An Oath to Mida

3 An awakening—and a tale is told

Strange are the dreams a warrior finds before entry to Mida’s Realm. Much darkness was there, and a sense of searching, for something never found, no more than darkness again appearing. I felt movement, and surprisingly also pain, then the pain receded to throbbing, yet the movement continued. Once I saw the form of the male surrounded by darkness, his entire demeanor one of disapproval and anger, and I laughed at his displeasure, pleased that I need no longer be troubled by males. The form stiffened in anger at my laughter and began to raise an arm in menace, yet was he restrained by another presence, who was amused. No part of the second presence did I see, yet was I made curious by its amusement, and then both male and presence faded from my perceiving. No understanding had I of what had transpired, then the darkness came once more, ending speculation.

At last my eyes opened to find that it was not Mida’s Realm which met my gaze. To accompany the feeling of movement, I saw the wood and cloth of a conveyance of those of the cities, a conveyance which was taken about by kand pulling upon it. Brown and old was the wood, stained and fraying was the cloth which enclosed the conveyance, and great was the creaking as the conveyance protested its movement. Belly down I lay in lenga pelts, the warmth of the long, silky fur keeping the chill at bay, and not far from the pelts I lay in were other pelts, just then untenanted. Wide enough was the floor of the conveyance to hold the two sets of pelts with perhaps a pace between them; I was unable to see the length of the thing, nor anything more. I was disturbed that I had not yet attained Mida’s Realm, yet when I attempted to turn in the furs, surely did I think that attainment was not far from me. Pain and weakness tore at me so, that I was unable to keep from voicing a groan, and then the dizziness came again, bringing with it the darkness.

When the darkness did not recede all the way, I knew that it was not within me, but all about. The conveyance stood at last at rest, and more urgently did I wish to know in whose possession I was. Not those males of Ranistard could it have been, for the city did not lie so far from the woods where I was taken that a conveyance would be needed to bring me to it. Others, strangers, had found me, and faintly I heard the small sounds of the movements within a camp. In determination I moved my leaden limbs, slowly and painfully yet with purpose, till at last I had turned from my belly to my back. No lessening of pain was such a position but an increase, yet I wished it no other way. The first of movements was most painful, yet without the first of movements were all others lost. If I were to escape these males who had found me, a beginning must be made. Lightheaded did I feel, and my insides lurched about, yet had I made something of a beginning.

Once my breathing had slowed, I also made certain discoveries. Bound in cloth was most of my body, principally upon the tracks of the Silla spears, and damp did certain of the cloth seem, as though my blood yet flowed beneath it. A wide, uncomfortable lump beneath my right shoulder proved to be my hair, twisted together in some manner to contain it and all I could do was pry it from beneath me, the action again leaving me breathless. No strength at all had I, with the wounds from the spear thrusts added to my previous weakness. I knew not why I yet lived, save that such was Mida’s will. That Mida was not yet done with her warrior seemed of little comfort, but I was unable to argue the matter. Even had I the strength, Mida was not one who was easily approachable.

In my new position I was able to see the sky, tiny lights atwinkle in the frosty darkness, for the cloth gapped about an opening at the far end of the conveyance. For a number of reckid I lay silent and unmoving among the shadows, my eyes upon the sky, my grasp upon consciousness a frail thing, and then I saw a stronger glow than the tiny lights, which approached the gap in the cloth from without. The leather-clad form of a male appeared.

“What have you done?” snapped the male, looking upon me with severity as he placed a metal-enclosed flame upon the floor by my furs. “As I placed you, so should you have remained! Have you not the wit to know how sorely hurt you are?”

“Jalav asks the aid of no male,” I whispered creakingly, seeing the surprise in his light eyes. “Return me to the care of Mida, and my actions shall not disturb you.”

The male stared, and then his sternness turned to a chuckle of amusement. “By the enlightening glow of the Serene Oneness, you are a handful indeed,” he grinned. “I now no longer doubt your survival, and look forward to the journey to the Snows. Foolish was I to question the signs, for never have they been so clear.” His touch upon my face could not be avoided. “Good,” said he in satisfaction, withdrawing his hand. “The fever is gone, allowing one less matter for concern. Now let us see what you have done to the wounds.”

