When Tarla at last returned the pot to the shelf, we left the inner room for the outer. What had begun as extreme heat was now a good deal cooler, and I hurriedly donned my garments to keep the chill from me. My hair remained damp, yet its dampness did not penetrate the leather of my full body garment even though it hung between that and the fur outer garment. When Tarla and I were completely clad, we left the dwelling and returned toward Ceralt’s dwelling. I saw little of the waning fey, for my eyes found the hardened ground beneath my feet, and took great interest in the steps I took. In such a manner was I able to refrain from thinking upon the sharp cold which slapped at my face and hands, and also of what I might eventually become at the hands of Ceralt.
Upon reaching Ceralt’s dwelling, I was prepared to enter the door, yet Tarla’s hand reached before me to take a small, white square which was held in place by the door. The square contained black strokes, much like that which Ceralt had once called “writing,” and Tarla looked upon it as though the strokes had meaning for her, then her eyes found mine.
“Ceralt wishes you to await him within,” said she, a small frown at her brow. “I am not to remain with you, though I know not why this is. You are also to prepare the meat which is left for you upon the table by the window, for Ceralt shall wish to eat when he returns. Had I been allowed within, I would have assisted you with the meat, yet I am not allowed within.” She shook her head, the frown deepening, then dismissed the matter with a sigh. “Ah well, perhaps I shall be allowed to visit with you upon the new fey. I shall certainly attempt it. Do not despair, Jalav. All shall prove to be for the best.”
Her hand had come to my shoulder in support of the look of sympathy upon her face, yet I found myself unable to share her beliefs. That all would prove for the best seemed highly doubtful, for Mida had turned her back upon her warrior. I found something of a smile of encouragement to give the child, then entered the dwelling alone, closing the sight of the lifeless land without as I closed the door.
A large cut of meat indeed awaited me upon the platform by the window, and once I had rid myself of body and leg furs, I unwrapped it from its sacking and carried it to the fire. Cut wood lay neatly piled to the right of the stone hearth, and it took no more than a few lengths to see the fire grow stronger and brighter. When once the blaze had settled itself, I placed the meat upon the metal spit and suspended it above the fire, high enough to need no more than occasional turning. With this done, I sat upon the wooden floor with my back to the fire, seeking to dry the dampness from my hair with the warmth of the blaze. I disliked having damp hair in that lifeless land, for dampness seemed to draw the very chill of the air, the gray of the skies, the hardness of the ground. It was a thing one did well to avoid, if one were able.
I stretched out upon my side upon the wood of the floor, seeing the emptiness of the dwelling before me. The dwelling was not as mine had been, unadorned and untenanted save for the prisoner it held, yet it was empty of all life save mine, which was not the life which was meant to fill it. The dwelling was Ceralt’s, its walls and floors bedecked according to his preferences, and I merely another adornment, to await his return with the rest, unable to bring true life to the dwelling by my presence alone. It is thought by Midanna that a dwelling takes on a good deal of the likeness of the person inhabiting it, which would account for the uneasiness one feels when entering the dwelling of another. It is much like attempting to enter the body of another, a body which was not meant to be yours. Ceralt’s dwelling discounted me as a stranger, allowing me entrance only by cause of the fact that Ceralt wished it so. It did not welcome me as my Hosta home tent had ever done, and I rested my cheek upon the leather which covered my arm, seeking to bring to mind memory of my home tent. I sought for the memories a long time, yet found my home tent too far behind me to be easily brought forth.
Full dark had descended before Ceralt’s return, and he did not return alone. I had just swung the spitted meat away from the fire, deeming it overdone enough to suit even the taste of a city male, when the door opened to admit Ceralt and Lialt. The two males entered quickly, a blast of icy wind showing cause for their haste, and just as quickly removed their fur body coverings, hanging them upon the wall before coming toward the fire. I stood with a metal prong in my hand, having just used it to move the spit, and felt the despair welling within me at my body’s greeting to Ceralt’s presence. Truly had I become enslaved to him, to the dark-haired, light-eyed broadness of him, and I turned away so that he might not see the hunger for him in my eyes.
“It seems we have returned precisely on time, Lialt,” said he as he reached the tire. “The terlim is done and awaiting our teeth, therefore let us make haste to partake of it.”
“It seems a trifle rare,” judged Lialt, halting beside Ceralt to examine the meat, “yet I find myself hungry enough to eat an entire terlim, well done or entirely raw. At that, it is more than I had expected. Have you resorted to sorcery, brother, to elicit such obedience from her?”
“Not at all, brother,” Ceralt laughed, turning from the meat to gaze upon me. “Jalav is no more than a wench, and I am the man who was meant to tame her. She will obey me now without question, for she is beginning to learn her vulnerability before men. Is this not so, Jalav?”
The heavy enjoyment in his tone and words caused me to close my eyes, yet I knew that my hand was white about the prong of metal I held. That he would give me such shame before another should not have been unexpected, yet even so, I found that I could not reply to him.
“She does not deny it,” Lialt observed in amusement, “yet I would sooner deal with the terlim and save discussion for later. Are we to be served, brother?”
“Indeed,” said Ceralt, and his hand came to my face. When I opened my eyes to regard him, he took two squares of wood from above the hearth. “Place the meat upon the platters, Jalav,” he directed, handing the wooden squares to me, “and bring the entire thing to me with two forks as well. I shall then direct you further.”
He and Lialt then moved away from the fire, giving me free access to the spitted meat. I used the prong of metal I held to force the meat from the spit onto the top square of wood, all the while refusing to feel the tingling which his hand upon my face had caused. Again I recalled the many times males had served me in the Hosta home tents, and a seething anger began that Ceralt would demand the same service of me. My now-dry hair blew about my arms from the sharpness of my movements, yet I nevertheless found myself beside Ceralt, the meat and wooden squares and metal prongs all fetched as he had ordered. He and Lialt had taken seat opposite one another upon lenga pelts, no more than a pace apart, and they shared a skin of near-renth between them. They sat near to the fire and had not lit any of the flames within boxes upon the walls, and Ceralt looked up at me as I offered the meat and such.