“Here, wenda, drink this and you will find yourself somewhat restored,” he said, handing me the goblet with a smile on his handsome face. It was delicate golden wine rather than drishnak so I sipped at it, ignoring the metallic taste imparted by the goblet in the same way I ignored Rellis’ hand at my hair. He, in turn, was ignoring Dallan and Tammad, who stood stiffly in the center of the room, Dallan the very picture of outrage. The amusement in Rellis’ mind showed he was more than aware of them, but when Tammad spoke he was still surprised.
“Your purpose has, for the moment, been achieved, Chamd of Grelana,” the barbarian said, his usual deep calm evident in his voice. “It would, however, be wise of you to avoid too great a proximity to the woman in an attempt to prolong that purpose. Her ability to interest a man is never intentionally exercised, and therefore far more potent than it otherwise would be. To believe yourself immune would be foolish self-deception.”
“Would it indeed,” Rellis said, looking over at the barbarian with a good deal of annoyance touching him. He resented being spoken to like that, but he’d also taken his hand from my hair after only a brief hesitation. “And who are you, l’lenda, to address a Chamd in such a manner? You are clearly not from the land hereabout.”
“I am Tammad, denday of the city of Thriving Near the River’s Bend,” the barbarian responded, folding his massive arms across his chest. “Among the membership in the Circle of Might, I speak first.”
“The Circle of Might,” Rellis mused, the faint frown creasing his forehead matching the one Dallan wore as he stared at Tammad, “I have heard many thing concerning the leadership of the cities of the plains and forests and their Circle of Might, yet not that they had chosen one to speak first. He who occupies that position is a man to be reckoned with, for he has the l’lendaa of five and twenty cities at his disposal. Does your Circle now mean to ride in conquest?”
“Our Circle is far more concerned with the well-being of our cities,” the barbarian said, his calm deepening. “We have been contacted by offworlders who wish to build a complex on our world, and we have demanded many gifts and concessions to allow them their desire. To halt their intentions would be impossible, therefore do we strive to protect and strengthen the peoples of our world, so that we will one day find ourselves able to face them as equals in the mysteries of their knowledge and devices. To see one portion of our world fall to them through weakness, would soon mean the rest following in turn, our cities among them. It is for that reason we mean to demand the needs and desires of all, not merely our own; to do otherwise would be to set out upon the road which leads to self-destruction.”
“I salute the wisdom of your Circle,” Rellis said, a hand to his face as his mind considered what he’d heard. “It would indeed benefit each of us to see our entire world strengthened, yet it would undoubtedly mean the end of our way of life. I am a warrior as my father was and my sons are; what is to be the lot of the sons of my sons and their sons after them? To see them as shopkeepers and merchants and scholars, never knowing the feel of a sword in their hands, would sour and sicken the life I have so far found so sweet.”
“Such a thing need not be,” Tammad said, his voice filled with understanding. “There is one world among those of the outworlders filled with those who look upon themselves as warriors. They are called Kabras, and it is to these Kabras that the darayse of the outworlders go when there is a battle they wish fought with their enemies, for they have neither the stomach nor the skill to face their enemies themselves. All fear these warriors called Kabras yet are they warriors in name alone, rarely finding it necessary to raise weapons as true warriors would. I have among those who follow me one of these Kabras, one who longs for true battle and who will therefore school us in the manner in which we, ourselves, may offer our swords and protection as the Kabras now do. Those of our world who wish to remain warriors will find themselves fully needed, and perhaps find the opportunity of extending our sway to worlds not our own. The Kabras have made no attempt to claim that which they win through the strength of their swordarms; what need is there for us to emulate them to so great an extent?”
“What need indeed,” Rellis chuckled, delighted with the idea Tammad had grinningly presented. For my own part I was appalled, listening to them calmly discussing conquering the other more peaceful and civilized worlds of the Amalgamation. I now knew the use the barbarian intended putting Garth to, and I wished I didn’t. I swallowed the last of the golden wine in a gulp, nearly choking, unintentionally bringing myself back to the attention of Rellis.
“I fail to understand what occurs here between yourself and my son,” the Chamd said, losing most of the pleasure he’d felt. “How does it come to be that you stand in contention over this wench?”
“The woman was bought by me from the outworlders,” the barbarian said, moving his eyes to me where I sat holding the empty goblet.
“They are all darayse and did not dare refuse my demand for her, instead eagerly accepting the offer of payment I made. She left me once, thinking I no longer desired her, and it was necessary for me to follow after her and carry her back. She was allowed to do as she pleased among the darayse she comes from, therefore is she willful to a large degree as well as the possessor of a strange power. She was stolen from near my camp by savages, sold to a tribe of the Hamarda, escaped from the Hamarda, and taken up by the Chama of Grelana, who wished the use of her powers to serve her own ends. It was there, at the palace of the Chama, that your son discovered her. Though we were each of us held as slave, he in the palace, I in the vendra ralle, our paths never crossed. Once we had attained our freedom, however, we were also free to face one another, which we earlier attempted to do. With the woman present and unrestrained, the effort was the farce you saw.”
“Held as slaves, did you say?” Rellis demanded, suddenly outraged. “Dallan, were you truly made slave by your cousin Aesnil? What of your brother?”
“Seddan was enslaved as well,” Dallan said, a tightening evident in his jawline. “I, held in the palace, faced no more than the whips and kicks of the guard. Seddan, however, was sent to the vendra ralle, where it was necessary that he fight in defense of his life. He was wounded in his final encounter in the ralle, and wounded again when we fought to regain our freedom. I lost no time in bringing him home at battle’s end, and now he rests in his apartment, regaining health and strength beneath the eyes of our healers. He will again be as he was, though through no thanks to Aesnil.”
“I find your tale incredible,” Rellis said, staring at Dallan as his anger grew. “You and your brother were merely to have paid your respects to Aesnil, visited a short while, and then returned home. Did one or the other of you give her insult, that she had you enslaved?”
“We refused to go to our knees before her,” Dallan answered grimly, his left hand resting on his sword hilt. “The gesture was demanded of us to counter the ‘arrogance’ we showed when first presenting ourselves before her. Seddan laughed and called her a foolish girl-child, and the next instant her guardsmen had been set upon us.”
“There must be an accounting for this outrage,” Rellis fumed, keeping himself from jumping to his feet only by the strongest effort of will. “I will visit her myself, and . . . . ”