“No, Jalav,” said he, holding the piece away. “You kneel beside me as a proper wench, yet you have still not learned to obey properly. To continue with your lessons, you shall now eat from my hand.”
I drew my hand back and stared at him, recalling the time I had refused to feed from his hand, knowing that he, too, recalled the time. Sooner would I starve than feed from the hand of a male, and this Ceralt knew, else he would not have smiled as he did. I could not refuse his bidding, would not be allowed to refuse his bidding, and the hatred rose up so high that it touched all sides of the humiliation he forced upon me. This was the reaping of my body’s needs, to be constantly shamed at the hands of a male. Vile were the curses I heaped upon myself as his hand rose toward my lips, yet I was not able to refuse the terlim he placed in my mouth. The taste of him was also somehow upon the meat, yet I chewed without thought of what I did, for the shame was too great to consider. Slowly I chewed, tasting only bitterness, and Lialt’s amusement added much to my misery.
Ceralt saw that I fed upon each of the pieces he cut, no matter that the amount was greater than my hunger. He began by placing the meat within my mouth, yet soon he tired of raising his arm so high and bid me bend to where he held the bite. Shame upon shame and misery upon misery, I bent to his hand so that he might place the meat between my teeth, and soon it was necessary to put my hands upon his thigh so that I might reach his hand. I touched no more than his leather leg covering, yet his flesh burned my palms even through the leather, and the inadvertent touch of his arm to my breasts turned them hard and pointed as though the chill without had me in its grip. Again the moisture flowed from me, recalling to my body how it had been denied, and I choked upon the meat thrust into my mouth, consumed by a different hunger of the flesh. Ceralt kept his eyes upon me all the while, knowing the agony of the need he put upon me, grinning at the sight of my arousal as he fed me. His finger deliberately moved to touch the point of my breast, and I gagged upon the meat I chewed, attempting to swallow it and a groan as well. Lialt laughed as Ceralt chuckled, and my face burned red at their amusement, yet I could not halt the heat of my body, a heat which was Ceralt’s alone.
At last the meat was done, and the males shared the skin of near-renth to wash down the taste of their own meals. I knelt in the dimness beside Ceralt, wishing even the fire were not lit so that I might not be seen by the males. They had both much enjoyed the sight of me bending to be fed by Ceralt, my thighs locked together, my body quivering at the slightest touch of the male. I felt afire where I knelt, longing to moan aloud, yet kept this final shame from touching me. It was shame enough that I could not withstand the feel of Ceralt’s hands upon me; to show my enslavement to him without being touched would be far worse.
“What word have you had from Hannil, Ceralt?” asked Lialt, taking the skin which was passed to him. “Will he join us on the journey, or must we continue without his support?”
“He will join us,” replied Ceralt, reaching to where I knelt to stroke my arm. I shivered at the caress and longed to move away, yet his arm came about me and drew me face down upon his lap. He threw my hair from me and stroked my back next, and I closed my eyes and clung to the leg of him, lost in the touch of the male who had captured my soul. As his hand moved over the roundness of my bottom, I could no longer hold the moan within, and Ceralt and Lialt laughed at my torture and helplessness.
“She is a true varaina,” Ceralt murmured, both hands upon my thighs as his thumbs worked deeply within me. “See how she writhes to the mere touch of a hand, Lialt. See how she whimpers and quivers. Can there be any question as to what she is?”
“She is female,” Lialt replied, a shrug clear in his tone. “When a female is made to feel her heat, she is helpless to the touch of a man. Any female may be done so, should she fall to a man who will use her as she should be used. I have seen many a man come begging a woman’s favor, who, when rejected, declared the woman cold. Yet this same cold woman will writhe at another man’s feet, begging to be used, for this second man had not himself come begging, but demanding. Women seek for strength in a man, and bow to him eagerly when such strength is shown. This one requires more strength than others, yet she, too, is no more than a woman.”
“A woman with the needs of a lanthay mare,” Ceralt chuckled, pleased that he had reduced me to sobbing. I clung tightly to the leg of him, my eyes well shut, my hands aclutch upon his leather leg covering. So deeply did he touch me that I felt I must cry out, and when I did so, his laughter joined that of Lialt. No longer was I warrior before them, no longer was I able to defy them, yet so deep was my need that I cared not. I wished no more than use from Ceralt, yet I dared not speak of it lest he refuse me and increase my agony.
“Hannil has sent word that he and ten of his riders will join us,” Ceralt continued to the other male as I wept quietly. “He and his riders will bring their women, for he deems it unwise that there be only one woman among us. I have decided to follow his example and allow our riders to bring their wenches as well, for there will be ample time to leave them tented with two riders as guards before we enter the area of danger. Once our mission is complete, they may be taken up again upon the return journey. ”
“I shall seek among the Snows for an indication of the wisdom of such a course of action,” Lialt remarked, obviously disapproving. “I do not care for the thought of so many wenches so near to our goal, and even had I already drawn Tarla from the circle, she would not accompany us.”
“There is little else we may do,” Ceralt replied, somewhat disturbed. “Hannil must accompany us to give us the support of the villages beneath his sway. The Belsayah and the Neelarhi must be one in the crisis, and I may direct the doing of the Belsayah alone. My village chiefs all stand prepared to move against the coming strangers, yet we alone are not enough. Hannil’s Neelarhi must join us, yet they will not join us without the word of Hannil. Hannil has agreed to ride upon the journey, yet he desires the presence of his woman. It is not a question of allowing it, Lialt. It is only a question of seeing it made as safe as possible.”
“Lack of choice,” Lialt growled, moving upon his lenga pelt. “Always there is lack of choice! How may we succeed with so little choice of action left to us? Are we merely to be pawns of the Snows, doing its bidding? Never before has such a thing happened.”
“Never before have we been faced with such danger,” Ceralt replied, his deep concern reaching even through my misery. “The Snows have shown the strong possibility of our falling before the will of the strangers, and should such occur, our lives as we know them will cease to be. We must rejoice that there is choice of any sort, even so slender a choice as that before us, else we would be lost before battle was joined. Should we find the ally we seek, even those of the cities must stand with us. The catch is worth the hunt, Lialt, no matter the dangers we travel through. ”
“And no matter the losses we face?” asked Lialt, so quietly that the words nearly eluded me. I knew little other than the presence of Ceralt’s hand upon me, and cared naught for the sadness within the other male’s voice.
“One cannot grieve for the small loss when the greater is thereby averted,” said Ceralt, no sadness within his own voice. A dismissal of the unimportant rang therein, and then he laughed. “I would have you remember, brother, that we have as yet sustained no losses. Should the Serene Oneness guard our cause, perhaps there will be no losses.”
“Aye, perhaps,” Lialt sighed, and then there was a silence, broken only by my moans. I had attempted to turn toward the male who held me, yet he had not allowed it. His fingers upon my flesh had made it plain that I was not to move about other than by his will. Much did I yearn to take Ceralt and use him, yet the accursed strength of males made such a thing impossible, allowing Ceralt, instead, to impose his will upon me. In misery, I cried out to Mida in my heart, bowing to her rejection of me, yet begging for an end to the agony of life. I lay with my cheek upon Ceralt’s leg furs, tears of weakness in my eyes, arms about the leg I lay upon, my body writhing to the touch of the one who owned me, who had made me slave to his desire. My need was all consuming, yet he chose to increase it rather than ease it. I no longer knew the male to whom I was chained, yet he had grown to know me well.