“How do you know?” I put to him, this time challenging him for solid facts rather than empty reassurance. “Len is an empath and he was afraid. What makes you think Tammad won’t be?”
“Simply the fact that I know Tammad,” he answered with a shrug, his mind showing not the least doubt. “You know he never really understood your talent, but when was he ever afraid of it? How many times did he take a switch to you for what you did, no matter what anyone else thought about your ‘power’? Or are you worried that now that he can appreciate what you’re capable of, now’s the time the fear will start?”
“Why shouldn’t it?” I asked, beginning to feel defeated. “Len never used to be afraid of me, but now . . . . ”
“But now he is,” Garth interrupted, annoyed again. “It would help if you were able to read the reasons behind an emotion, not just the emotion itself. Sure Len’s afraid, but not of you. He’s fascinated by your new abilities and would love to have them himself, but he saw what you went through before you developed them, and is now afraid he doesn’t have the strength to go through the same thing without breaking. He’s also afraid he won’t have a choice about going through it, and that’s something that has him just about talking to himself. Would Tammad feel the same way’? Is there any sort of challenge you can possibly think of that Tammad would be afraid to face?”
“When he’s even planning to take on the entire Amalgamation and intends. winning?” I asked, delight and relief seeping into me around the fading doubt. “That would be the day. Oh, Garth! Do you really think it’ll be all right?”
“I’m positive it will,” he said with a grin, patting the hand I’d put on his arm. “Especially if you decide you need some coaxing practice.”
“Damn it, I almost forgot about that,” I said with the mind-equivalent of falling to the earth and squishing, the delight instantly evaporating. “I still have to figure out how to get around that.”
“You can get around it-maybe-by telling Tammad what we’ve been doing,” Garth said, and again his tone wasn’t allowing any argument. “The longer you put it off, the harder it will be.”
“I know, I know,” I grumbled, and then I looked at him again. “You think there’s a chance that telling Tammad why I want to learn to use a sword-as far as I can say why-won’t change his mind? You think he’d still make me-coax him?”
“I may be wrong, but that’s what I think,” he agreed, this time looking faintly frustrated. “I don’t know if I can explain this, you’re obviously not male. On Central or Alderan, training a woman to do a man’s job doesn’t mean a thing; most of those jobs could even be done by a trained panith, and no one would notice the difference. Here on Rimilia though, being a warrior, a l’lenda, is a thing to take pride in, something a man has to work hard to achieve, something he has to be willing to risk his life for. No woman could ever hope to match a Rimilian l’lenda in sword skill, and training her to it could be looked on as demeaning that skill. It’s a man’s thing, and not for women to get involved in.”
“Then you think he won’t say yes no matter what I do,” I said, oddly relieved despite my confusion. “But that doesn’t explain why you said . . . .”
“I’m coming to that,” Garth interrupted, holding up a hand and waggling it at me. “Because swordplay is a man’s thing, Tammad might ordinarily refuse—but he loves you very much. He wants to make you happy by giving you whatever he can—if you really want it. It won’t take him long to see you don’t really want it.”
“But of course I want it,” I protested, confused now as well as annoyed. “I told you how strong that feeling is, so strong that I can’t ignore it. Why would I have asked if I didn’t really want it?”
“You asked because the feeling was that strong,” Garth sighed, running the hand he’d waved through his long, dark hair. “You’re very female, Terry, and a highly sensitive empath, and you think of swordwork as violent and senseless-you said so yourself. The feeling you have doesn’t give you a reason for learning it, only the conviction you must, so you’re unconsciously looking for a way around the need. By hating the idea of coaxing Tammad, you found that way.”
I pronounced an unladylike word and punched the pillow I’d dropped earlier, just about the only reactions I could think of to what Garth had said. I’d heard the same thing from Gay King under other circumstances, but this time I couldn’t argue the point. Despite the roundabout niceties Garth had used, his explanation suggested I was a wimp.
“It sure is a good thing you respect me and my talent,” I muttered after a minute, looking up at him darkly. “If you didn’t, you might say something to get me mad.”
“Oh, I’d never do that,” Garth said with a headshake, his grin wider than ever. “If I did then Tammad would notice, and I’d have to face him. If you’re looking for someone I both respect and fear, don’t bother looking any farther. With him I don’t have to wonder what might happen to me. I know. ”
“You can’t distract me that easily,” I said with impatience, still glaring at him. “You may feel normal fear at the thought of facing Tammad, but you’re not afraid of him. Now that you’ve told me exactly what I am, tell me what I can do to change it.”
“Changing is your job, not mine,” he denied, looking around on the carpet fur for the bowl of meat and vegetables he’d dropped, finding all of the meat and most of the vegetables still in it. “My job is giving tactical advice and eating, the second of which I .now intend getting on to with enthusiasm so I’ll have enough strength to do the first. If you’re waiting to learn the right technique, just keep watching.”
“How can you just sit there and stuff your face when I still don’t know what to do?” I demanded, feeling his appreciation of the food he ate—and his amusement. “All you’ve really said is that maybe Tammad will teach me to use a sword if I tell him why I want to learn, and maybe he won’t. And if he does decide to teach me, maybe he won’t make me coax him, but you think he will. If he understands why I want to learn, why would he still make me coax him?”
“Men on this world are taught that nothing of value is gotten in life without paying a price for it,” he mumbled around a sloppy mouthful, more of his attention on the food than on me. “The price has to mean something to the one paying it, has to be more than a gesture, otherwise it buys nothing but its own value. If you’re not willing to pay that sort of price you won’t get what you think you want, even if someone decides to let you have it. If Tammad does it at all he’ll do it the right way, and your price will be paid in full. If you decide you really want it.”
He looked straight at me with those gray eyes again before going back to his food, and only then did I begin to understand that Len and Garth were being taught more of Rimilian ways than how to use a sword. What he’d said to me was probably something not usually said to a woman, as most women would have no need to know about it. Paying a price for something was obviously one aspect of the Rimilian code of honor, and women weren’t expected to have anything to do with honor.
When Garth’s eyes left me I rose silently to my feet, then walked around the bathing pool to stare sightlessly out of a window. The trouble with a code of honor was that it was horribly habit-forming, like a dangerous drug; once you got a taste of it you found yourself lured to other aspects of it, wondering if you could handle it under real pressure. Calling it a stupid waste of time is one way of admitting you don’t have what it takes to cut it, and I wasn’t ready to admit a defeat like that. I closed one fist around a handful of sheer white curtain, knowing that refusing to admit it didn’t negate a defeat, but I wasn’t beaten yet. I might end up beaten, but I refused to anticipate an end before it reached me. I wanted to win—if I could just figure out what it was I was fighting for—and against.