Few, indeed, were the moments which passed before the sounds of struggle and displeasure heralded the return of Cimilan with Famira. The male appeared at the tent flap, the female upon his shoulder, shouts of outrage and revilement flying about his head. Cimilan strode three steps within before setting Famira upon her feet, yet his having released her meant naught of consequence. He stood, wide-shouldered and hard-eyed, between Famira and the tent flap, a thing the female saw at once. I had twisted about to observe their entrance, leaning low and to the left, and Ceralt promptly pushed me flat to the lanthay fur upon my belly, his hand in my back holding me there.
“For what reason have you forced me to return here?” Famira demanded of Cimilan, her fists clenched as she stared up to the face of the male. “Have you not already done more than enough to me?”
Cimilan received Famira’s words with no expression, yet his dark eyes seemed to reflect more of the light from the flames-within-boxes. He stood in no more than his leathers, apparently not having felt the cold, and his eyes swept the body furs Famira stood wrapped in.
“I have brought you here so that you may offer apology to the High Rider,” said Cimilan, folding his arms across his chest. “Your conduct before him earlier was inexcusable, and I will not allow the incident to go unnoticed. And have you never learned the proper actions of a woman? What do you do there, standing in a man’s dwelling with boots upon your feet? Remove them at once, and your furs as well!”
The snap in Cimilan’s voice gave Famira pause, yet she seemed to come quickly to a decision. She opened and removed her fur body covering, bent to remove her leg furs, then stood straight to face the male once more.
“As it was you who forcibly carried me here,” said she in a sharpened tone, “what else was I to expect save abuse for my lacks? Have it as you will, Cimilan. The fault was mine.”
A faint grin appeared upon the male’s face, and his head nodded in agreement. “I am pleased to see you have the right of it,” said he, bringing a brief look of surprise to Famira. “You may now prepare your apology.”
The female grew furious at the words addressed to her, yet she did no more than clench her fists and glare upon the male. Then she tossed her head in angry dismissal and began to turn to Ceralt, yet Cimilan had not yet completed his instructions.
“Hold,” said he, halting her turn. “I see little in your bearing of the proper humbleness an apology calls for. I think it best that you remove the leather of men before attempting a wench’s apology. ”
“How dare you suggest such a thing?” Famira gasped, outraged beyond limit. “Do you think that I, being who I am, will do such a thing? Never!”
The female stood stiffened in fury, her eyes ablaze, her cheeks reddened in embarrassment. She faced the male who dared to speak to her so, and Ceralt chuckled softly behind me.
“You will indeed do such a thing,” Cimilan returned, holding her eyes as he looked down upon her. “You are a woman who has been commanded by the man who has chosen her. Do not think you will not obey.”
Famira seemed truly taken aback by the soft menace in Cimilan’s voice, and also seemed at a loss as to what might be said. Her eyes moved briefly to Ceralt and me and then grudgingly returned to the male.
“Cimilan, I cannot do such a thing before others,” she whispered, reluctance and desperation amingle in her tone and manner. “I will return with you to our tent immediately, and there you may do as you wish.”
She then bent to retrieve her body fur, yet Cimilan’s booted foot rested upon the garment, disallowing its retrieval. Her head turned to look up toward him again, and true fear showed a shadow of itself in her eyes.
“Cimilan, please!” she begged, voice aquiver with emotion. “There are strangers present! I cannot remove my garments! Allow me to return to our tent with you!”
The male’s head shook in negation, no amusement to be seen in his eyes. His bearing was calm, his mind firm, and there was little to be seen of the male who had earlier condemned himself. Famira, too, saw these things, and turned from him to stand erect before Ceralt.
“Cousin, I ask your aid,” said she, choking upon words which were loathsome to her. “I, your kin, am in need of assistance. ”
Ceralt regarded her from where he reclined beside me in the lanthay fur. “Kinswoman, I hear your plea for assistance,” said he, his tone mild yet grave. “Do you wish me to give aid in your disrobing?”