He moved aside the lenga pelt, allowing the chill to draw all warmth from me, and a frown displaced his amusement.

“Again does the blood flow from three,” he growled, bringing those light eyes to pierce me with disapproval. “I shall change the bandages upon them, wench, and then are you to remain unmoving till they have had opportunity to heal! Do you think you body’s blood unlimited that you waste it in such a manner?”

The cold made me shiver and the male quickly replaced the lenga pelt upon me, then rested his forearms upon his thighs.

“You, I know, are Jalav,” said he, “and now do I see why the sign of you was so fitting. Indeed do you seem a hadat, all teeth and claws and temper. I shall expect no thanks for healing you, just as I would expect none from a hadat, yet shall I expect something of respect and obedience. Though hadat is your sign upon the Snows, you are only female in flesh.”

“Jalav is a warrior,” I whispered, teeth still ashiver. “Even should I survive the walking of the lines, you shall not own me, male. ”

Lightly did he laugh at hearing my words, and his head shook in negation. “You mistake me, warrior,” said he with a grin. “I am merely here to see to your healing and the reading of the Snows. Your ownership belongs to another, one who shall have it no other way. Best you understand that, for his humor has been rather dark of late. He dislikes what the Snows have told him, yet he may do naught save follow their beckoning. Are you hungry?”

Indeed my insides felt as though they touched at all points, yet were there other matters to be discussed first. “I wish naught from males,” I rasped, disliking his grin. “Who is this male who presumes to call me his?”

His grin widened, and he laughed. “The male is one who is fond of hadats,” said he, rising out of his crouch. “He rides now to see to our backtrail with a number of our Belsayah, yet shall he present himself upon his return. First shall I fetch nourishment for you, then shall I change the bandages.”

With those words the male turned from me and left the conveyance, also leaving behind much to think upon. I knew naught of males called Belsayah, nor did I know the meaning of the word, “snows”, which the male had spoken a number of times. Seemingly, the male knew of me, yet how could this be? These thoughts occupied me till the return of the male, who then carried a pot of metal from which the aroma of nilno arose. Carefully did he carry the pot, showing the contents spillable, and then was it brought to me. The meaty aroma caught me so, no resistance did I make to the male’s arm about my shoulder, raising my head for the easier reach of the pot. The taste and warmth of the nilno broth more than compensated for the discomfort. Down my throat it slid, filling my hollow insides, though I was unable to take it all. Much too quickly did I reach the limit of my capacity, and regret was mine when the male had lowered me once again to the furs.

“When you are strong enough to hold meat and vegetables, the healing shall progress at a faster pace,” said he, putting aside the pot. “Now for the wounds.”

From a place behind the other lenga pelts, he took a pot and a pack which proved to contain cloth, and both things did he bring to where I lay. Then he withdrew my left arm from beneath the furs, and began to remove the bloody cloth upon it. Little pain was there till but one layer of cloth was left upon the wound, and then the cloth attempted to cling to the flesh of me.

“Steady,” said the male, compassion clear in his tone. “The rest shall be easier to bear.” Scraping sounds did I hear then, and cool smoothness touched the flaming ache upon my arm. “My name is Lialt,” said he as his fingers did their work. “How did you come by wounds such as these, girl? Never have I seen their like not made by a spear.”

“Indeed it was spears which made them,” I gasped, fighting dizziness. “I walked the lines for the Silla trash, yet was I unable to take the sword.” I spoke of my shame without giving thought to it.

“Spears?” echoed he called Lialt, his fingers unmoving upon my arm. “Sword? What might a female have to do with such things’? And who are these men called Silla who would so misuse a woman?”

Through the dizziness laughter arose within me, thinking of the fury the Silla would feel had they heard themselves called males. “The Silla are not males, but warriors such as I,” I informed Lialt weakly, yet with the remembrance of a grin. “Silla shall ever do a Hosta so when they may, for so would Hosta do them, had we the opportunity. Silla and Hosta be blood enemies.”

