Garth was about to say something else, but the words were lost when Tammad came over to join us.
“It is now time to disembark,” he said, standing in front of me but looking at Garth. “Do not feel hesitant or uneasy, brother. You enter our world as one who is needed, not as one who must prove his worth. Your worth will prove itself many times over.”
“It’s strange, but I don’t have to force myself to believe that,” Garth answered with a smile. “I believe I can feel posterity waiting for me, and I’m anxious to get started. After you.”
Garth gestured toward the corridor, and Tammad, with a grin, preceded him out of the common area—with his hand wrapped around my arm. Garth had been invited to join the general departure, but Terrillian wasn’t good enough to be invited; she was nothing more than a wenda, to be taken wherever her owner decided he wanted her to go. I was angry enough to beat at the barbarian with one fist and use words I had seldom used before, but Tammad couldn’t have cared less. He ignored me the way someone else would ignore a recalcitrant child, and willy-nilly I soon found myself down off the ramp and onto thick green grass. The transport had landed not far from the embassy, in an open field that held more than four dozen camtahh about a quarter of a mile away. Planetary time was past middle of the afternoon, but it was still easy to see that the day had been a beautiful one. Small insects hummed and buzzed in the warmth, and birds happily soared around the soft breeze that whispered of evening to come. The six l’lendaa stood around the three female trippers, and as we came up to them, one of the men pointed toward the embassy.
“It is there where you will find assistance in returning to your people,” he said, looking the women over in a final sort of way. “Should you ever wish to return to us, have word sent to our city and we will come for you. As you are not women of our world, we have been told the choice must be yours.”
The l’lenda made it plain how little he liked that idea, which got two of the women flustered all over again. They’d been feeling a small amount of regret over leaving, but the relief the concept brought them far outweighed the regret. The third woman wasn’t allowing herself to feel anything, but the forced numbness was an ineffective shield against her pain. Once she was out of sight of the men, she would let herself cry forever.
One final round of good-byes was said, and then the women, carrying their luggage, started off for the embassy—or at least two of them did. When the third tried to leave with them, she found a large, immovable hand on her shoulder.
“You go in the wrong direction, wenda,” Hannas told her, looking down at her bowed head. “The camtahh of my people lie in the opposite direction.”
The girl, her head still down, wanted to answer in words, but the burning in her throat refused to allow that. She shook her head, a defeated, miserable gesture, filled with the knowledge that fairy tales never come true. If she went with him even her memories would probably be lost. I felt sick to my stomach from the vast helplessness welling out of her, but the steel fingers on my arm kept me from turning away and moving out of range. I swallowed down the urge to try the shield again, but didn’t know how long I’d be able to resist the temptation. Concentrating on how everyone’s hair moved gently in the breeze wasn’t enough of a distraction.
“Woman, you are not faced with a request,” Hannas persisted, his voice and expression turning stern. “The others may go or stay as they wish, but you will not be given that choice. I find I desire you, and have decided to take you with me when I return to my people. Had I brought my bands with me, you would not have been left this long in doubt.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the girl whispered, raising wildly confused eyes to his face. “There was nobody to stop you from doing whatever you pleased on the transport, but we’re on a planet now. You can’t just decide to take me with you whether I want to or not. It’s against the law.”
“Should you speak of Amalgamation law,” Tammad put in, drawing her eyes to him, “you err in thinking of Rimilia as an Amalgamation planet. The laws of Rimilia hold sway here, and all those who visit the planet must abide by them. Hannas may take any woman he wishes, so long as she is not the belonging of another. Are you the belonging of another?”
“But, that’s crazy!” the girl blurted, shaking her head as she ignored Tammad’s question. “Sure, I’d like to go with him but what if it doesn’t work out? I don’t know anything about him, and he—he knows even less about me. What if he decides he doesn’t want me after all?”
The girl’s voice was quivering, true fear staring out of her eyes, but it was Hannas rather than Tammad who answered her question. He took her gently by the arms and turned her to face him, then smoothed back her short blond hair.
“In time we will know all there is to know of one another,” he told her softly, staring down into her widened eyes. “At the moment, you need only know that I am a man who desires you and will have you. Will you walk with me to my camtah, wenda, or must I carry you?”
“You wouldn’t carry me,” she whispered, still wide-eyed with shock. Even after everything she’d said about being asked, she still failed to realize that the attitude carried over into everything l’lendaa did. Men were given the option of refusal as men were able to back up that refusal with a sword; women couldn’t, therefore the option was never offered them,
Hannas sighed, knowing when words were useless, then bent and threw her up on his shoulder, making her drop her suitcase. The girl, suddenly frightened, squawked and struggled, causing the other two women, who had stopped to watch, to pale and back away. They’d been told they were being released, but with men like those a woman can never be sure. The other l’lendaa laughed as they watched Hannas striding away toward the tents in the distance, a squirming, protesting bundle of girl over his shoulder, then a couple of them turned to look speculatively toward the other two women. The women, having learned what was good for them, turned and began running toward the embassy, stumbling and breaking stride every time their suitcases threw them off pace. They were filled with pure panic, and it didn’t ease much when they saw the ground cars filled with people coming from the embassy. The ground cars were going in the wrong direction, and the women were smart enough to know that the people in them might not be able to do any more than they could—which was just about what their friend had accomplished. They moved as fast as they could toward the embassy, refraining from looking back in case they saw something they really didn’t want to see.
“That must be your welcoming committee,” Garth observed to Tammad, watching the ground cars get closer. “Quite a turnout for a world with no more than a single embassy.”
“They have reason to be concerned over my health and doings,” Tammad murmured back, the dryness in his voice like sandpaper. “I had no doubt they would greet its, yet their numbers have grown since my departure. Perhaps I will find the discussions to come of interest after all.”
Neither one of them had anything to add to that, so we all stood in silence as we waited for the two ground cars to reach us. I squinted against the lowering sun, trying to make out who the cars contained, unconsciously breathing deep of the fresh, clean air around us. If nothing else can be said for Rimilia, at least the quality of its air is superior.
The first ground car stopped within five feet of us, the second stopping just behind it, and by then I knew who some of the passengers were. The first car, driven by Denny Ambler, who was resident diplomat at the embassy, contained three other diplomats and Murdock McKenzie, head of the XenoDiplomacy Bureau on Central. I stirred uncomfortably in Tammad’s grip as I watched Murdock struggle his way out of the car, forcing his twisted body to move the way he wanted it to. Murdock had his mind under its usual tight control, but I hadn’t missed his reaction when he saw the way Tammad was holding me. He realized immediately that something was wrong between us, and his regret and relief were mired exactly half and half. Considering the fact that he was the one who had given Tammad a transport to use, his reaction was rather unexpected. I couldn’t help getting the feeling that Murdock was playing with inner wheels again, probing deep in an attempt to make things turn out the way he wanted them to. He and Tammad were very much alike, but Murdock had been playing the game a good deal longer than the barbarian. If experience counted for anything, Murdock would not be the loser in any showdown between them.