After another few minutes Loddar stirred and got to his feet, recognizing Tammad’s figure coming toward us. There weren’t too many people still walking around the camp, but Tammad would have been hard to miss even in a crowd. His mind was still bent out of shape by the fury of the emotions he had experienced, but a good deal of his usual calm was back, at least on the surface.
“Loddar, you need not have remained awake,” he said as he came up to us, only glancing at me. “The woman is safe in the midst of our camp, and would not have been able to stray of her own accord.”
“It was no inconvenience, denday,” Loddar assured him with warmth. “I remained only to inform you that your wishes have been seen to.”
“And perhaps to speak of why the woman was left bound?” Tammad said, folding his arms as be switched his stare to me. “It would be foolish to overlook any insult given you, Loddar. Others would not be as charitable.”
“There was no insult, Tammad,” Loddar replied, his tone remaining warm. “You have told us Terril is an off-worlder wenda, and therefore is her manner more understandable. Not excusable, you understand; merely understandable. She has been left bound to teach her that proper words are not enough. Obedience and respect go deeper than mere words.”
“She must indeed be made to feel these things,” the barbarian agreed, giving approval to Loddar’s actions. “Only in obedience will she find happiness.”
Loddar grunted to complete the agreement, but I didn’t say a word. I could feel their surprise at my silence, but I just didn’t care. I was tired of wasting my breath protesting fantasies.
“I will take her now,” Tammad said, unfolding his arms as he stepped nearer to me. “I wish you a good rest, Loddar.”
“I will not return the sentiment, denday,” Loddar chuckled, turning toward his camtah. “Had I brought my wenda with me, I, too, would find little interest in rest.”
Tammad grinned as Loddar disappeared into his camtah, the dying flames of the fire turning the grin into something ghastly. I waited patiently until the leather was removed from my wrists and the clip taken from my ankle bands, but being untied didn’t mean I was free. Tammad crouched and lifted me in his arms, then headed toward his pavilion.
“If you’d give me a minute, I’d be able to walk,” I said, feeling more annoyed than I cared to show. “Or are you afraid you’d lose me in the dark if you gave me the chance to run?”
“Should you run, you will find yourself no match for those who follow,” he answered, undisturbed by my comment. “It pleases me to carry you, therefore do I do so.”
To hell with what pleases you, I thought, looking at his face. His eyes were straight ahead, watching where we were going, paying no attention to me where I lay against his chest. I hurt just about all over, but that was nothing unusual on that planet. Then I found that I wanted to put my head against his shoulder, and had to sharply bring myself up short. It would be easy to give in and let him have everything he wanted, but living with myself afterward would be considerably harder.
The pavilion was only dimly lit when we entered, but dim is considerably brighter than darkness. The barbarian let the thin fold of material fall closed behind him, then headed for the drape which usually closed off sleeping furs from view. Behind the drape the sleeping furs were all arranged, and in another moment I was put down on the smaller set. Tammad paused in his crouch to examine my hands, then stood straight to open his swordbelt.
“Do not attempt .to remove your clothing yourself,” he said, putting his sword and dagger on the far side of his furs. “It was foolish of you to overuse your hands so, and you are not to do so again. Do you understand?”
“Certainly.” I looked away from him toward the wall bisected by the drape. “Anything you say.”
“You have no intentions of arguing?” he asked, his mind suspicious. “Are you not prepared to make your injury the result of my actions?”
“Would it do me any good?” I asked in turn, still staring at the soft material of the pavilion wall. “If it won’t, why should I bother?”
“I see,” he said, the suspicion disappearing as his mind solved the problem. “You attempt to burden me with silent guilt, that which cannot be argued against. I have heard of such a thing from various men of your worlds, when they spoke of the doings of their wendaa. It is not a thing done by wendaa of this world, for they know it would avail them naught. Continue with the practice if it pleases you.”
His unconcern—true, not feigned—was enough to set my teeth on edge with its callousness. He didn’t care one way or the other whether I blamed him for something, as long as he didn’t blame himself. He accepted the consequences of what he did without feeling guilt, no matter what those consequences were. I clenched my fists gently over the grease Loddar had put on my palms, feeling more upset with everything that happened. There was no reaching that barbarian on any level I was used to, and I was running out of ideas.
“Now we may see to your clothing,” the barbarian said, bringing his hands and attention to my imad. I knew from the way he stressed the word “your” that his haddin must be gone, but didn’t turn my head to look. I didn’t care that he was slowly opening the imad ties before moving on to the caldin sash; I would not give him what he wanted.
“Lie back and raise your hips,” he directed after pulling the imad off over my head and tossing it away. I did as he said and had the caldin taken as well, then had a quizzical expression sent toward me. “Why do you gaze at me so strangely?” he asked, reaching out to smooth my hair. “Your silence is strange as well, and quite different from your usual manner.”
“Why bother asking?” I shrugged from my place in the furs, ignoring the big hand that touched my hair so gently. “Silent accusation doesn’t bother you—remember?”
“I do indeed,” he nodded, looking down at me. “Yet do I feel your silence as one demanding answers to questions as yet unasked. Should you wish the answers, you cannot leave them unasked.”
“I don’t have any questions,” I began, shaking my head, then changed my mind. “No, as a matter of fact I do have one. Are these the furs you put her on?”
“Ah, now do I begin to see.” He grinned. “The reason for your coldness and lack of interest is the previous presence of another wenda, one who threatens your position by my side. Should you wish to take her from my thoughts, wends, coldness is not the manner in which this might be done.”
“She’s welcome to her place in your thoughts,” I answered. “She can even have whatever my relation to you is supposed to be. All I want to know is whether or not she used these furs—because if she did, I won’t sleep in them. I may have nothing on this planet to call my own, but I’d rather have less than nothing than use anything she used first!”
He blinked down at my anger in confusion, finding my response different from the one he had expected. He was used to having women fight to get at him, not fight to get away from him. And the fact that all I was interested in was the furs really threw him. He stared at me thoughtfully for a minute or two, then reached out for a strand of my hair.
“The black-haired wenda was used in the front of the pavilion, without furs,” he said, keeping those blue eyes directly on me. “You now know where she was used; do you also wish to know how she was used?”
“That I already know,” I said, lying back down and turning my face from him. “As fond as you seem to be of posing, you should have been an artist.”
“It continually amazes me how little may be kept from you,” he said, and I could hear the amusement back in his voice. “Perhaps I should require this posing of you as well, to compare the delights offered by you both.”
“I offer nothing,” I rasped, turning on my side to be farther away from his amusement. “And I also leave the posing to professionals. Competition of that sort has never interested me.”