert. A Hosta who has taken seat upon a new mount is then alone, to overcome or be overcome. In no other way might Midanna use the gando with confidence.
The male upon the ground looked about himself, then rose to his feet and brushed the dirt from his leathers, also putting a hand to his back where the fall had hurt him. His eyes slid past the knot of anxious females, who still gazed upon the retreating, trumpeting lanthay with fear, then came to rest upon me where I sat atop the wall. The garment I wore was a great annoyance, nearly too tight to allow me my seat upon the wall, yet I paid it little mind as I gazed upon the male. He, large and strongly made, dark of hair and eye as were the others, frowned as he looked upon me, then moved the closer.
“Your amusement is offensive, wench,” said he in a rasp of a voice, looking up to where I sat. “Should you be made to take seat upon a wild lanthay, your own self, you would find little to amuse you!”
“It was not the ride which was amusing,” said I, the still grinning. “Males must ever seek the aid of others, unable to do a thing themselves. Should you have been alone with the beast, upon a plains, perhaps, would you also have allowed it the opportunity to reach you as you did just now?”
The male stood angrily, fists on hips, face raised toward me, yet he made no answer, for the answer was clear. Had he been alone, his effort would have been greater; he had allowed the presence of others to lull his achievement from him. No warrior would have behaved so, and his skin darkened with annoyance and perhaps humiliation.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his brows creased in a frown. “What village do you come from that you feel free to speak to a rider so?”
“I come from no village,” I replied, raising my head somewhat. “I am of the Hosta of the Midanna, a people far superior to those of any village. The males hereabouts would find little patience for their lacks in the land of the Midanna.”
I spoke with some annoyance, for I tired of the manner in which males addressed me. No respect had they for a war leader, and much would I have joyed in leading my warriors against them. The male before me frowned further, then his features cleared as a malicious grin touched him.
“You are the savage wench fetched here by Ceralt!” said he, his large hands reaching forth to grasp the logs of the wall as he pulled himself up to sit beside me. His eyes moved about me in a manner he had not used before, and he laughed as my chin rose high in insult. “I now see why Ceralt is eager for you to circle,” said he with a chuckle. “You are indeed a beauty, made to inspire a man to high achievement in the furs. Perhaps my leather, too, shall await you from without the circle.”
I cared little for the words and look of the male, and less for the intimidation that I would soon be chosen by any who desired me. Bleakly I looked upon the male and shook my head.