“Terril, what ails you?” he demanded, holding me close to the warmth and strength of his chest. “That you lie is clear to any with eyes, for you do indeed fear me. What has brought this sudden fear to you, a thing you felt nothing of when last I saw you?”
“It . . . is not you I fear,” I answered raggedly, clinging to his warmth with pathetic desperation. “It is this world that I fear, a world where I am nothing, and the men of this world, to whom I am nothing. It is they whom I fear, not you.”
“Ah,” he said, his amusement strong enough to be felt and heard. “Then I am not to be feared for I am not a man of this world. Is it that you consider me from another world, or simply not a man?”
“You seek to ensnare me with words,” I protested, stirring uncomfortably in his arms, relieved to know he wasn’t feeling insulted. “Were you not a man, I would scarcely feel as I do when held by you. You asked the reason for my fear, and I attempted to speak of it. As you feel the need to ridicule me, I shall not speak of it again.”
“Wenda, you are overly sensitive.” He laughed, patting my bottom through the sheer silk covering it. “I do not ridicule you, for what is foolishness to one is true fear to another. I do, however, doubt the fullness of your words rather than their content. It is neither this world nor its l’lendaa which you fear, and I would know the full truth of your feelings. What has been done to you that you now find yourself filled with fear?”
“Naught has been done that has not been done before,” I answered, suddenly feeling the need to try pushing out of his arms. “Release me now, for I would rid myself of this terrible garment as soon as possible.”
“I think not,” he said, holding me against him without effort, his eyes still on me. “The garment pleases me, and will please me for some time to come. Speak to me of what has been done to you.”
I looked up at him, seeing the determination in his eyes as well as feeling it in his mind. I’d been told that I’d wear the silk until he had the answer he wanted, but my feelings weren’t something I could talk about in exchange for a simple favor.
“Then I shall ignore the garment,” I shrugged, trying to make him believe my disinterest without nudging him with my mind. “I am sure to find it less terrible the longer it is upon me.”
“That remains to be seen,” he said, his amusement obvious. “You may attempt to ignore the garment if you wish, yet I shall not. ”
His arms were suddenly gone from around me, and then I was being drawn closer to the pile of cushions by one arm, to be left about three feet from them while Dallan went to seat himself among them. He kept his eyes on me the entire time, and once he was leaning down onto one elbow, he grinned up at me.
“I find the sight of your loveliness enhanced by that silk rather stimulating,” he said, his mind putting out an increase of the growling hum that had not at any time subsided completely. “Turn about so that I may see all of you.”
I stood there in front of him, feeling his eyes touch me all over, finding it impossible not to know how I looked to him. The silk which did no more than color my flesh teased his senses, luring his mind to the memory of the sensual, perfumed softness of my skin, calling to him to put his hands on me again—and then go on from there. I knew all that as well as I knew my own feelings, and I couldn’t turn around in front of him, exciting him even further—I couldn’t!
“Turn about, wenda,” he repeated, his voice still soft but beginning to harden with annoyance. “Or must I go for a strap?”
His words hit me with the shock of cold water, waking me up to the memory of where I was, what sort of man I stood before. He was Rimilian, just like all the others, no different, no better. Jerkily, with more than simple reluctance, I began to turn, moving woodenly until I was facing in his direction again. I tried to keep my eyes away from him, but suddenly he rose up in front of me, filling all the space in my view from much too close a distance.
“Wenda, what has been done to you?” he demanded, putting his hands on my arms to keep me from moving back away from him. “The humor in you has turned to dust and ashes, leaving little more than a hollow shell. I will hear what befell you since we parted and I will hear it now!”
I didn’t understand what his complaint was, but I also couldn’t resist being pulled back to the cushions with him, to sit beside him and be held up against him. I discovered that my shield had closed tight around my mind, as though I’d be protected from him that way. I laughed briefly and bitterly at myself for being a fool, but didn’t send the shield back to nothingness.
“You may begin from when you told your l’lenda what assistance you had been to him in his escape,” Dallan said, holding me close as he began stroking my hair. When I didn’t answer immediately, his hand paused in its stroking and he demanded, “You did speak to him of it? You did not foolishly allow him to continue believing you moved in Aesnil’s cause?”
“He . . . learned of it without my speaking of it,” I admitted, unable to resist leaning my cheek against Dallan’s chest. “If he had not, I would not have told him. I wanted naught of gratitude for services rendered. ”
“And is this what you received?” he prompted gently, stroking my hair. “Gratitude for services rendered?”
“He was . . . pleased that I had not betrayed him,” I said, closing my eyes. “Again he professed his love for me, in such a way that I nearly believed him, and then . . . and then your parting message was brought.”
“At which he grew angry,” Dallan murmured, a statement rather than a question. “Was any part of his anger given to you?, ,
“No,” I answered, remembering how my mind had cringed away from that towering rage. “His anger was for you alone, that you had dared to do and say what you had. Afterward, he five-banded me.”
“I see,” he said, and that was all the comment he made. “How is it, then, that you are now four-banded? You could not have removed the fifth band yourself?”
“I had no need to,” I said, my voice lower than it had been. “A . . . a thing happened between us, and then he came to the decision that I would be filled with greater happiness as the belonging of someone other than he. It was a firm decision, for he took the fifth band and made offer among Cinnan’s dendayy, seeking one who would band me. I was pleased at his decision, yet displeased with those he offered me to, therefore did I decide to flee from the palace with Aesnil and thereafter return to my own people. They will greet me warmly upon my return, accepting me as I am, once again giving me my place among them. I will not miss this terrible world nor its heartless l’lendaa, nor ever think of them again.”
I believed that, I really did, but Dallan’s arms tightened about me as though he thought I needed comforting. He was silent for a long moment, his lips to my hair, and then he sighed.
“Ah, wenda; are you able to find naught save pain in your life? For what reason would a man unband one such as you? What was this . . . thing between you and this man who calls himself l’lenda? In what manner did you anger him?”
“In the manner most natural to one such as I,” I choked, pushing away from his chest so that I might look up at him. He had immediately assumed that the fault was mine, just as everyone on that world did, and there was no reason to disillusion him. “I attempted to control his mind, to make him bend to my will, to obey me in all things! He discovered my attempt and repulsed it, then beat me for daring to touch him! I was forbidden to touch any other with my mind, and when I disobeyed I was beaten again and yet again! He finds great joy in beating me, that l’lenda, yet now must find another to give him joy for I am no longer there. I am here, frightening and sickening another, who will soon take his own turn at beating me! How long will you feel safety in your efforts to guard against me, eh, l’lenda’? How long before you, too, seek to give me to another?”