“But why?” I asked in anguish. “What have I done?”
“You have done nothing,” he answered, his calm completely unchanged. “A slave may be beaten for any reason or no reason. Why do you not run from me?”
“How can I?” I asked miserably “You’ve tied me so I can’t move.”
“But surely this is something you are familiar with?” he pursued in a reasonable tone. “If you are slave and chained, it is never possible for you to run. And you are also always beaten terribly without reason. Is this not so?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it again and bit at the inside of my lip. I knew damned well that he had never tied me up like that before, and that’s why I’d been able to run away from him. And I had to admit that the switch, though it hurt awfully never did more than bruise me a little. I felt the barbarian waiting for something, and I sighed. “All right,” I grudged, staring down at the dirt and grass at the edge of the veranda. “You’ve made your point. But I still don’t like wearing bands or getting switched.”
“The bands are necessary and you will grow used to them,” he answered with satisfaction. “The switching you may avoid simply by obeying me. I do not give you orders for my pleasure, wenda, but for your safety. You do not know the hazards of this world.”
He threw the strap away then reached down to unclip my ankles. I waited for him to do the same for my wrists, but it didn’t happen. Instead, his hand stroked me again.
“Now what are you doing?” I asked in exasperation. “I want to get up and get dressed.”
“There is no need for haste,” he murmured, turning me over in his lap so I could see his grin. “Know you that I have seen slave women taken by the Hamarda made to serve their masters well. I would teach you the way of this, so that should you someday find yourself true slave, you will know what is required of you.”
At that point I didn’t know what to say, but words were entirely unnecessary, and truthfully I was speechless anyway. I’d thought I knew something about male-female possibilities, but those Hamarda were totally unbelievable. The barbarian swore that the slave women always had their wrists chained behind them, but he was enjoying himself too much to be overly concerned with the truth. When I nearly had hysterics he relented and removed the clip, then comforted me in a more conventional manner. I wasn’t exactly comforted, but it was a good deal better than hysterics.
Much later, the barbarian had my ankle in his hand and was trying to tickle the bottom of my foot, when I felt something unexpected. I listened hard to make sure, then leaned up on my elbows.
“Someone’s coming,” I told him quietly. “From that way.”
He was on his feet and reaching for his haddin and swordbelt so fast that I blinked.
“How many?” he asked calmly while dressing himself. “How far are they?”
“There are two.” I answered, “and they’re about five minutes or so away A man and a woman.”
He nodded without taking his eyes from the direction in which I’d pointed. “I shall greet our visitors. Do you go now and dress yourself.”
I suddenly realized that I was stark naked, and people were coming! I hurried to the pack that held my imad and caldin, then went into the camtah. By the time I had everything tied that should be tied and went back out again, the people were riding into the camp. The girl rode behind the man on his seetar, a pack seetar following along after the first. The man was grinning broadly and so was the barbarian.
“Aldana, Tammad,” the man said in greeting. “This camping place brings an unexpected surprise. I am pleased to see that you have returned—and in time for the Ratanan.”
“Aldana, Faddan,” the barbarian answered. “It was always my intention to be at the Ratanan. This Great Meeting shall see changes.”
“My sword is yours, denday,” the man said simply, acknowledging the barbarian as his leader “May we share your camp and join you on the journey home?”
“Of course, Faddan,” the barbarian said pleasantly. “Do you step down now and set your camtah beside mine. We may use the time of this day to dry from the rains. Have you hunted?”
“Not this day,” the man answered, swinging the girl down to the ground and dismounting himself. He was nearly the size of the barbarian, but the girl was more my size. They seemed to grow men larger than average on that world. Both newcomers had blond hair and blue eyes, and the girl stood quietly behind the warrior. She wore imad and caldin, but in bright patterns rather than solids like mine, and he wore a dark green haddin. The girl glanced over at me, and I could see the gleam of a bronze-colored band on her neck.
“I have peral,” the barbarian told the other man, “also dimral against further rains. Your wenda may join mine in the preparation of it. I shall build a fire the while you see to your camtah.”
The other man nodded and led his seetarr over to ours. He paused to examine the two seetarr-that the barbarian had acquired, smiled slightly then began unpacking.
In no time at all, the fire was blazing and the second camtah was up- A large carcass, like the one we’d cooked on the last nonrainy day, was already cut up. The barbarian produced more of the wrapping leaves, and the other man gestured to the girl. She went to him and he stood her in front of him, putting his hands on her shoulders.
“Tammad, I would have you know my wenda,” Faddan said quietly. “She is called Doran, and I would ask the denday to honor me.”
“Gladly will I do so,” Tammad answered with a grin. “Doran, you are lovelier than your name, and the honor is mine.”
The girl smiled sweetly and looked up at Tammad. “The denday shall have to earn his honor” she quipped. “I am not minded to agree with Faddan.”
The two men laughed and Faddan shook her slightly “Your agreement is not necessary wenda,” he said, trying to sound stem. “This is a matter between I’lendaa! Go you now and see to the dimral.”
“My wenda shall aid her,” the barbarian said, and all eyes immediately turned in my direction. “She was a gift to me from her father, whose land lies far beyond the house of the offworlders. They know nothing there of the banding and training of wendaa, nor are our customs understood by them. It will require a good deal of teaching, but I shall one day see her a proper wenda.”
“A glorious gift,” Faddan murmured, examining me with his eyes, his mind full of approval.” Dark-haired and green-eyed. And one such as she went unbanded?”
“Unbanded and living as she would,” Tammad nodded. “It is a land of darayse, and though many sought her, she accepted none. Her father despaired until my appearance, then contrived to send her with me upon my departure. Her look pleased me, else I would not have taken the bother. She is called Terril.”
“An odd name,” Faddan mused, “yet one that suits her. Though she be five-banded, denday, she will draw the eyes of many men.”
“This is known to me,” Tammad agreed with a shrug. “It shall make little difference as the wenda is now my belonging. See to the dimral with Doran, Terril.”
The two men turned away toward Faddan’s camtah and the girl came over to me, staring curiously. We put two pieces of the dimral on sticks, and when the meat was in the fire, her curiosity turned vocal.
“Are wendaa truly unbanded in your land?” she asked, and I could feel her disbelief. “How, then, do men know if they may have the wenda they see?”
“The men ask.” I told her, studying the five bands she also wore. “If the man pleases her, she accepts him. If he does not please her, she sends him away.”
“How may a wenda send away l’lenda?” She laughed. “You are no larger than I, perhaps even smaller. Should Faddan displease me and I attempt to send him away, his laughter would sound out for all to hear.”
“The men of my land are better than l’lendaa,” I answered, feeling my tone going stiff. “They need not be forced to leave. If they are not wanted, they go of their own accord.”