A silence filled with no more than the crackling of a fire came to me first, and I knew not why such disappointment should grip me till I realized where I lay. Again I opened my eyes to the dimness of Ceralt’s dwelling, and the bitter knowledge that I still lived forced a moan from my lips. My throat ached from the fingers which had gripped it so tightly, yet the grip had not been tight enough. I was still in possession of the burden of my life, and the darkness of the raftered roof above me was no darker than my hopes of freedom.
“Why did you do such a thing?” Telion’s voice came, and then his face was before me as he leaned closer. “I nearly took your life as a result of that taunting and I fully believe that that was your purpose. Why do you wish to find death?”
I stared at his pained and bewildered face for a moment, then rolled to my side upon the lenga pelt, rose to my feet, and walked to the hearth to gaze down into the fire. Telion had once been the one male upon whom a warrior might look with the least displeasure, yet even he had taken my use with satisfaction, seeing naught amiss in placing me beneath him. His great hatred for his own captivity had not given him insight for my own hatred, for he felt it proper that a female be held by a male. How was one to speak to such a male, how might one describe the torture of imprisonment, when the one spoken to gave full approval to such imprisonment? I crouched before the fire and drew my hair about me, grasping its ends and holding them up before my bowed head. In all things I had been thoroughly shamed, yet even the final death was to be denied me. What more could be done to add to my tortures? What more?
11
A thing called snow—and the beginning of freedom
I woke to the light of the new fey, and found that I lay wrapped before the dying fire in the badly cured lenga pelt which Telion had worn upon his journey to the village. The dwelling was somewhat chilled, yet it seemed clear that someone had put wood upon the fire rather late to assure a continued fire through most of the darkness. I remembered naught of having fallen asleep, nor did I remember having wrapped myself within the pelt. Telion had not spoken to me again after I had left his side, but another had spoken to me as I lay in sleep, and my confusion was now greater than ever.
As had happened once before, Mida had walked my dreams, and had spoken to my sleeping mind. The golden glory of her had not so much awed me as given me pain, and I turned my head from her glowing brilliance, knowing I was not fit to look upon it.
“You have called to me much when I was not able to answer,” she said in the sweet tones I knew so well. “Have you no questions for me now that I stand before you?”
“There is only one,” I replied, keeping my face turned from her. “I would know my full failure so that I might in part understand my punishment.”
“Ah, Jalav,” she sighed, and the sadness within her voice dimmed the brilliance I had come to expect. “My warrior has not failed me, nor is it punishment that you now face. As ever, you serve my purposes, and serve them well and ably. Had I been able to speak to you of this sooner, much agony would have been spared you.”
“Mida, I do not understand!” I cried, turning again to her golden, glowing form. “I have been made captive to males, shamed and enslaved by them, and this was done by your will? How can it not be punishment?”
The golden glow surrounding her pulsed in agitation, and I saw that complete calm was no longer hers. Her slim, long-fingered hands grasped one another, and gentle pain showed upon her lovely face.
“Jalav, it was necessary that you join these males upon their journey,” she said, her voice striving for my understanding. “It is a thing that has long since been decreed by the Snows, and a thing that I, myself, cannot change—nor would I change it even if I were able. If we are to be victorious over the coming strangers, you must make this journey shown so clearly in the Snows.”
My head whirled with confusion, yet there was no need to voice my disturbance. Mida stepped closer, and looked down upon me with pity.
“I know well the many shames you have been subjected to,” she said, “and know, too, that there is more yet before you. You must bear it all with the strength of a war leader, for there is much left for you to do. There is no other I may call upon save you, Jalav, and you must not fail me.”
“I hear, Mida,” I whispered, still finding no understanding. “I will not fail you.”
“I have never doubted the loyalty of my Hosta war leader.” She smiled, the calm now returned to her. “That your life has so many times been returned to you should prove my continued love and need. Do not again seek destruction, Jalav, for all shame will eventually be wiped away. If I do not speak to you soon again, do not despair. I cannot reach through when you lie close beside a male or in the grip of a sleeping potion. When next we meet, it will not be in sleep.”
She faded from my sight then, and deep sleep returned to me, yet upon awakening, I could find little sense in what I had learned. There was endless relief in knowing that I had not been abandoned in my need, yet Mida had not said when my captivity would end, nor had she given me leave to resist it. My sworn word still bound me as closely as ever, and somehow I felt that Mida was unable to intercede for me. To my great disappointment, it was now clear that Mida was not all powerful, that there was another whose will superceded her own. I moved in annoyance within the lenga pelt, wondering if I were to assist her in destroying this other. No mention had been made of what was expected of me, save that I was not to seek destruction, and that I was to bear the shame given me without regret. I turned my head to see Telion and Ceralt asleep in their furs, and an anger tinged with hatred filled me. What further shame would be heaped upon me by their doing? What more must I face before freedom was again returned to me? I knew not, yet I had no doubt. Mida had spoken of it, and it would prove to be so.
As I no longer felt the need for sleep, I arose from the fur, donned my leather covering, and began encouraging the fire into new life. My life sign had lain upon the floor where I had dropped it, and after no more than a brief hesitation, I had again knotted it about my throat. I had as yet no real desire for my soul to be preserved, yet Mida had said that there was much I must do for her. Perhaps in that doing, the shame would be washed away from my soul, and I would again be worthy of the Blessed Realm. I had no real hope of such a thing, yet was it possible.
After I had set the falum to cook, I went to a window to look out. It seemed much lighter past the window than it should be, and my curiosity had been aroused. I had no other thing to do than set the falum to heat, for the pots which had been used the darkness previous had already been cleaned and returned to their places. I knew not whose hand had done the deed, yet I was pleased that it need not be my hand which was set to such an undertaking. This cleaning and cooking was fit only for males and slaves, and I, a war leader of the Hosta, need not concern myself with them forever. At some time, with the blessing of Mida, I would again ride free.
When I reached the window, all thoughts of cleaning and cooking and males left me, and I found myself able to do no more than gape and stare. There was much reason for the lightness I had seen there, and I grasped the edges of the window in wonder as I looked out. Everything without was covered by a blanket of whiteness, the ground, the trees, the dwellings—everything! Lightly, lightly, a flaky whiteness fell from the skies, thicker yet more silent than rain, and as the whiteness fell, all beneath it was completely covered. Never had I seen such a thing, and never had I imagined that such a thing might be. The whiteness fell and covered all beneath it, and seemed be going to continue forever. I saw that the ground could no longer be seen, and wondered how one moved about in such a medium.