“I would have thought the Hosta to be less of a problem with Jalav removed,” Ceralt remarked, rising from the furs to fetch the skin of near-renth and offer it first to Telion. Telion took the skin and drank from it as Ceralt reseated himself, then passed the skin back with a grunt.
“It is Jalav’s removal which has caused the most difficulties,” Telion said, shaking his head. “The wenches were wild with fury when Galiose had her lashed, yet their rage turned insane when Galiose was unable to produce her and prove that she still lived. The men who had claimed them found controlling them impossible short of tying them hand and foot, and such a state tends to make normal life unwieldy. Many of the Hosta were punished without mercy, yet they continued to rage and resist. At last, the men demanded that Galiose produce Jalav to calm the fury of the other females, and Galiose promised to do so. When Jalav escaped over the walls, Galiose raged for feyd, yet it all came to naught. The Hosta believed that Jalav was no more, spat upon the men who swore she had escaped, and turned their fury upon the Silla wenches, whose arrival had begun the entire thing. At the time of my departure, two Hosta and seven Silla were in need of Phanisar’s skills in healing, and the rest had been confined without exception to their respective places of dwelling.”
“And what of Larid?” Ceralt asked, as he returned the skin to Telion. “She could not have accompanied you, I know, and I thought you might have chosen to remain with her.”
“I thought long upon the decision I made,” Telion nodded, his eyes sad, “yet I could come to no other conclusion. Larid carries my child within her, and I will not have my child born a slave to strangers. Had I remained with Larid, I would have ultimately lost her, and the child as well. I know not how I know this, yet the conviction is strong within me, too strong to be ignored.” He paused to drink deeply from the skin, then regarded Ceralt again. “In any event, Larid now resides in Nidisar’s house, furious with me for riding off, and furious with Nidisar for continuing with Fayan’s punishment. Fayan now heartily regrets having asked for Nidisar as a slave, and grows wide-eyed if he so much as glances at her. I doubt that it will be much longer before she carries Nidisar’s child as Larid carries mine.”
“Nidisar was too patient with that golden-haired wench,” Ceralt observed, a grinning. “Had he refused to allow her coldness with him, he would not have ended her slave, however briefly. Savage wenches look upon gentleness as weakness, and are quick to do as they please in the face of it.”
“Perhaps,” Telion agreed with a shrug. “Larid has never had more than a hiding from me, yet she has learned that there are times she must obey me. She raged and screamed when I left her with Nidisar, yet she made no attempt to disobey my wishes, and bid me farewell with a heat I will not soon forget.” He, too, grinned well, and moved his eyes to me. “Once a man has tasted a female warrior, other females fade from his memory forever. I enjoy much heat in a woman, and a Midanna’s heat is easily aroused and not soon quenched. Do you find it the same, Ceralt?”
“Without a doubt.” Ceralt laughed in agreement, his light eyes glinting in the fire’s glow. The two males each looked upon me, attempting to humiliate me with their laughter, and I felt my lips tighten with hate even as my blood began to stir. Males cared naught for what was denied a Hosta, so long as their needs were seen to.
“I believe I see traces of the old flames in her lovely eyes,” Telion chuckled, enjoying my anger. “She was ever one to blaze up in fury, and likely will continue so forever.”
“She will not blaze up in fury,” Ceralt said, rising again from the lenga pelt. “She will remain docile and obedient, for she is allowed nothing more. Telion, my friend, there are many things I must see to before the journey may be begun. Rest yourself here, for you are to share my halyar, and make free with whatever you find here. You have been many feyd upon the trail, and your needs cannot have been seen to. I shall not return till very late, therefore Jalav’s use is yours through the darkness. Jalav, serve him and obey him. Telion, we shall speak again come the new light.”
In just so casual a manner was I given to Telion, and then Ceralt took his body furs and left, giving me not so much as a single glance. I gazed at the wooden pot in my hands, wishing it were possible to break the thing to bits, hating as I had never hated in my entire life. Because of Ceralt, I knelt a slave in a male’s dwelling, bereft of all I had ever earned, no more than a possession to be handed about to others, plagued by a twisted need which turned me helpless to his touch. Once I had wondered at the possibility of one being so cruel as to take another’s honor and yet fail to take their life as well, yet I wondered no longer. Males called this cruelty mercy, and termed it an honorable thing. So much for the honor of males.
“Jalav.” Telion spoke from beside me, so close that my head jerked in surprise over not having heard him approach. He crouched before me, his light eyes fully disturbed, and his large hands forced the wooden pot from my fingers, ending my attempts at its destruction. He threw the pot to one side, and sought to draw me closer to him, yet I could not bear the thought of his hands upon me. He would take me as the others had, shaming me in my weakness, showing me again that I was naught when beneath a male. I snarled and fought his arms as a hadat fights the ropes of a trap, yet he would not free me, nor allow me to free myself. Many reckid I fought him, till I had neither strength nor breath left to call upon, and then he held me still against his chest, stroking my hair while making soothing, meaningless noises. He made no attempt to put me to my back, and I could not understand what thing he sought.
“Jalav, calm yourself,” he murmured, his hand still astroke of my hair. The cloth of his body covering was now unfamiliar to me, yet it seemed much softer and warmer than the leather I had been held to of late. My cheek sought more of the warmth, my body relaxed with a shudder, and Telion’s arms tightened even further, yet I knelt so for no more than a moment before recalling that this was a male who held me. Males were the enemies of warriors, those who sought the destruction of warriors, those who coveted a warrior’s freedom. Males were those who took a warrior’s pride, but not her life. The recollection stiffened my body once more, and Telion released me so that he might look closely upon me.
“What occurs here, wench?” he demanded, his fingers hard upon my arms. “What has come to pass between Ceralt and yourself that you are no longer as you were?”
He gazed upon me soberly, awaiting a reply, his red-gold hair of a male warrior’s length disarranged in its leather binding from my struggles. I looked up at him, envying the limitless strength of his large, hard form, hating the knowledge that I might easily be bested by him, and found no reply that might be spoken.
“Answer me!” he snapped, shaking me somewhat. “By what means are you bound so to Ceralt?”
Almost did I sneer at such a question. Was I to inform him of the nature of the chains another male had upon me so that he, too, might attempt their use? Ceralt would inform him soon enough, and there was no need for me to make the time shorter. Telion looked down upon me, and nodded in annoyance.
“So your stubbornness, at least, remains intact,” he growled, displeasure strong within him. “If you will not speak to me, there is little I may do other than accept Ceralt’s offer. Remove your garment and present yourself to me.”
He released my arms then and rose from his crouch, then returned to the lenga pelt upon which he had been sitting. The firelight flickered from the hearth as I slowly rose to my feet, looking away from the male and his anger. Was I to believe that he had had no interest in my use before the anger had touched him? Such was foolishness, for Telion had used me before, glorying in that which he had done to me. Much hate had he shown when, as sthuvad to my clan, he had been refused the honor of use by the war leader, and his desire for me had ever been great. Why he wished such a belief in me I knew not, yet his purposes had not been accomplished. I removed the belt of copper and loosened the garment’s ties, then drew the confining thing off over my head and dropped it to the floor to one side of the hearth. My life sign, swinging between my breasts as ever it had done since first I had become a warrior, took my attention, and after a brief hesitation, I grasped it in my fist and tore the leather from about my neck. There was little reason left for its presence, and Midanna do not believe in useless adornments. I dropped the life sign beside the garment which I so despised, and turned then to face the male who awaited me.