“Blood, indeed,” muttered this Lialt, again bending to his task. “Never have I heard of females acting so, and never would Belsayah allow such. My brother must truly be a child of the Snows that he takes such a woman as you for his own. With scores of proper Belsayah women aburn for him—” Abruptly did his words end, and he sighed. “Yet, how may a man avoid his path through the Snows? I, better than any, should know the futility of such an attempt. Brace yourself now, wench, for I must see to the other wounds.”

Again was the lenga pelt moved from me, and his hands banished all thoughts of the cold. The last I saw was his dark head bent over me, a frown creasing his face, and then the light was no more.

I awoke to the jostling movement of the conveyance, the light of the fey having returned as I lay within a darkness of my own. Again was I belly down within the furs, and annoyance touched me that I had been turned so once more. I would know as much as I might of where the males took me, for the return trek would be mine alone. Slowly and carefully, I turned to my back, and this second movement was much the easier. Nearly gone was the pain in my back, and the spear wounds troubled me less as well. Soon would Jalav again be fit to travel, and then would the males seek her in vain.

To my disappointment, there was as little to see upon my back as upon my belly. I moved my toes about within the pelts as I studied the skies, and quickly the sway and creak of the conveyance caused my eyelids to grow heavy. I must have slept heavily all fey, for the next I knew, all was silence about, and the flame within, the metal again approached. As the instance previous, Lialt carried the flame to where I lay, his light eyes examining me closely.

“I know not whether to be pleased or not that you are again awake,” said he with familiar disapproval as he crouched beside me. “Though two feyd have passed since your last awakening, you should not be moving about so. Have I not said this to you?”

Quite sternly did the male look upon me, and easily might it be seen that my position must be made clear to him. Although the male had been of some assistance, I no longer wished the bother of him. With some small difficulty I removed my arm from beneath the lenga pelts so that I might move the pelts away from my face.

“Jalav thanks you for your previous assistance, male,” I informed him with courtesy. “Now shall Jalav see to herself, and should it be possible to return the favor, it shall be done.”

“Shall it,” he murmured, and then he snorted in amusement. “Jalav is far from able to see to herself, wench, and she shall obey Lialt till she is up and about. Let us first see what damage you have done to the wounds, and then we shall see to your feeding. ”

His hands moved toward the lenga pelt, yet I closed my fist about it, disallowing movement. “I have said that I shall see to myself!” I snapped, disliking his manner. “Have you naught else to occupy you that you must remain where you are unwelcome? Leave me, and we shall say no more upon it! The war leader of the Hosta of the Midanna demands to be left in Mida’s peace!”

“No,” came a deep, calm voice before Lialt had found his tongue. “The former war leader Jalav may no longer demand. In future, she shall ask for that which she wishes, and in a proper manner more becoming to a wench.”

Surely did I know to whom the voice belonged, and surely had I known for some time that it was he, yet had I refused to admit my knowledge as I then refused to look upon him. My eyes upon the leather covering of Lialt, I shook my head and whispered, “No!” and then attempted to raise myself from the pelts. Lialt’s large hands were immediately upon my arms, forcing me down, and my small store of strength was uselessly spent.

“She is the spawn of Sigurr, Ceralt!” said Lialt in vexation, astare upon my face. “See how she has paled through overtaxing herself so! This darkness I shall read the Snows again, for surely she cannot be the one they speak of!”

“She is the one,” replied Ceralt, coming nearer to where I lay. Still did I keep my eyes from him, and the cold of the darkness entered me more fully. “She is the one,” said he, “and I knew of it even before the Snows spoke of it to you. How does she fare?”

Lialt made a sharp sound of annoyance. “How may I know?” he demanded. “She will not allow me to look upon her! What is this matter of war leader of which she speaks? What means it?”

“It means naught,” said Ceralt, “for the condition no longer applies. Jalav. Remove your hands from the lenga pelt so that Lialt may see to you.”