“Ceralt, do not speak so!” Famira cried, eyes wide in shock. “Take amusement from my predicament if you must, yet stand before me as you are honor-bound to do!”
“Matters of honor are those between men,” Ceralt informed her, his tone having grown cold. “I will not be schooled in my obligations by a wench. Should I find that Cimilan’s actions require my intervention, I will begin such intervention upon my own initiative. At the moment, I believe you have been commanded to perform a certain act. As I am filled with a kinsman’s concern, I suggest that you obey—and with speed.”
As Famira heard Ceralt’s words, a bitterness took her. Her shoulders straightened and her head came up, and the bleakness in her eyes was painful to behold.
“So you both mock me,” she said, her voice edged with all that which her body showed. Her eyes remained upon Ceralt, yet she also addressed the male Cimilan. “For many kalod I have been aware of the hatefulness of men, of their beastiality and lustfulness. I had thought, perhaps, to find myself wrong, yet your actions continue to prove my original estimations correct. Do as you will with me, I cannot prevent it, yet I refuse to contribute to my own moral degradation. I will not disrobe.”
The female stood with head held high, hands clasped before her, a look upon her face which was akin to that which might be found upon the face of a warrior about to be summarily executed by enemies. I, myself, knew well the concept of humiliation before males, yet Famira showed naught of thoughts of humiliation. I stirred in the lanthay fur beneath Ceralt’s hand, puzzled by that in Famira of which I had no understanding. Beyond Famira, Cimilan moved his gaze to Ceralt, an uncertain expression beginning in his eyes, yet the male must have seen a thing in Ceralt’s face which hardened his resolve. He looked again upon the female who stood before him, and reached a hand out to her shoulder.
“The matter, then, is simple,” said he, unconcern much evident as he turned the female to face him. “As you will not obey me, you shall be punished for the refusal and made to obey me. ”
He then pulled Famira toward him and put his hands upon her leathers, obviously with the intention of removing them. The female uttered a sound of combined shock and outrage and attempted to struggle and retain her garments, yet Cimilan was not to be denied. I wondered at the manner in which Famira struggled, for she had clearly indicated that she would offer no resistance to the male, yet she beat at him with her fists and cried out in dismay. Ceralt, whose hand had grown heavier upon me as though he thought I would rise to Famira’s defense, leaned closer to me and put his lips by my ear.
“Within her, she is no more than a fearful child,” he murmured, unheard by the others above Famira’s cries. “She fears men and what they might do to her, for she has not yet truly been made a woman. Observe her actions and recall them afterward.”
He then leaned back from me, for Cimilan had succeeded in removing Famira’s leathers, just then finishing with her breech. The city female reached at the bit of leather in desperation, yet Cimilan threw it behind him, beyond her reach. Famira was then nearly beyond herself, her anger gone, shock alone riding full within her. She was not badly made for a city female, full breasts, well turned hips, slender legs, flat belly, yet one would wonder at her concept of herself, were they to see the expression she wore. Her shame was not that she had been made to bare herself by the will of men; it was that she had been made to show her body to anyone other than herself. I marveled at the manner in which city females grew to womanhood, to accept selection by males as meet, to feel shame at baring their bodies. This Famira stood as one caught in dishonor, her body bent forward and half turned from us, her right arm stretched before her body, attempting to shield herself from view, her left hand at her face, disallowing sight of her pretty, red-flushed face. I knew Ceralt looked upon her, for his hand spread wide upon my back, moving slowly back and forth, stirring my blood as his desire came into being. Cimilan, too, looked upon the female Famira, yet the eyes of the second male detected a lack. He stepped to her and reached his hands to her hair, and another moment saw the clasps and plaits gone from it, Cimilan seeing that it fell loose about her shoulders, dark and flowing nearly to her waist. As he stepped back once more to survey his handiwork, a sob came from Famira, as though her soul were soon to be lost. Cimilan considered her a number of reckid, yet no further sounds came to interrupt his observations, and at last he folded his arms and addressed her.