“Do you recall our first meeting, wench?” he asked, his voice so soft that I shivered. “The first fey you kept me for yourself alone, yet after that I was given over to your-warriors. Do you know the fate of a man at their hands?”
His eyes had grown so hard with memory that I knew not what he might be about. No longer could I bear his touch, and wished no more than to thrust his hand from me. I began to rise from my heels to free my hands, yet the sharpness of his tone froze me in place.
“Be still!” he snapped, an icy wildness having entered his eyes. “You may not move till I release you! I asked you, wench, do you know the fate of a man bound before savage females?”
His fingers probed so deeply now that I closed my eyes again, nearly lost between screaming need and shrieking pain. Sweat stood out all over me, causing my body to shine in his sight, yet I suddenly knew that his eyes saw another sight, one which came to me in the darkness beneath my lids.
“I was bound wrist and ankle to stakes in the ground,” said Ceralt, bitterness causing his voice to choke. “My severed clothing was then brushed aside, and I lay bare to the laughter of the females who stood about me. I fought the leather they had bound me with till my wrists and ankles were near to bleeding, yet I could not free myself, nor could I keep from swallowing too much of that Sigurr’s brew which my men had also had forced upon them. Then the females put their swords aside and crouched about me, waiting for the brew to do its evil work.”
I felt his body move upon the lenga pelt, and then his fist was tight within my hair, forcing my head even farther back, his other hand as deep within my body. I moaned aloud as he did this, not only from the pain he gave, but also from the fury of his memories. Harsh was his breathing not far from my ear, and I kept my eyes tight closed lest I look upon what welled within him and cry out from the sight.
“In no more than a matter of reckid, my body was no longer mine,” growled Ceralt, far too close to where I knelt. “I looked upon the females about me, saw their bare, impudent breasts, the softness of their bodies, and fought to reach them with my manhood. I burned, Jalav, burned as I never had before, aching with my need and nearly splitting asunder. The females laughed again, that sneering, insulting laughter piercing to my very pride, and then one of them rose from her crouch and approached me. No more than a child was she, barely nubile and with breasts too large for her frame, yet she placed her hand upon me and laughed at my efforts to reach her. I would have torn her apart in the depths of my need, yet I was unable to reach her! And then she lifted up that bit of skirting done in Hosta green and straddled me, allowing no more of my manhood within her than suited her pleasure. Slowly did she take her pleasure, slowly driving me insane, and when my stream burst forth to fill her well, she moved from it, and laughed again to see me cover myself and the ground. No release had I found in spilling my seed, instead the fire burned higher and then another took the place of the first, and then another and another till I could do no more than shout and curse and demand the surcease of death! No surcease did I find till all had used me to their will, and with the waning of the drug came a pain the likes of which I had never known. My manhood seemed a thing apart and truly aflame, and I heard the moans of my men even above my own. That, Jalav, was what I found at the hands of your females. I had thought to forgive you your savagery, excuse the necessity of that which you did, yet I now find myself unable to do so. Do you ache from my use, Jalav? Shall I tell you how pleased I am? I took no more than a single swallow of that which aids a man in impressing a stubborn woman, yet I now wish I had had access to that brew once given me at your orders. Your ache would be considerably greater.”
He released my hair with a final shake, and sharply pulled his fingers from me, leaving me to kneel untouched by anything other than what had just transpired. I shook from the venom of his narrative, from the heat risen within me, from the pain of many things, and knew naught of what occurred about me save an occasional scrape till the sound of footsteps came, approaching the door. Once there, the voice of Ceralt came again.
“Remain exactly as you are till I return, Jalav,” said he, his voice no longer uncontrolled. “When I return, you shall follow me to my halyar.”
No more than those few words did he speak, and then he was gone, the sound of the closing door preceded by a gust of colder air. I shivered more deeply at the touch of it upon my skin. My eyes remained closed to the sights of the world, yet my inner eye insisted upon viewing sights which were long past, sights which brought even greater pain upon me. Ceralt, he upon whom I could not look without a strange weakness taking me, was no longer the Ceralt I had known. That Ceralt had been strong and fine, humor warming his light eyes, concern creasing his brow beneath the lock of dark hair, a gentleness often to be found in the touch of his hand. This Ceralt had been taken by—I knew not what—and the gentleness was gone as though it had never been. Again I threw my head about and cried out in the emptiness of the dwelling. I had not known how sthuvad use would touch him, by Mida do I swear this! Why, in the name of the final glory, had it not been so before?
My head fell forward upon my chest, and my hair came about my arms to cloak before me. I shifted very slightly where I knelt, yet little ease came to feet, hands or legs. I knelt as Ceralt had left me, open and bare to the sight of any who might come, and again my heat surged so high that my head tossed about and I moaned. Why had he not used me? Why had he left me kneeling so—and why did the memory of his sthuvad use burn so within him? He was male, and what else might a male expect save sthuvad use?
No longer was I able to bear shutting out sight of the world, therefore I opened my eyes to look miserably about. The dwelling was empty save for myself upon the lenga pelt, empty and dim despite the strengthening gray light from beyond the windows. My breathing was much too rapid, yet I could not calm it. His fingers had touched me, upon belly and thighs—I screamed madly, needing to tear at myself, unable to tear at myself even though neither chain nor leather touched me. He had touched me! Ceralt, I did not know! Ceralt, do not leave me so! Ceralt! I wept and moaned, writhing as I knelt, demanding answers from untenanted air. He had not been so changed when first he had found me, when I lay near dead from Silla spears. His gentleness had then been with him, yet now it was gone and bitterness and hatred had taken its place. What other purpose might males be put to if not sthuvad use? Did all males see it as he did, was this why they fought the leather and the drug? I gazed down at my opened thighs and shook, recalling the sight of his hand there. Why had he knelt me so, commanded to remain unmoving? What else is a warrior to do with a male? Ceralt!
I know not how long I knelt there in the dwelling yet the time then seemed to be measured in feyd. Brighter and brighter grew Mida’s light, more and more numb grew my hands and legs and feet. I shivered from the lack of a fire, yet a constant moisture crept from between my thighs. My body ached as though I had been hind upon a hard, fast trail, and my head hung down, bringing my hair forward to gather about my face. A throbbing had begun within me, and I knew not how it might be made to cease. A sound at the door brought my head up sharply, for it might have been any who entered, yet my eyes met Ceralt alone, upon his return. He gazed at me closely as he closed the door, then came to stand over me where I knelt. I sent my own gaze to the stained and well-worn lenga pelt beneath my knees, to see no more of him than the tops of his fur leg-wrappings.