Less than a minute passed in the privacy of the hiding place I had made for myself, and then the fur was pulled away again, letting in the light. The darkness behind my closed eyelids wasn’t enough, but I couldn’t take the cover back, and my hands were pulled away from my ears. After that there was a broad chest to be held against, but the gesture brought more agony than comfort.
“Hama, do not be tormented by that which you have done,” the barbarian said, showing that it was he who held me. “There are none about who would have condemned you had you this time let me die, I least of all. Do not fear that you will regret your goodness.”
“What is it that you speak of to my sister, denday Tammad?” Dallan asked gently, as though he purposely stood in the background of the conversation. “It strikes me as odd that you seem to believe her actions might have been other than that which they were. For what reason should she have withheld her assistance?”
“For what reason should she have given it?” the barbarian countered, his voice so even that the bitterness barely showed. “Time and again I beat her for having used her powers on those about her; would it not have been fitting had she obeyed me at last and allowed my life to be forfeit?”
“Perhaps,” Dallan murmured. “Are you filled with regret for having done her so?”
“No,” Tammad growled, Unconsciously tightening his hold on me. “I regret none of it—save the one time I allowed anger to take me. It was for her own sake that I punished her, and for the love I feel for her, yet I succeeded in teaching her no more than fear. Of what worth is a man, who is able to teach no other thing than fear?”
“I see that you, too, have dreamed,” Dallan said, and somehow I had the impression he was amused. “In what manner do you see that you have taught her no other thing than fear?”
“When first I claimed her she was a burning flame,” the barbarian whispered, barely loud enough to hear. “Her arrogance was full, and yet the life within her was the same, bright and sharp and requiring all of a man’s efforts to meet her. You saw, in the mountain, what she has now become, what I have made of her. She trembled and recoiled in fear, filled with terror at my presence; but a moment ago she hid from the sight of me, no doubt at the urging of a similar terror. Even now her eyes remain tightly closed, and she holds her body as far from mine as possible. Sooner would I have lost my life than to have done such a thing to the woman of my heart.”
His words ended in an ugly croak, the sort of sound that comes from swallowing down tears. I still felt too ashamed to look at him, but the importance of my feelings dwindled when I realized how painful his were. What he believed was a lie, and I couldn’t walk away with a lie left between us.
“That isn’t true,” I whispered, touching him gingerly for fear of hurting the open whip cuts that covered him. “It isn’t you I fear, just your anger. And only when I’m guilty; only when I’m guilty. ”
Which is most of the time, I added bitterly to myself. I do as I please and expect to get away with it, and when I don’t I find someone else to blame for what happens to me. Taking the easy way out is a life style for some people; I had never thought I’d be one of the group.
“What does she say, Tammad?” Dallan asked, and when the barbarian had translated with confusion and puzzlement in his voice, the drin of Gerleth chuckled. “The truth is of great importance to one such as she, my friend, and I somehow believe we have not heard the entireness of it. As you fear no more than the denday’s anger, my sister, and then only when guilt is yours, for what reason did you fear him in the mountain?”
“For the reason of guilt,” I answered, relieved to finally get it said—no matter what they did to me. “His accusation was true, for I did indeed force you from me, despite your belief to the contrary. It was—necessary to me that I do so, no matter that you would find my reasoning foolish. To me it was more necessary than foolish.”
“I see,” Dallan said, his words failing in the thick silence coming from the barbarian. “And the reason for your having hidden yourself but a moment ago? Was that equally as foolish?”
I found myself adding my own oar to the silence, more than reluctant to discuss the way I felt. Is it possible for any male, especially a Rimilian male, to understand about being hurt like that? Do they ever feel anything more than outrage over their territory having been invaded, or pure confusion and puzzlement? Can they know what it’s like, even if it should happen to them?
“Perhaps it may be considered equally as foolish,” I said at last, still looking at neither of them. “It has, at any rate, nothing whatsoever to do with fear. Cowardice, perhaps, yet not fear.”
“I had not realized you understood the difference between cowardice and fear,” Dallan said, his tone now approving. “There are those who believe the two the same, yet this has no bearing on our true discussion. I feel certain I know the reasons behind this foolishness you speak of, which surely links two separate actions. Was it not the same thought which caused you to force me from you, and also to hide yourself at mention of the intruder’? Am I mistaken in believing so?”
I couldn’t quite bring myself to answer him as I slowly pushed out of the barbarian’s arms to sit alone. I didn’t know what point Dallan was trying to make, and I couldn’t check his attitudes any longer to find out; hell, I couldn’t even look him in the face. All I felt was very tired, and I wished he would finish up whatever he was doing and let me go back to resting.
“What is this belief you speak of?” the barbarian asked, his voice at least neutral if not yet returned to its usual calm. “In what way might these things be linked?”
“The matter should be as clear to you as I find it,” Dallan said to the barbarian, but there was no accusation in his tone, only faint surprise. “My sister has spoken to me of the barbaric beliefs of her former people, and the torment she has felt when faced with our civilized ways. Surely, when these things were spoken of to you as well, you saw—that—”
Dallan’s speech came limping to a halt, and I could just imagine the expressions surrounding me. They’d exchange information, get a good laugh out of my “backward” point of view, then hopefully go on their way and leave me alone. Without opening my eyes I groped for the covering fur I’d lost a short time earlier, found it and pulled it to me, then just sat there with two fistfuls of covering at my throat.
“I have been told of no torment faced by this woman,” the barbarian said, and he did sound accusing. “Little has been told me concerning her beliefs, save for her belief and that of her people that she is to be allowed her will in all things. This cannot be the belief you refer to.”
“Nor is it,” Dallan agreed with a heavy sigh. “You are unaware, then, of her feeling that to be used by any man save he to whom she belongs is a great shame, shaming her also in the eyes of her chosen. Had I not seen her wracked by this torment with my own eyes, I would scarcely have credited it.”
Again there was silence, undoubtedly cram-packed with all sorts of overtones and undertones, and then a gentle hand came to my shoulder.
“Terril, is this true?” the barbarian asked very softly. “For what reason was I not told of this sooner?”
“What need was there to speak of it?” I shrugged, studying the dark gray and red behind my closed eyelids. “Each time I was given as host-gift, I was informed that all choices in the matter belonged to another. To speak of a thing which gives shame is possible only when there is one who is willing to listen with understanding.”
“And such a one was not I,” he said, so flatly that I felt the weight of it. “Even seetarr have proven themselves filled with greater understanding than this one who calls himself l’lenda. I have not done as badly as at first I thought; I have done worse.”