“We shall now return!” said he without sound, his light eyes nearly wild with anger. “Come of your own volition, or be forced to my will!”
“I go elsewhere,” said I, also without sound as I returned his gaze. “Your will means naught.”
Surely did my meaning reach him, for his eyes began to blaze as I turned my face once more toward the movement which I wished to approach. His arm, still held before me, seemed a slim barrier to my purpose, for an arm is easily avoided, yet this conclusion proved to be an error. With no further words and more quickly than I would have thought possible, the arm encircled me, and immediately upon contact all about me vanished.
In the blackness which I next found myself, breathing proved nearly as difficult as motion. The weight of all things seemed to be upon me, and only slowly did I become aware of that which surrounded me. The sweetness in the air was very faint, a last lingering memory of that which had been, and my sight returned with the awareness of Lialt’s arm about me, holding my shoulders from the lenga pelt and forcing a pot of liquid to my lips. No more than three swallows of the liquid was I allowed before the pot was taken from my lips, yet those three swallows proved sufficient to restore me somewhat. Again was I able to lift my arms and legs and no longer did my back require Lialt’s support. I sat upon the pelt, Lialt’s dwelling about me, and gazed most bitterly at the male who crouched beside me.
“We shall one fey have a reckoning between us,” said I to the male as he gazed narrow-eyed upon me. “I had no wish to return to this place as yet, and care little for having been forced here. What land was that, and how may I return to it?”
Lialt crouched beside me without movement, his gaze as narrow-eyed as it had been, his forearms resting upon his thighs, no response to my questions upon his lips. Again were we each clad as we had been, somehow accomplished without my notice, and the warmth of the dwelling had caused moisture to form about my feet beneath their fur wrappings. Much did I wish to remove the wrappings, yet the slow head-shaking at that moment produced by Lialt stayed my hand.
“You know not even where you were,” said he, an odd tone to his voice, “yet you wish to return there. Were you born without sense, or have your recent wounds merely robbed you of what little you were given?”
So quietly were these words spoken that a moment passed before I felt insulted. For a male to speak so to a warrior was great foolishness, yet I had no weapon to hand with which I might wipe out the insult. There was much between Lialt and myself which needed seeing to, and each time I had dealings with the male, the differences grew greater. I shifted upon the lenga pelt, knowing that the fey upon which these differences were settled would be bloody indeed.
“Again your chin rises in stubbornness,” said he, the calm tone rising to anger. “Though you be a child of the Snows, do you not know how close you came to being lost? By whose permission did you make free with my pipe? How dared you refuse to obey my will upon the Snows? In the name of the Serene Oneness, should Ceralt fail to punish you this time, I shall do so myself!”
His anger had risen to great heights, and again his light eyes blazed as they had done in the strange white land. Forever was this Lialt becoming angered, and I had long since tired of it. No Tarla was I, to be spoken to so.
“Lialt forgets that Mida watches over her warrior,” said I quite coldly. “No danger was there in my being lost, save by the will of Mida. Should Mida wish one lost, that one will be lost no matter what her place might be. Your pipe lay in the open, a clear invitation to any who chanced by, and the war leader Jalav was pleased to accept the invitation, thereby honoring you. The will of a male means naught to a warrior, and less than that to a war leader of the Hosta. Lialt has now been answered, and Jalav, too, would be answered. What land have I stood in, and how may I return to it?”
“By the fetid stench of Sigurr the dark!” shouted Lialt, rising to his full height so that he might glare down upon me. “I grow exceedingly weary of being told of Mida, warriors, and war leaders! Know you, wench, that one must walk the Snows many times with one who has often done so, before one may walk there alone! I, a Pathfinder, know the manner in which one may return from there, yet you, no more than a child of the Snows who has never been trained in the ways of a Pathfinder, would become lost till your body died from lack of tenancy! The thread is thin between flesh and spirit when the spirit walks the Snows, and had I not been there, even your Mida would not have been able to return you! Had I known that your spirit would find release through the Clouds of Seeing, never would you have been allowed entrance to my halyar! From this moment on, you are forbidden entrance here, and should I again find you within, you shall be chained to the wall in your own halyar! Have I made matters sufficiently clear for you?”
“Indeed.” I nodded, rising also to my feet so that I might gaze more directly into his eyes. “Lialt has shown that he fears the presence of Jalav in the white land, and for this he cannot be faulted. There are few lands which would not fall sooner to Midanna than to males.”
I folded my arms beneath my life sign as I spoke these words, and regarded the purpling of Lialt’s visage with great interest. Seldom had I seen such anger directed at me before I had begun moving among the lands of males, and the occurrence yet held fascination. From the fey I had become war leader of the Hosta, none had dared attempt the direction of my behavior, nor had any spoken to me in the manner of males save with sword in hand. Of those who had faced me, none survived to give insult a second time, for quarter in battle is not the way of Midanna. It was a thing Midanna had yet to teach these males, for Lialt knew not what his words and actions might bring when directed toward a warrior. His purpling visage well displayed before me, he yet felt the need to draw himself up to an even greater height, and placed a large, grim hand upon my arm.
“I cannot speak with you,” he choked, great anger tightening the grip of his fingers. “Each time I speak with you, the urge for violence claims me? I shall return you to your halyar and leave you for Ceralt to see to!”
Rudely was I then taken, by the arm, from the dwelling, a large-eyed and fearful Tarla awaiting without as we emerged. Lialt spared her no more than a glance as he strode past, hurrying me from the vicinity of his dwelling, and much did my anger match the male’s. In no manner was I able to release his grip from my arm, nor was I able to slow his pace. Much did I wish to put the question to Mida as to the why of males having been given such strength, the while warriors were made to do with lesser. Tarla, seeing my anger and Lialt’s and growing even more frightened, nevertheless hurried to match our pace so that she might walk to the far side of Lialt.
“Lialt, what has happened?” she ventured in a low voice, glancing about herself at the great interest shown by those males and females of the village who had earlier looked upon us. They now stood and stared with disturbance clear upon their features, the males with frowns, the females close to fear. A moment Lialt remained silent, and then, grudgingly, he spoke.
“She enveloped herself within the Clouds of Seeing and walked the Snows alone,” said he, his eyes touching neither the girl beside him nor the folk all about. “I should have known from her ability to close me from her mind that the Paths would be open to her, yet the thought had not touched me. Had she been lost, the fault would have been mine.”
Tarla had gasped and paled upon hearing his words, yet at the end of them, her hand reached out shyly to touch the arm of the male.
“You could not have truly known,” said she, her voice soft and comforting, her dark eyes upon the tightened jaw muscles so clearly to be seen upon his cheek. “The High Rider shall see that you could not have known.”