8
The circle of choice—and a vow is stolen
Thought returned with the opening of my eyes, yet I lay still for many reckid, unwilling to move. Clearly, in my mind’s eye, lay the memory of the previous darkness, and my bitterness and humiliation were great. I turned my head in the lenga fur to gaze at the fire, feeling no comfort from the softness beneath my cheek and upon my body. No longer was the leather garment upon me, yet this, too, was an infuriating cause for shame. Without doubt, Ceralt and Lialt had removed the garment from me, perhaps even amusing themselves with my unknowing body. Some small soreness remained from the touch of Ceralt’s leather, and I closed my eyes, tasting the sourness of confusion unrelieved. Many times had Ceralt done me so, giving me humiliation and pain, yet never before had he been so firm in his decision, so hard with the leather. Most often I had felt that he beat me reluctantly, wishing the need for it were unnecessary, yet this time there had been much of willingness in his strokes, and my flesh twinged in memory of such willingness to give me punishment. Once before had he beaten me so, with willingness, using naught save his hand, the occasion being the time I had lured the hunting hadat to me to keep it from being slain by city males. At that time he had told me that I was never to do again as I had done with the hadat, and I had known then that I could not gainsay him in the matter, that his word had been as the word of Mida. Strange did it seem that the word of a male might be likened to the word of Mida. I drew my hands below my chin so that I might lean upon them. Was there ever a time that a male must be heeded as a warrior would heed the will of Mida? Would there be a time when I, myself, would find the need to obey Ceralt as I now obeyed none save Mida? I shook my head angrily, dismissing the thought, yet it continued to plague me. How often would I find punishment and humiliation at the hands of the male? How long before I might ride free of his demands and disapproval?
A fair amount of time had passed before it came to me that rain covered the dwelling’s windows, yet the rain was of a sort which I had never seen before. Hard as stones did the rain seem, clattering upon the wooden frames of the windows and upon the roof as well. Dim was the dwelling even with the firelight, and few would be the folk about on such a fey. The thought at first caused little interest in me, then I cursed myself for a fool. On such a fey might escape be more than possible, my movements hidden beneath the tears of Mida. On the instant did I decide to make the attempt, and quickly sat up to throw the covering lenga pelt from me—only to find that which I had not earlier felt. A slim circle of metal held firmly to my left ankle, three links then leading to a bolt set newly in the floor. In anger, I reached over and tugged at the bolted links, yet my ankle remained held in the circle of metal as though there was naught which might free it. In fury, I pulled harder yet, then beat impotently at that which sealed my captivity. Ceralt had done this, had again set me in chains, and I would have gone for the eyes of the male had he been within reach! Much did I throw myself about in rage, shouting imprecations down upon Ceralt’s head, yet my struggles were to no avail. Chained did Ceralt wish me, and chained would I remain till he saw fit to free me.
In misery, I sat myself upon the lenga pelt, my knees drawn up to my chin, my arms wrapped about them, my hair partly beneath me, partly over my shoulder. I now felt the weight and inflexibility of the metal, holding me where I least wished to be. The wind blew the stonelike rain against the walls and windows of the dwelling, now softly, now with a force like that of charging warriors, and the warmth of the fire seemed to do little for the chill of the room. I sat so for no more than a handful of reckid, and then the door opened and closed quickly, admitting a dripping wet Tarla. The female wore her usual coverings, yet another covering had been added as well. Upon her upper body were furs, much like the leg wrappings, yet these furs covered her body to her waist including her arms, then rose from her collar to cover her head as well. No more than her face showed from the midst of them, and as quickly as the door closed behind her, she drew off the body furs, shook the water from them, then hung them upon a wall peg. The leg wrappings followed the body covering, also shaken and stood by the wall, and then the female turned to me, a pleasant smile of greeting upon her face.
“How do you fare upon this new fey, Jalav?” said she, her tone light as she pushed at her hair with one hand. “Though the fey starts poorly, it is sure to improve with the coming of darkness. ”
She looked down at me where I sat, her large eyes sparkling merrily, a delighted laugh bubbling in her tone. With the metal fast about my ankle, I saw little reason for such gaiety and less for pretending to pleasantness. I looked upon her with the coldness a war leader showed for an erring warrior, yet this, too, seemed to amuse her.
“Now, now, none of that!” she laughed, waving a finger in mock severity. “You must not frown at all this fey, for frowns put lines in the loveliest of faces. As soon as you have eaten your falum, we shall brush and comb your hair to shining.”
She then took herself to the fireplace and began preparing falum, humming softly as she worked. Without doubt she had seen that I was chained, yet she smiled and laughed and hummed as though in the best of spirits. I moved my eyes to follow her actions, frowning at such inexplicable behavior. Perhaps her wits had been taken by Mida, and she no longer knew what she was about. If that were the case, I would be kind to her, for one must always be kind to those who are bereft.
In a short while the falum was heated, and Tarla placed some in a pot, then brought the pot to where I sat. The odor of the cooking falum had caused my appetite to stir, yet captivity had ever proven itself an excellent curb to the urge to feed. I had no wish for the falum, and turned my face from Tarla’s offering hands.
“Take the falum, Jalav,” said Tarla softly, an odd hint of strength to her tone as she knelt before me. “You ate poorly upon the fey previous, therefore shall I see you well fed this fey. ”
“Shall you indeed,” said I, turning again to regard her. “I had thought I had made it plain that I no longer wished your presence. ”