My fingers gripped the pelt, holding it to me, my weakness a curse upon my will. Slowly, with reluctance, my eyes raised to him. He, too, wore leather of the sort which Lialt wore, and strange did he seem without the city-male covering of cloth. Such strange feelings did the sight of him bring to me, feelings which a warrior was not meant to know. I shook my head once more and again whispered, “No!” and my meaning was not lost upon him.

“You may not deny it,” said he, crouching beside Lialt. “You are mine, and shall ever be so. Had you not left Ranistard by your own devices, I would have taken you from there.”

Then his hands went to mine and gently removed the pelt from the clutch of my fingers. I had the will to attempt to pull from his grip yet was I even more lacking in strength than usual. Lialt removed the pelt and looked upon the cloth bindings, grunting in approval when no blood was to be seen upon them, and after considerable inspection, he replaced the pelt. Ceralt’s eyes had been upon me as well, the set of his jaw and the tightening of his grip speaking well of his disturbance, and then his eyes moved to mine.

“Never again shall such a thing occur,” he vowed raspingly, my hands yet in his possession, his anger clear. “Not again shall Jalav take weapon in hand, for whatever reason!”

Slightly did I move in his grip and return his lowering look. “Jalav had no weapon in hand,” said I distinctly. “Think you such would have come to be, had I a sword to wield?”

“No sword, no spear, no dagger shall Jalav again touch,” spoke Ceralt, light eyes cold, not to be swayed from his purpose., “Remember my words, wench, for they shall not be told you again.” Then his gaze went to Lialt. “How does she fare, brother?”

“Better than I had expected,” replied Lialt as he studied me. “She heals with a rapidity which is gratifying, though rather difficult to understand.”

“It is the doing of Mida,” I informed him with sureness. “Easily might it be seen that there is yet work she would have me see to.”

The last was for Ceralt, so that he might know that the possession of Jalav was Mida’s alone, yet the miserable male smiled faintly and placed my hands beneath the lenga pelt. “Indeed there is yet work for Jalav to see to,” said he, anod at Lialt. “Jalav shall learn humility, and curtesy of manner, and the ways of the proper woman. And Jalav will also learn the pleasing of Ceralt.”

Lialt’s laughter joined Ceralt’s smile, and the fury rose within me. So sure was the male, so sure that again I might be taken and held by him, yet I clearly remembered that which had gone before.

“Jalav shall learn naught save the return path to the lands of the Midanna,” I choked out in the midst of their amusement. “Not again shall males find opportunity to betray her. Not again!”

“What number of times did the lash touch you?” came Ceralt’s voice, soft with deadly menace. “What is the size of the thing between Galiose and me?”

No answer did I make to him, for Galiose would find himself repaid by my hand, should Mida allow me such pleasure.

“Perhaps it is unwise to speak now of such matters,” came the voice of Lialt. “She has not sufficient strength for memories such as those—which by the looks of her, must be painful indeed. I shall fetch her a bowl of broth, and then she must sleep again.”

“The matter is yours to determine, brother,” replied Ceralt amid the sounds of movement. “She must be recovered before the Snows indicate the time for the journey, else I shall not allow her to accompany us.”

A pause was there, and then Lialt said, “Yet without her presence, the journey shall not succeed. Clearly was this shown me, Ceralt. Should she remain behind, our lives may well be forfeit. ”

“Then it shall be so,” said Ceralt, a final inflexibility to his voice. “Should she lack the strength to survive the journey, she will not go. Her life shall not be thrown away.”

“Many are the lives at stake,” said Lialt with a softness, “yet the decision is yours to make, brother. I may do no more than search out the paths in the Snows. It is your lot to choose among them, and pleased am I to have it so.

With those words did Lialt depart, and strange did such words seem. Was Ceralt not a city male of Bellinard, as all had supposed? For what reason would a male present himself so, speaking not of those from whom he came? Perhaps the male felt shame at his beginnings, a thing truly fitting for males. Midanna felt pride in their clans, and never would they renounce their roots through shame. Soulless did all males seem to be, whether of cities or elsewhere.

