The barbarian stared at me another long minute, his mind shifting through emotional sets and responses so quickly I blinked, then he put me down again and nodded his head.
“It is as the Garth R’Hem Solohr says,” he agreed, the calm flowing back over him so completely it was as if he stood under a falls of the stuff. “To win the wenda of his choice, a man must sometimes do battle with the wenda herself. This woman’s weapons are not mine, yet I will not refuse to wield them. I will not fall to anger again.”
“Good.” Garth smiled, clapping him gently on the shoulder. “If she won’t believe what you say, make her believe what you do. Words can be argued against; actions can’t.”
“And it is more than time for those actions to begin.” The barbarian nodded, wrapping his hand around my arm. “Come, wenda. Your work awaits you.”
It’s more than tiring to be dragged around all over the place, but that was still the way I was taken out of the pavilion and over to the large fire half-a-dozen of the women were working at. Startled, the women stopped what they were doing when Tammad came up to them, but he raised a hand to gesture them back to calm.
“As you wendaa labor to provide for those without women,” he said to them in their own language, “I bring you another pair of hands to assist in your efforts. You will find her unskilled in even the simplest of chores, yet must she be taught to do as other wendaa do—for she has no other value. School her in the hardest of labors—so that she may prove her worth as a woman.”
His bland gaze shifted to me as the women giggled, pleased to be given the chance to help their denday discipline his wenda, but I didn’t react to his speech or to the women’s amusement, at least not the way he expected me to.
“I have no worth,” I informed him with the same calm be showed to me. “I am worthless and ignorant, useless in all things a l’lenda might find of interest. No one other than a fool would retain ownership of me under such circumstances.”
The women’s amusement disappeared in abrupt shock, but the anger I was expecting from Tammad—and already half cringed away from—never materialized. His calm remained unruffled with no effort on his part, and even slightly amused.
“It is a l’lenda’s place to say what worth a woman may have,” he informed me in turn, the ghost of a grin on his face. “Your helplessness in the furs is some small asset, yet do I demand to see more. Work hard and learn well, wenda, and think upon how you might add to my pleasure in the furs. I will not accept refusal from you in either area.”
He chucked me under the chin and then turned and strode away, off to see to more important matters than the doings of women. I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back, making a face at the same time, then turned around to find all six of the women staring at me.
“Terril, have you lost your wits?” one of them hissed at me, looking around quickly to see if any of the l’lendaa had noticed what I’d done. “That Tammad punishes you is clear to all, yet there are worse punishments than being made to do that which you so clearly dislike. That be found amusement rather than anger in your words was your good fortune; it would not be the same were he to learn of insolence shown toward his authority.”
“Your denday is well aware of my feelings toward him,” I told her. “The sooner I am free of his bands, the sooner will life hold meaning again. I will give him no pleasure that is not forced from me, and will obey him no more than I must.”
“A great deal of pleasure must then be forced from you in the furs,” purred another, a tall slinky blond who would have given a lot to take my place. “Helplessness in a man’s arms comes from the wenda herself, brought about by her feelings for the l’lenda. Should she be the sort to allow a man her soul, her words to the contrary are a fool’s boasting.”
“I cannot help that over which I have no control!” I snapped at her, feeling the women’s renewed amusement in the red on my cheeks. “Should you one day find yourself in that beast’s arms, speak to me then of helplessness and a fool’s boasting!”
“Let us not argue over such matters,” the first woman said, overriding the flush of anger on the second woman’s cheeks. “Is it not the same for all of us, no matter which l’lenda holds us? Is there one among us who is able to deny their least demand? Is there one among us who would have it other than as it is?” The other women looked at one another and laughed, shaking their heads, and the first woman smiled at me. “Terril, we do not know you, yet do we know of the desire Tammad feels for you, for our l’lendaa have spoken of it. Do not seek to deny him, for such an action would be futile. Join us, and learn from us, and soon the happiness of obedience will be yours as it is ours.”
The others murmured their agreement to what the first had said, their minds confirming the words, and I had to hide the sickness I felt. I could never be conditioned the way they were even if I wanted to be; I was too used to freedom, and they didn’t know it well enough to judge what was best. We could speak to each other of needs and desires, but each spoke of something the other was incapable of comprehending.
“I thank you for your offer of assistance and will do my best to learn from you,” I told all the women, looking down from the first one’s smile. “Should you fail to teach me some aspect of your way of life, the failure will not be yours.”
“Nor will be the punishment,” said the first woman briskly, putting her hand to my chin to raise my face to hers. “Therefore let us begin now, that the punishment may be longer in the coming. I am Bisah, and I will concern myself with your instruction.”
They all went back to tending the large animal they were about to put over the fire, and Bisah kept me right beside her, explaining what she and the others were doing. The small breeze that ruffled the air could barely be felt beside the blaze of the fire, but none of the women complained about the sweat covering them. They worked quickly and efficiently, seasoning the skinned animal, burying vegetables under the fire, mixing a basting oil, and the like, ignoring everything but what their hands were concerned with. My attention kept drifting from Bisah’s voice to the end of the lovely day around us, my eyes finding it impossible to search out the sight of the embassy with all the camtahh standing around. The mere sight of it would have helped, letting me know there was more than barbarians on that world, but even that comfort was denied me.
Bisah didn’t notice how far my attention had strayed, but the second woman, the one I had argued with, had formed a near-instant dislike for me and was not above trying to make trouble for me. Her burst of triumph brought my attention to her, and I found her just turning around from the fire, apparently looking for a l’lenda to complain to. I could feel the whininess and helplessness she was preparing to use while she told about my disobedience to Tammad’s orders, and a deep anger welled to the surface in my mind. Without stopping to think about it I hurled a bolt of hesitation at her, cutting off her words more effectively than with a gag, then added a good dose of fear to the hesitation. I heard a gasp from her as her mind seized the fear and built on it, adding personal slants to the general emotion I had given her. It was impossible for me to know what framework her mind built, but the speed with which she turned back to the fire showed she was probably picturing herself being punished right along with me, for some reason only she herself would know. Her pale face and wide-eyed look turned in my direction, but her mind said she wasn’t really seeing me. I watched her trembling hands go back to what they’d been doing with some small sense of wonder of my own; I’d never really thought of using my abilities in just that way before, and hadn’t realized how much could be accomplished. If I hadn’t been angry, I would not have tried it even then. It was obvious I’d have to think about what else might be done along the same lines.