The lines of the disagreement were suddenly a lot less clear-cut than they had been a few minutes earlier, but I wasn’t about to let him talk me out of my mad. He was really good at that, shifting the ground under my feet, but this time I wasn’t going to let him do it.
“Weren’t you doing the same thing to me’?” I demanded, straightening where I sat. “Did you consider my wishes in anything you did? How would you like it if I laughed and refused when you offered protection? It would make you feel pretty cheap and small, now wouldn’t it?”
“Protection of a man’s wenda is his duty, Terril,” he answered very gently, still looking down at me with that same expression. “It matters not in what manner you accept the offer, only is the manner in which I discharge the duty to be considered. Should you wish to laugh you may do so; still shall I protect you with all the skill and determination at my command. Do you mean to contend that you did not disobey me, and therefore should not have been punished?”
“I-was trying to do what was best for everyone involved,” I maintained, upset to realize that being laughed at wouldn’t have bothered him. “You made the plans and included me in them, and not once was I consulted, not by any of you. If you three can do it, why can’t I?”
“You have no need to be told the reason, for you already know it,” he said with such true, easy calm that I wanted to avoid those light eyes pinning me with a stare. “We who are l’lendaa see to decisions such as that, and have no need to consult with what wendaa may be involved. Speak to me truly, Terriclass="underline" are you l’lenda yourself, or a lovely, desirable, beloved wench?”
“What’s wrong with being both?” I demanded, hating the way he described a woman for the way it made me want to be like that. “You said you couldn’t stand my being absolutely obedient, so you don’t see anything wrong with it either. You want me to be both.”
“No, wenda,” he disagreed, even more gentle than he had been, a faint, fond smile curving his lips. “You were wise to show me the foolishness of what I had demanded, for to be such a thing would make you no longer yourself, no longer the woman I love so deeply. You must be what you are, yet does that continue to mean a wenda, one who must nevertheless be as obedient as possible to the man to whom she belongs. I have no doubt that you shall continue to require punishment, yet shall that punishment never be given for speaking the truth as you did earlier. No more shall it bring you than my apologies, for having wronged the woman I love.”
“I hate you!” I cried, thrusting the fur away so that I might throw myself on him and beat at his face with my fists. I did hate him, desperately, for making everything turn out the way he wanted it to, for the fact that a real l’lenda didn’t need anyone else’s agreement in order to be that thing—and for forcing me to know how terribly I still loved him. I didn’t want to be nothing but a wenda, but at the same time I wanted to be nothing other than his wenda, nothing but the beloved of a man who could apologize when he found he’d been wrong. I screamed and threw myself at him, raging at the way he’d pulled me back to him so easily, but he didn’t even have to unfold his legs to defend himself from my attack. Before my fists could touch him my wrists were in his hands, and then they were behind my back and I was being pulled up against him.
“You feel no hatred, my beloved, no more than do I,” he said, looking down into my eyes as I struggled uselessly against his strength. “No more than unhappiness touches you, and for that I am indeed responsible. I will strive to the utmost to remove that unhappiness, for never should it have been allowed to approach you.”
He put one hand to my hair then bent his head to kiss me, at the same time touching my mind with his love. His lips were so soft and warm against mine, nothing to really fight against, nothing to hate or resent. He kissed me gently, lovingly, tenderly, this barbarian who could have crushed me to broken bones with only a fraction of his limitless strength. I suddenly found my arms were around his neck and I was kissing him back, but not with the more pristine emotions. I wanted him as much as I always did, with both body and mind, and when he realized that he chuckled.
“It’s not funny, you beast,” I murmured, pressing myself to his body as I kissed his face. “And I do hate you-for always winning.”
“Are not my victories yours as well, hama sadendra?” he asked, letting his hands move over me. “First you must eat, and then I shall give you the joy I am able to feel that you desire. ”
“I forgot about eating,” I said with annoyance, but his mention of food reminded me just how hungry I was. “But while we’re at it, shouldn’t we also move to your own camtah’?”
“Wenda, we are already in my camtah,” he said with a grin, moving me back off his lap so that he might get himself ready to leave the tent. “Which other of those we ride with would have set out two sets of sleeping furs?”
He gestured just before moving through the tent flaps, and I turned my head to see that he was right. The fur I’d taken to put around myself was his, but mine were spread out just beyond that. It annoyed me that I’d gone straight to his tent even when I was furious with him, but something inside me was smugly satisfied. I crawled over and retrieved the fur I’d dropped, wrapped it around me and sat where I’d been, then decided that I didn’t much care for this “something inside me.” Having part of me be totally on Tammad’s side struck me as the basest sort of betrayal, and I’d have to see what I could do to get rid of it permanently.
A minute later Tammad was back, with the fourth bowl of stew that had been kept warm by the fire. I took the bowl and raised the scoop to my lips, took a good mouthful of the stew—then just looked at the crouching barbarian until I’d managed to swallow it.
“That was awful,” I got out at last, seeing his grin at the face I was making. “I thought you three said it was so wonderful?”
“We deemed it wonderful to give pleasure to you, wench,” he answered, still clearly amused. “Each of us was able to feel your great unhappiness, and wished to give you a thing to be proud of. For us your effort was filled with true excellence, for we measured the desire behind the effort rather than the doing itself.”
“You all lied to make me feel better,” I accused, but the accusation brought only a silly smile and a feeling of true warmth. “Thank you for doing something that-foolish. ”
“To give others pleasure is never foolish, hama,” he said with an answering smile, no least feeling of insult in him at being accused of lying. “Finish quickly, now, so that I may give pleasure to another.”
“And of course take nothing for yourself,” I agreed with a laugh, then went back to the awful stew. It wasn’t absolutely awful, just badly seasoned and a little overcooked, but that put it way out of the running as far as regular Rimilian cooking went. It annoyed me that I hadn’t been able to get it right even with Dallan right there to help, and I made the decision to try just a little harder next time. After that the bowl was taken away from me, and all the following decisions were made by someone absolutely determined to give someone else pleasure.
4
I carried both sets of furs out of the camtah the next morning, already having folded them, wishing I was wearing them instead of simply carrying them. It was cold at that early hour, really cold, and everyone was feeling it. I, however, was also feeling something else, and for the life of me couldn’t understand why.