At last I forced myself from the tree and walked on, knowing an easy trot would be best for the distance I must cover, knowing also that even the easiest of trots was beyond me. When the darkness grew too cold and tiring to bear, I would choose a long branch and trim it, then use a stone or tree to sharpen it, thereby giving my mind and hands something to do that would keep sleep from them. Sleep was now my enemy, and enemies must be conquered if one is to survive. I blew upon my hands and rubbed them, causing them to tingle, then held them to my face till the burning in my cheeks had eased. My eyes had found my fur leg wrappings, and I stumbled through the forest watching each step as I took it.
There had been no sound save the crackling of my feet upon the dry, dying leaves and the occasional flap of wings of a feathered child of the wild, yet suddenly there was a great crackling all about among the trees, and lanthay appeared as though from nowhere, their riders guiding them to circle around me. I whirled about, seeking a means through their ranks yet finding none, my heart beating wildly, and then my gaze fell upon him who led the riders. Ceralt sat his lanthay almost negligently, his eyes looking down upon me where I stood, my feet spread wide, my hand groping for a sword which was not to be found. No word was spoken by any of the males, and I felt their eyes upon me as well. I knew not how they had found me so quickly, yet it mattered not. Had I been beneath the protection of Mida, they would not have found me at all. Once again I had erred in thinking Mida at last pleased with her warrior, and once again would Mida show her anger at my foolishness. I kept my eyes from moving longingly to the south and merely folded my arms beneath my life sign, the bitterness of my failure held well within my soul. Ceralt had once more captured me, and he would be the instrument of Mida’s displeasure.
Ceralt did not pause long enough in his study of me for the cold to become unbearable. He stirred upon his lanthay, his face difficult to see in the gathering darkness, and then he urged his mount forward till he stood beside me to the right. Again he looked down upon me where I stood, my hair blowing slightly in the nearly still wind, and he shook his head, as though in wonder.
“Truly had I begun to doubt,” said he, though more to himself than aloud. “The Snows, through Lialt, directed me to be here this fey, awaiting we knew not what. Now do I see the importance of the matter, and give thanks to the Serene Oneness that I obeyed without reluctance.” Then he straightened upon his lanthay, and his voice no longer held the odd, musing quality it had had. It sharpened, and a frown took seat upon his features. “What do you do so far from the village, wench?” he demanded in a growl. “By whose permission do you walk these woods alone?”
His anger had begun to grow, yet I made no answer to his questions for his previous words had startled me. The males had lain in wait in the woods at the direction of—something—from the white land, serving a presence they knew naught of. Well did I remember the feel of the presence in the white land, and well did I know that the presence was not Mida. It had not, then, been by Mida’s will that I was once more captured, and therefore was I free to attempt resistance. Ceralt’s lanthay stood beside me, dancing about in the manner of a high-strung beast, filled with much restlessness and the urge to do. No sooner had I come to the knowledge that it was not Mida’s hand which was before my path, than I raised my voice in the Hosta war cry, jumping toward the lanthay and clapping my hands sharply. The beast exploded from me in great confusion, a scream of its own filling the air as it nearly unseated Ceralt, yet I waited no longer to see more. With my blood racing about inside me, I circled Ceralt’s lanthay and made for the gap in the ring his coming forward had produced, and was through and running before the other males knew aught was about. The fur leg-wrappings dragged at my feet, slowing my pace, my breath came in great gasps which threatened to open my chest, leafless branches slapped and flew at me trying to take my sight, yet I ran on through the gloom of coming darkness, determined to win my freedom. A vast ache had begun in my body, attempting to take the strength from my limbs, causing sweat to form upon my forehead, beneath my breasts, in my armpits. Ahead of me was thicker woods, no trail however small, no more than bare trees standing one upon the other. Could I but reach the tangle of their presence, no lanthay might take its great bulk through behind me. I pounded for it, taking no note of the branches which tore at the leather of my covering and plucked at my flying hair, stumbling in my haste, yet where I might once have outrun a lanthay, I could no longer do so. A great toll had been taken by the Silla spears, and Ceralt, upon his lanthay, thundered up beside me, his left arm reaching down to circle my waist. Though I struggled and struck out at him, I was nevertheless drawn to the lanthay’s back before him, thrown belly down across the leather band which girded the beast, and held in such a position by Ceralt’s right fist in my hair. Cold, hard earth was thrown in my face by the lanthay’s slowing, and then we turned about and rejoined the others of the males.
The return ride to the village was a great humiliation. The males had laughed to see me belly down before Ceralt, my hair falling against his lanthay’s leg, a fistful of it still in Ceralt’s possession. The mount’s fur caressed my cheek where it lay, yet sight of Ceralt’s leg, so near to my face, diminished whatever pleasure might have come from the touch. I fought the grip which kept me prisoner before a male; however success was not meant to be mine. Ceralt’s fist closed tighter still, nearly pulling the hair from my head, and my struggle did no more than take whatever strength remained to me. Still was I held as I had been, the cold blowing down the back of my covering, the sweat turning chill upon my body, the smell of lanthay and male strong in my nostrils. The ground moved past in a blur below me, easily covered by the lanthay’s rapid, relaxed pace, and I buried my own fists in the lanthay’s fur, for the first time fearful upon a beast. No more than Ceralt’s hand kept me from sliding from the beast to the ground, and never before had I been done so, placed before a male as his possession and prize. The head of the lanthay turned to sniff my arm in curiosity, and miserably I buried my face in its side, hearing the laughter and banter of the males all about, yet unable to face it.
All too soon was the village again before us, the lighted squares of its dwellings’ windows floating in the darkness. Ceralt and the others rode to my dwelling and halted, the form of Lialt appearing out of the darkness as the lanthay came to a stop. Ceralt released my hair and slid from the lanthay with ease, then reached up and, taking me by the waist, placed me upon the ground beside him. No sooner had my feet been firmly placed upon the ground, than Ceralt’s fist was again in my hair. In such a manner was I taken before Lialt, who frowned down upon me in great anger.
I know not how you found her, brother,” said he to Ceralt, “yet surely must the Serene Oneness have intervened. Upon finding her gone, I searched for her trail, yet it disappeared from before my eyes as though she had grown wings and flown.”
“All would have had little success in following her,” said Ceralt, giving my head a sharp shake by the hair. His anger was cold and his voice displeased, and nearly did I cry out from the shake. “The wench knows the forests and the means to hide her track better than most hunters,” said he to an even more deeply frowning Lialt. “She would have been lost to me if not for your timely reading of the Snows.”
“Ah!” breathed Lialt, pleasure replacing the frown upon his features. “Her flight was then meant to be, and her recapture as well. Perhaps the episode was meant as a lesson for her, to show her the folly of disobedience.”
“Perhaps,” agreed Ceralt, turning my head so that I must look up at him. “Has a lesson in obedience been taught you, wench?”