The girl Rapan smirked and picked up the plate, scoop, and goblet, then gestured with her head for me to follow. I took the other plate and scoop and went along, but not happily. Rapan was one of the two who had felt hostility at my appearance, and that hadn’t changed. She still felt hostile, but she was also determined about something. I followed her, wondering what she was going to do.
We went back to the entrance hall, then through the doorway that the barbarian had taken. The doorway was hung with a piece of material, and the material parted to show a large room that was wood-paneled and decorated with weapons. It had long, wide windows, but the windows were barred and could be shuttered. Tall torches hung as yet unlit from sconces on the walls, and what seemed like hundreds of pillows were scattered all over the floor on top of a furlike carpet. The barbarian stood looking out of one of the windows, but he turned when we entered.
“Trejna at last!” he said, grinning at what Rapan was carrying. “I shall not miss the taste of dimral after so long a time with little else. Give it here, Rapan.”
“Aye, Tammad,” the girl said with a coy smile aimed at the barbarian. “I, myself, prepared it for you, hoping it would please you. You have been so long away we thought you had forsaken us.” She handed him the plate, but held the goblet to the side and back away from him as he reached for it, rubbing herself on him as he moved closer. “My father will be here to greet you this night, Tammad. He would not be displeased were you to speak with him of me.”
“And so I shall, Rapan,” he answered, leaning over just a little farther to take the goblet from her. “His switch has too long been kept from its proper use, and he shall know of it.”
“But—you would not!” she protested, feeling a deep upset and frustration. “Tammad, I long to be yours! I would please you more than she whom you have this time banded. I beg you to ask my father for me.”
The barbarian had crouched to set his plate and goblet on a small, very low table, but he stood straight again to place his hands on the girl’s shoulders.
“Rapan, it is not seemly that you speak so,” he told her gently “Your father sent you to me so that you might be seen by my warriors more easily than in his house. He hoped for a good match for you, and had found one even as I prepared to leave on my journey. You shall be banded this night, wenda, but not as mine.”
“I shall not!” she screamed, twisting away from his hands. “I shall go with no other!”
She raced out of the room, anger and hurt filling her so completely that she had forgotten all about me. I sighed for her, then turned to see the barbarian watching me.
“Do you sit beside me as we eat,” he said, folding himself onto a large pillow. “There shall be many warriors here this night, and I wish your presence as well. Tell me, wenda, are you able to know truth from falsehood too in a man?”
“Sometimes.” I answered, sitting on a pillow near his. I wasn’t used to the angle, and almost tumbled off it onto the floor. His control was masterly-not a trace of the vast amusement he felt reached his face. “But there’s no need to try being diplomatic.” I added. “Your laughter is something I can always feel.”
“I but remembered my experience with your chairs.” He grinned, leaning over to the small table to scoop up some of the stew. “Each man does best with his own belongings about him. This night you are to read my warriors, wenda. I suspect a follower of my enemies is among them, but each has been with me too long to be lightly accused. I would be pleased to learn that I am mistaken, yet are you to seek earnestly.
“I’ll do what I can.” I shrugged. “If the man feels no guilt over betraying you, or if there’s someone who dislikes you personally but would never betray you, there could be some confusion. Keep the point in mind.”
“I shall,” He nodded. “The final decision is ever mine to make. Why do you not eat?”
I looked down at the plate of stew in my hand, then used the small scoop to try some of it. It was spicy and very tasty, so I began eating. After a minute or two, I looked up again.
“That girl Rapan is in love with you.” I told him quietly “You still see nothing wrong in giving her away to someone else?”
“The girl is very young,” he answered, giving most of his attention to his food. “Yet even that has no bearing. She is not mine to give, wenda, but her father’s, and he, too, knows that what she feels for me is not as deep as what she may one day feel for another. He has made a wise choice for her, and awaited only my return to give her to the warrior who desires her. In this manner, she will not think herself stolen from me in my absence.”
We went back to eating in silence, but I was still disturbed. The giant barbarian was as calm as ever—wasn’t there a woman anywhere he cared about?
He kept his eyes on me until both our plates were empty causing me to grow increasingly uncomfortable under that light-blue stare. I knew he was waiting to say something else, but I had a feeling it had nothing to do with the men he wanted me to read. After the last bite was down, I found I was right.
“Wenda, there is yet another matter to speak of,” he said, and his mind and tone had hardened. “The last switching you received was, as I have said, too harsh. But for that, you would now ache mightily. Never again shall I see you risk yourself as was done this day, else you shall feel my wrath in your deepest parts. Are my words clear to you?”
“But I was in no danger,” I protested, feeling the blazing edges of the wrath he’d mentioned. “That seetar wouldn’t have...”
“That seetar had to step but once to put an end to you!” he interrupted in that cold fury he was so good at projecting. “Best you remember what I have said, as I shall not warn you again! Return these plates now to Gilor, and say that she is to find clean imad and caldin for you. I shall send for you when I require your presence.”
He handed me his plate and scoop, but kept the goblet. I took the things without another word, then went looking for Gilor, finding her easily just outside the curtain in the small entrance hall. She laughed softly and led the way back to the kitchen to get rid of the plates, then again to the hall and through yet another doorway and hall to a large room with sleeping furs in the middle of it. It had pillows scattered around the floor, a tall, barred window and little else, but I was sure the room was the barbarian’s. Gilor closed the room’s door, then turned to me.
“I shall fetch the imad and caldin in a moment,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “First, I wished to ask if you still believe the denday does not care for you. I had thought you to be wrong, and now I am sure of it.”
“And I am sure I am not wrong.” I answered, curious as to her interest. “Nothing has occurred to make me believe otherwise.”
“Heard you not his words?” she demanded in outrage, her fists on her hips. “He does not wish you to risk yourself. Are those the words of a man who cares nothing for his wenda?”
“Those are the words of a man who cares only for his Prime,” I answered bitterly. “Were I to die now, he would be inconvenienced, therefore he threatens to beat me to make me obey him. Yet I, too, care nothing for him or his beatings. I shall do as I please.”
“So you care nothing for him, eh?” she mused, staring at me through narrowed eyes. “I know not the ways of such in your land, Terrill, yet do I know the look of a woman who longs for a man. Your need seems deeper than Rapan’s yet strangely for you wear his bands, more hopeless. This I do not understand.”
“There is little to understand, Gilor.” I shrugged, feeling that understanding was important to her. “He does not see me as a woman, though he uses me as one. And gives me to other l’lendaa as one. I am not accustomed to obeying men, nor am I accustomed to being handed about among them. I shall not allow it any longer.”
“Terrill these are l’lendaa you speak of, not darayse,” she warned. “Have a care as to how you anger them. Tammad will not hesitate to teach you your place.”