“I intended saying nothing of the sort,” replied Telion with a yawn. “I merely intended pointing out that our wench here has felt herself responsible for all wenches about her for quite some time. Perhaps it is too soon to expect her to witness another wench’s punishment without the bitterness of being helpless to prevent it.”
“Perhaps,” Ceralt conceded, his voice unconvinced. “She may indeed be bitter for such a reason, yet a reason does not dispense with the need for punishment. If naught else, she must learn her old responsibilities are no more.”
“Such a thing may take more time than we currently possess,” Lialt sighed, rising to his feet. “I feel the Times pressing, the Snows demanding their due. There shall soon be room for thought of naught else. Is Jalav to accompany us to Hannil’s tent, or remain behind?”
“She must accompany us,” Ceralt replied, also rising to his feet. “Hannil must be shown every bit of evidence we possess to convince him of the necessity for the journey. How may we do so without the presence of the hadat? Jalav, straighten yourself now and replace your leathers. All of them.”
I raised my head from the furs in obedience to Ceralt’s word, yet found the need to kneel in place till the lightheadedness and whirling left me. The males, including Telion, all moved about fetching their leathers and furs, yet soon were able to stand and watch as I donned mine. Their interest in me seemed other than usual, with no word spoken even as we left the tent.
Without the tent the cold seemed to draw the life from one, a small wind sending it deep within one’s leathers and furs. Through the strange, lightened darkness and snow we trudged, toward a set of tents which had not stood about the clearing earlier. One tent, larger than the others as it was like that of Ceralt, three tents as one, was that to which we walked, all hurrying to the urging of the wind and cold. In but a few reckid we had reached its entrance, and Ceralt led Lialt within, Telion’s arm urging me in before him.
The new tent appeared no different from Ceralt’s, yet the smells within were strange and unattractive. Ceralt and Lialt paused to remove their furs, as did Telion behind me, yet it took a nudge of some strength from Telion before I was reminded that my leg furs must be removed with the rest. I did so most unwillingly, uneasy in the atmosphere which lay heavily all about, then Lialt and Ceralt moved more fully into the tent, and I was able to see those who occupied it.
Three males sat in a line upon the furs, two reclining at their ease, the third seated cross-legged as he drank from a skin which undoubtedly contained near-renth. Dark of hair and eye were these males, like all village males save Ceralt and Lialt, large, broad and strong like the others, yet somehow less alert, less alive. Each male was attended by a female, slight, dark, unclothed—and chained. The females knelt beside their males, their wrists, chained together, held close to their throats by yet another chain which circled their throats, their faces tense, their eyes filled with misery and fear. It was this fear which stained the air, fouling it so that to breathe it was to breathe terror and defeat, despair and hopelessness. Ceralt and Lialt moved as though reluctant to enter, and Telion made a sound in his throat, too low for others to hear. Had it been possible, I would have left on the instant.
“Ah, Ceralt!” boomed he with the skin of near-renth, wiping his mouth upon the back of his hand. “Thinking you would be longer in coming, we were about to begin a sport with our wenches. See, they have already been chained.”
“What a shame our arrival has caused you an inconvenience,” murmured Lialt, looking down upon the females. “The sport would undoubtedly have been an extraordinary one.”
“Not at all,” laughed the seated male, putting his hand to the female kneeling beside him. “Deela has many times played at the sport, therefore do the other two wenches lose to her with regularity. Perhaps it is time to devise a new sport, one which is equally unknown to them all.”
The female Deela, kneeling beside the male, had seemed as fearful as the other females—till one looked into her eyes. Secret triumph lurked within the large, dark orbs, twisting the female’s beauty to pleasured cruelty. At the male’s words her skin paled and terror came to her eyes, and immediately she bent farther and began putting her lips to the male’s belly and thighs.
“I see Deela wishes no part of a new sport,” laughed the male, putting his fist to her hair to hold her still. “To the rear of the tent with you, wench, on your knees and head to the fur. Serious business is now at hand; sport must wait for another time. All of you wenches, go!”
The three females struggled to their feet, hurried to the packs at the rear of the tent, then knelt with heads down as they had been commanded. Little relief had shone in their eyes, for their torment had merely been postponed.
“Does that one not know herself female?” asked the seated male, his eyes of a sudden resting upon me.
“Did I not say all females were to obey me?”
“Hannil, this is Jalav,” said Ceralt, turning to regard me without expression. “Do you forget the words describing the hadat of our journey? This one is hadat in truth, as opposed to accompanying us as would be one which walked upon four legs. She obeys none save me, for I have made her my woman.”
“Her eyes show little obedience of any sort,” muttered he called Hannil, displeased to a large degree. “How is she beneath those leathers? Worth the taking?”
“She is scarred,” said Ceralt, returning his gaze to the seated male. “She was near death when we retrieved her from the forests to which she had fled. She will wear the marks upon her for all of her days.”
“Indeed,” murmured the seated male, leaning back at his ease. “And yet, how badly wounded might she have been, that she now stands before us? I understand you claim the intervention of the Serene Oneness, preserving her solely to allow her to make this journey. Perhaps I had best see these scars you speak of, so that I, too, may be certain of the matter of intervention.”
Ceralt gazed down upon the male Hannil, his face expressionless, his body unexplainably more tense than it had been, unaware of the look Lialt sent him, unaware of Telion’s stirring beside me. No more than a brief instant did Ceralt stand so, and then he nodded as though naught had occurred.
“Certainly,” said he, something of a smile upon his face. “Let us by all means make certain of your belief. Jalav, remove your leathers.”
The eyes of the seated males came to me at Ceralt’s words, and I disliked their stare in its entirety. They anticipated more than the sight of the tracks of Silla spears, a thing obvious from the gleam in their eyes, the licking of their lips. They seemed more youthful than their appearance would indicate, mere children all aglow, about to indulge in forbidden pleasures. These males were males in appearance only, as some Hosta captives had proven to be, fit only to have lips curled when warriors looked upon them.
“Remove that look from your face!” Telion hissed in my ear, unnoticed by the others as they inspected my legs where I had begun taking the leather from me. “Would you force Ceralt to punish you here, before these others, to salve their pride?”
I made no reply to the male, merely removing the covering from my upper body, seething within at the battle my mind fought. Was I to hide my disgust at these new males to keep from being shamed before them? I could not bear either thought, wishing only to be shut of the entire lot of them, gone about Mida’s business as I was destined to go. How long, Mida, how long?
“Surely those are spear scars,” frowned one of the seated males, moving his eyes about me. “it seems unbelievable that she walks and uses her hands. I have seen riders permanently crippled with wounds less severe.”