“What we do here is our own concern,” Aesnil answered, her chin high despite the obvious quiver in her voice. “By what right do you detain us?”
“Right?” the man exploded, rising to his full height to look down at the faintly trembling girl in front of him. “There is no question of right here, only a question of responsibility! It is the responsibility of any man to assure the safety of wendaa, whether they be his own or another’s! Were my wenda to be found wandering this road, for whatever reason, I would most certainly wish her to be returned to me, so that I might strap her soundly for placing herself in jeopardy rather than speaking to me of her unhappiness. We will do the same for the l’lendaa to whom the two of you belong, for we cannot leave you here. Tell us their names and where they may be found.”
“Why must you refuse to understand that we have no wish for your protection and assistance?” Aesnil demanded, trembling harder. “Leave us as you found us, and no others need know!”
“We would know,” the man returned in a remorseless tone, continuing to stare down at her. “From where do you come?”
Aesnil turned away from him and raised her chin high, giving him the only answer she could. When he looked at me I simply dropped my head, not about to give up after what we’d gone through. We might end up right back where we’d started, but not through anything we’d done. I heard a hiss of exasperation escape from the man, his annoyance so strong I actually felt a shadow of it, and then the first man stepped closer to him.
“There can be but one place they come from, denday,” he said, his voice tinged with the same annoyance. “As the bridge spanning the pass downed in the storm, they must surely have come from Gerleth.”
“Indeed,” answered the one who led them, satisfaction showing in his voice at the way Aesnil had started in upset at the mention of Gerleth. The name meant something to me as well, but I couldn’t quite remember what. “As we now ride home to Gerleth, it will be a simple matter to take them with us. Once there, their l’lendaa should not be difficult to discover. ”
“I, myself, will be curious to see the one to whom she belongs,” said the first man, pointing to me. “A wenda such as that, dark-haired and green-eyed, and no more than four-banded? Perhaps he will accept an offer for her.”
“Perhaps he will,” allowed the second man, also looking down at me. “Yet surely not before he punishes her for her foolishness. Let us continue on now, for the day grows no longer. ”
The one identified as their leader turned back to his seetar, leaving Aesnil to the rider who had caught her and me to the l’lenda who was anxious to meet my owner. Aesnil kicked and fought as she was lifted to the l’lenda’s saddle, but all I could do was think about it. The broad, well-muscled l’lenda lifted me from the road with no effort at all, laughed softly as I moved feebly in protest, then boosted me up to his saddle.
“Were you not so fatigued, I believe you would prove yourself to be even more spirited than that other,” he murmured as he quickly mounted behind me. “I will be sure to speak with him to whom you belong, for spirit holds a great attraction for me. ”
He put his arm around my waist as we began moving up the road again, and I thought about where we could be going to keep from thinking about what attracted the men of that world. Everything seemed to attract them, as long as the everything was female and still breathing. Aesnil and I were a couple of wrecks, dirty, wrinkled, unkempt, sweaty and exhausted, but that didn’t seem to matter to the Rimilian male libido. We were female and alive, and therefore attractive.
I was so tired, I stared at the suddenly appearing branch road with surprise, wondering how I could have missed it on the way up. I didn’t recognize it until we had turned off onto it, and Aesnil had tried slipping out of the grip of the man holding her. The branch road led downward and widened, and only when the direction had finally come through to me did I remember the road Aesnil had identified as leading to the lands of enemies of hers. It was the second branch road we had passed on the way up, and between the downgrade plunge we had taken on seetar-back and the wild, thoughtless rout we had indulged in after encountering the virenjj, I hadn’t known we’d passed it a second time. The l’lenda holding me tightened his grip, pulling me against his chest, but I still lacked the strength to do more than stir. Enemies of Aesnil would be enemies of mine, and that wasn’t the best of times to be taken to them. I’d need hours of sleep before I had my strength back, and I could only pray that I would get it before the first encounter.
The road ran down and around the mountainside away from the direction in which we’d been going, and we rode on for a short while with no one speaking and nothing untoward happening. I fell into a light sleep against the chest of my l’lenda, something that pleased him so much I could feel the faint tendrils of the emotion in his mind. One minute we were moving sedately along in the late afternoon heat, me nodding, and then we were pulling up short to keep from running into a large group of men coming the other way around a curve at a much faster pace. The second group also slowed immediately, and the leader of our group made a sound of recognition.
“Well met!” he called, urging his seetar ahead to the van of the second group. “It was my intention to stop at the palace, and now I need not take the time. Ferran, as commander of the palace guard, you are aware of much that occurs in our towns. Has there been word spread about concerning the disappearance of two wendaa, one four-banded and the other five-banded? We encountered these two on the road above, alone and unprotected. ”
“Missing wendaa?” the man addressed as Ferran frowned, looking toward Aesnil and me. “No, Hiddar, I have heard of no such thing, nor do I know of a man in our towns who possesses a wenda such as that. Her dark hair and green eyes would have been spoken of by every man who saw her. You must excuse us now, for we ride with purpose and in haste.”
“Hold,” came another voice from the middle of the second group, stopping the man Hiddar as he was about to gesture his men out of the way. “What is this of a dark-haired, green-eyed wenda?”
The voice that had spoken had somehow sounded familiar, but the denday Hiddar spoke again before I could place it.
“We have found a dark-haired wenda on the road above, accompanied by a wenda less distinctive yet none the less striking,” Hiddar answered, craning his neck around to see into the mass of men. “Do you know of these two? Who speaks?”
“I speak,” said the ticklingly familiar voice, and the men began moving aside to let him through. “I am Dallan, drin of Gerleth, and I do indeed know of those two. The dark-haired one is she whom I intend banding, and other is my dearly beloved cousin.”
I could see him clearly then, his eyes directly on me, but I still couldn’t believe what I was seeing. In front of me was Daldrin, my servant-slave from Aesnil’s palace, now called Dallan, Prince of Gerleth!
6
I had been awake for some time, but I hadn’t been able to get out of the wide, comfortable pile of bed furs. After a good long night of restful, peaceful sleep I was no longer tired or hurting much, but I still hadn’t been able to get up. The reason for my laziness was a thin silver collar and chain, one end of which was let into the smooth stone wall above my bed, the other end of which was around my throat. I’d pulled at the stupid thing, trying to force it open, but I’d seemed to have run out of luck. I was chained right where I was wanted, and there wasn’t much chance of getting loose.
I moved in annoyance to the accompaniment of chain tinkling, looking around the room again. It was a wide, bright room, but the combination of stateliness and barbarism made it incongruously unreal. The walls and ceiling were of a beautiful, polished marble, the tall, ribbed windows to the right gracefully matching their dignified presence. What didn’t match quite as well were the multicolored silks hanging on those walls and around those windows, the thick fur carpeting dyed a bright red, the piles of multicolored cushions, the small, carved-wood tables. The imposed decor spoke of the sort of people who had imposed it the sort of people who imposed their will on everything they touched.