“So they then give over battle,” Ceralt snorted, removing his hand from me as he sat up and crossed his legs before him. His eyes were angry now, and he tossed his head impatiently. “And if they do not survive the last battle they have allowed themselves?” he demanded. “The child within then dies as they do! And to go even further, how many are slain before there is aught within them? There are few men to see to the women in your lands, and rarer yet is the man who is allowed to decide which of the women will bear his seed. Should a warrior woman love battle too greatly, she need only refrain from using a man to remain childless. In our lands, such a woman’s foolishness is not tolerated. If she possesses qualities which men desire, she is bred whether she wishes to be or not. Upon such a thing does survival of the race depend, and women cannot be trusted with the decision. Too many fear to bear the children of men, so the decision must be made for them.”
“Warriors do not fear males!” I hissed, beginning to sit up. “It is a warrior’s decision whether or not she will use a particular male, and there is no fear involved!”
“So say you!” he retorted, pushing me flat again. “And I say that there is deep fear within the woman who refuses to bear a man’s child! Do you fear that you will not survive, Jalav, or is the fear an entirely different one? A woman who is given a man’s child is one who has been possessed by him in her entirety, one who has been made to bow to his mastery. Should she have mastered him, he would bear her child. I think the root of your problem lies in the fact that you have never been bested in battle. You have never been taught the value of submission to those stronger than you, and such is not the way of survival.”
“I have survived!” I snapped, struggling against the hand at my throat which now held me down. “Many have come forward upon the field of battle, claiming to be stronger, yet none have been able to stand against me! Submission is for slaves, not for those who would lead!”
“And you wish to lead,” he murmured, calmly taking in my struggles beneath the strength of his hand. “There is no shame to be found in wishing to lead, yet one must first know where he is leading, else all those who follow are as doomed as the leader. You now lead blindly and to no purpose, yet perhaps the matter may be rectified.” Till then he had spoken as though to himself, yet with the final words he straightened himself and hardened his gaze upon me.
“Cease this useless motion!” he commanded, tightening his grip upon my throat. “Will you never learn the futility of testing your strength with me? I am now going to dress, but you must first be punished for your earlier insolence. Sit up and obey me as though I possessed your sworn word.”
At reminder of my vows I ceased struggling, and his hand came away from my throat. Bitterly, I raised myself to sitting upon the lenga pelt, knowing not what he would do, yet knowing that my body deserved whatever pain he brought to it. Come the leather or the lash, an unwarrior-like hunger had invited the thing, and Jalav must now face what her weakness had wrought. Truly were the ways of the Midanna wise, to allow no males among them, save through sthuvad use.
“I do not care for the manner in which you sit,” said Ceralt, studying the cross-legged position I had taken. “The posture is ungraceful, hiding the lines of a woman’s body. Place yourself upon your knees, varaina.”
I bristled at the name he again called me by, yet there was little I might do other than obey him. Brushing my hair well back from my arms, I knelt where I had formerly sat, and Ceralt nodded thoughtfully.
“Better,” he conceded, still unsatisfied. “Yet you still seem too well prepared to defend yourself. A woman must know her vulnerability before men before she may learn submission. Reach back and grasp your ankles, and do not release them.”
I wished to snarl at such direction, yet the doing would have been idle. I reached back beneath my hair which now fell about my feet, and grasped my ankles from within as I had been bidden. My hands now rested between thighs and ankles, held easily in place by my body weight as I sat upon my heels. Ceralt rose from his place to crouch before me, and his hands took my thighs and moved them widely apart.
“This position is more to my liking,” said he, a grin beginning as he gazed upon me. His body, so broad and hard, rose before me even in a crouch, and suddenly the knowledge struck me more fully than it had before. This wide-chested male, whose arms were nearly the size of my thighs, might use me whenever he wished, his former concern for my comfort no longer present. How might I, weaponless and alone, aid myself against his will? I knelt before him, my breasts thrust forward, my thighs invitingly open to his sight and touch, and a trembling prepared to claim me that I might not even draw away. In misery, my eyes sought his face, and he chuckled when our gaze met.
“You do not care for being placed so?” he asked, his hand moving to my face. “Such is a great pity, for this is the position you will take whenever I require it of you. Your insolence brought this upon you, little savage, and I would have you consider a thing: should we ever face one another with swords as you so earnestly requested, I will not take your life. I will rather take your sword from you and kneel you so before all of your wenches, and make you beg your use. They are sure to find the sight most entertaining.”
I looked upon him with great horror, my mouth falling open, yet he did no more than laugh at my plight. Those without souls have no concept of honor, yet would even a male do such a thing? Many lives had I taken in my kalod as a warrior, yet never had I so shamed another, nor even conceived of the possibility. Vile and dishonorable are the males of the cities, and I vowed within that I would never so lose myself to the touch of a male. Sooner the touch of an edge to one’s throat, and a slow beginning upon the journey to Mida’s realm.
“You now seem determined,” mused Ceralt, a grin still upon him though his light eyes glinted. “Perhaps you feel yourself able to resist me. If such is the case, look here.”
Without volition, my eyes followed his hand as it left my face and moved lower, his second hand joining the first at my breasts. He did no more than brush at them before taking my life sign into his hands, yet my skin burned hot where he had touched, as though I had been struck. He held my life sign for a moment, his thumbs rubbing at the texture of it, and then he placed it against my skin, his fingers tracing the shape of the hadat upon me. My breathing had begun to grow rapid and uneven, and I was unable to move my eyes from his hands even as my limbs began to tremble. I heard his chuckle as though from a great distance, yet watched with unusual clarity as his fingers traced a slow path from my life sign, down my belly to my thighs. My breathing now grew wilder still, yet his hands did not remain upon the tops of my thighs. To the sides they went, beginning at my knees, and then singly, slowly, began the ascent. I writhed where I knelt, unable to free my hands to stop him, knowing that even had my hands been freed, I could not have stopped him. My body cried out for him to hurry, my mind cried out for him to leave me be, yet both were overcome when my voice cried out at his touch upon my heat. My need was great then, yet the soreness he had brought upon me caused my eyes to close and my head to throw itself back in misery, wishing his touch with every fiber of my being, shrinking from his touch lest further pain attend me. I moaned and tossed my head about, shamed through the needs of my own body, then gasped as his fingers entered me to probe gently at my pain.
“Have I used you too far, little savage?” came Ceralt’s voice as I sobbed without tears at his testing. “Though it was my intention to impress you, I had not thought it possible to accomplish this. I now find myself pleased.”
I forced my eyes to look upon him, and he regarded me in turn, the glint strong in his eyes. His fingers had not left me, and I knelt before him in great need and much pain, biting back the plea that he use me and ease some part of my suffering. His fingers moved again and I stiffened with a moan, yet no more than satisfaction showed itself upon his face.