“The water should be well heated,” said Tarla, removing the twistings of her hair as I placed my coverings beside hers. Tarla had the body of a young girl, sweet in its budding promise, yet she colored in embarrassment when I looked upon her, and averted her gaze. “I know,” she sighed, finishing with her hair and placing her hands before her. “I am naught when compared with you, and Lialt will find great disappointment when he brings me to his furs. I have seen him looking at your body, Jalav, and for some time he has not looked only upon your wounds, yet there is little I may do; The Serene Oneness has not seen fit to grant me your largesse.”
So miserable did the child suddenly seem, that I could not bear her sorrow. Finding pleasure in the sight of males was a curse to a warrior, yet Tarla was no warrior and never would be. Deliberately I approached her, and placed my hand upon her shoulder.
“Much would I be pleased to see your face when you find yourself mistaken,” said I with something of a laugh. “The bounty you speak of has not been withheld from you, it is merely slow in the coming, and even were it to fail to come at all, there is no accounting for the tastes of males. I recall a warrior of mine, made more in the image of male than female, who yet found herself greatly surprised when a sthuvad begged to remain with her. To him, her form was more pleasing than mine, though he often looked upon me with hunger. How may one know the thoughts of a male?”
Tarla once more lifted her large, dark eyes to mine, and great hope shone clearly therein. “Do you speak truly?” she asked, her hands yet held before her. “You do not seek to give false comfort?”
“I do indeed speak truly,” I answered, refraining from saying that among Midanna, one doubted the word of another only at swordpoint. The female meant no insult, and sought only to believe that which was so difficult for her to believe. Her face again took on the glow of happiness, and her hands fell from their shielding position.
“Oh, Jalav, I do so hope you are not mistaken.” She laughed. “I wish to give Lialt naught save happiness, and now it is possible that I may do so. Let us hurry now to the bathing water, for there is much to be done with you.”
Having spoken so, she then turned to a door which led farther within the dwelling. Beyond the door lay the balance of the dwelling yet it was floored no more than halfway across. Beyond the wood of the floor was water, held within the metal of a container fully half the size of the dwelling. Flames within boxes lit the room to sufficiency, replacing the light which was not permitted through the curtained windows, and many variously colored lengths of cloth lay about upon low wooden platforms and the floor itself. The inner room contained even greater heat than the outer room, yet the numbers of females who sat about upon the platforms or wet themselves within the water, seemed to feel naught of the closeness. Many of them looked about as we entered, and some called greetings to Tarla. Tarla, in turn, returned the greetings, then led me to the edge of the flooring.
“Into the water and soak, Jalav,” said she, placing her toes so that she might test the warmth of the water. “Ceralt wishes to see you softened for his arms, and he may no longer be denied. Your softness shall surely please him more this darkness than the last once we are done with you.”
“Softness has little to do with pleasing a male,” I murmured yet Tarla heard not for I had spoken very softly. I, too, placed my toes within the water, and was not surprised to find that it had been heated in the manner of the city folk. Often had I bathed in chill forest streams, yet such a practice seemed beyond the ken of those of cities and villages. I sighed in resignation and slid within the water, finding that it rose to my breasts when I stood erect. The water moved somewhat to the motions of the others within it, yet I stood quietly by the edge of the flooring, once more obedient to Ceralt’s will.
Tarla moved about among the females on the flooring, and following her, my eyes fell upon a female who was beginning to be heavy with child. As pleased as a warrior did the female seem to be, speaking and laughing with those who sat and stood about, and the sight of her recalled Ceralt’s words to me. The male had spoken of my fear of being with child, and had also said other things equally as foolish. To a male, it might seem that the getting of a child was a sign of his mastery, yet the simple truth was that a warrior might take the seed of a male without his let, and still bear the child he had no wish to plant. In such a way did the numbers of Midanna increase, and all warriors knew that it was expected by Mida that she bear her young for the greater glory of her clan. All warriors knew this—and knew as well that a war leader was denied such glory, for she had been chosen by Mida to lead the Midanna to war. One glory replaces another, yet I had once stood above a warrior who held her new-born daughter in her arms, seeing the love my warrior had felt for the tiny life at her breast. This, knowing the fruits of my own body, had been forbidden to me with the placing of the second silver ring, and no male could know the depth of my loss. In obedience to Mida, I had forsaken the life of my life, and Ceralt had mindlessly pratted on about fear and mastery. A warrior feared only the displeasure of Mida, and that I had already found in plentitude.
It seemed more than a hin that I stood within the water, my hair growing wetter and heavier, my skin beginning to grow wrinkled and ill-fitting. I had spoken often to Tarla, explaining my discomfort and my wish to leave the water, yet the young female had maintained that Ceralt wished me to remain as I was, heeding her advice. I knew not whether that was the truth of the matter, yet were it so, Ceralt might find himself regretting the decision. I wiped the sweat from my brow and face, and thought that when Ceralt next put his arms about me, I would likely fall to pieces from so long a submersion in water.
At last Tarla entered the water as well, and moved her shoulders about to wet them before approaching me. In her hand, she carried that which appeared to be congealed fat, lumpy and thick-looking, and of a yellowish color. As she approached me, she gestured toward my hair.
“Lean your head back so that all of it may be wet, Jalav,” she directed. “I shall use this soap upon it, and then you may emerge.”
I knew not what the term “soap” might be, yet it seemed the thing city folk used in place of cleansing sand. I had little wish to become further involved with city ways, but a protest seemed not worth the effort. I wet my hair further to the satisfaction of Tarla, then allowed the placing of this soap within it. Much did the substance foam like water at the foot of a falls, yet its presence burned one’s eyes and filled one’s ears so greatly that I gave thanks to Mida when I was at last able to rinse it from me. Tarla put a cloth within reach of my hands so that I might dry my burning eyes, and the first sight which met my gaze was the departure of two of the females who had been there since before my arrival. Those two females had much and lengthily looked upon me and whispered to one another, yet neither one had approached me as I had hoped they would. They two had been with the female Famira upon the fey she had chosen to confront me, the first fey I had attempted to move about the village unaided. Much had I wished them to repeat their challenge, for I was no longer wound-weakened and strengthless, yet they had not seen fit to do so. Undoubtedly Ceralt would have been angered if I had harmed them, yet I had not been forbidden by him to do such a thing, and no longer had I patience for the failings of city slave-women. Should they wish to approach me as Tarla did, all well and good. Should they wish to approach me in challenge, however, they would find to their sorrow that chained though I was, their safety was not thereby assured.