Though Ceralt yet remained, no longer was I able to lie upon my side. The spears of the Silla had touched deep in arm, leg and side, and the pain flamed with increased anger as my weight pushed the wounds to the lenga pelt. Reluctantly, I turned again to my back, left hand going to right arm, yet naught did my fingers come upon save the rough cloth which bound the wound. No strength had I left to deny the pain, and it set me begging to Mida for the surcease of darkness.

“In time the pain will ease,” said Ceralt, his voice soft yet echoing the ache, his hand moving to the moisture upon my brow. “Only in childbed was a woman meant to know such pain, for only then has the pain meaning and purpose. I would know what befell you.”

My head, beneath his hand, turned somewhat to find his eyes soberly upon me. Such pleasure had I had from him, the pleasure of his manhood and the simpler pleasure of his presence, yet must I thrust the memory of all such from me, for males were evil and sought naught save the betrayal of warriors.

“Jalav wishes naught of your presence, male,” I informed him huskily, seeking the strength to take my eyes from his broad, familiar face. “No word shall Jalav address to you, no word and no thought. Much would I have preferred to have been left where I had fallen.”

Deep hurt flashed briefly in his light eyes, and then those eyes studied me a moment before his hand withdrew from my brow.

“You are much wounded and sorely in need of rest,” he said quite softly, a small catch to his voice. “We shall speak again when some measure of strength has returned to you.”

Then he rose from his crouch and left the conveyance, his step slow and heavy, his eyes not again turning toward me. Swiftly did I close my eyes to erase all sight of him, yet was there a trembling within me. Naught might a male mean to a warrior, naught did Ceralt mean to me! Pain had the male given me, and betrayal in all things, and none save a fool would allow the memory of strong arms and soft lips to wipe meaning from what had gone before! Weakling wetness seeped from between my closed lids to roll to my cheeks, shaming me by their presence, yet was I unable to stem the flow.

“Has the pain worsened?” asked the voice of Lialt from beside me, startling in its nearness. Large fingers brushed at my cheeks, spreading the wetness, and then his hand smoothed my hair. “The wench Jalav is as brave as she is beautiful,” he murmured in a soothing manner. “Surely so brave a wench will not allow the pain to best her when soon it shall be gone completely? Weep as you must, wench, but do not despair. Lialt will see that you grow well again.”

My eyes opened to see his face but blurrily, and angrily I wiped at the weakling wetness. “Jalav does not weep!” I snapped, yet the words emerged hoarsely, in a whisper. “Warriors of the Midanna do not weep, male, and easily shall I grow strong again without your aid!”

“Certainly you shall,” said he in a manner most conciliatory, his hand yet astroke upon my hair. “Soon shall my aid be unnecessary, yet now must I continue to supply it, for I would not have Ceralt grow angry with me. Come, the broth will strengthen you, and prepare you for the meat which will quickly replace it.”

Again he lifted my shoulders and brought the metal pot to my lips, and in no manner was I able to deny his wishes. My belly ached for the warmth and satisfaction of the broth, and easily might it be seen that I was unable to do so simple a thing as hold the light metal pot. My hands shook in the attempt even as I swallowed all that came past my lips, and Lialt’s voice murmured soothingly and with encouragement, calling me a good, brave girl, and a beautiful wench. Filled with indignation, I attempted to berate him for such terms, yet the broth did not cease to fill my mouth, making speech impossible. At last was the bottom of the bowl to be found, and Lialt lowered my shoulders to the lenga pelt with much of a large grin.

“I am pleased to see that your capacity increases,” said he as he put the bowl aside. “Such is ever a good sign. We shall now put you upon your face again, so that I may tend to your back.”

His hands reached toward me, and my annoyance grew even higher than it had earlier been. The word of a war leader meant naught to males, yet had it been many kalod since any had sought to oppose me, and never had any attempted to order me about. Greatly displeased was I with the way of males, and this, I felt, should be made known to Lialt.

“This back you speak of,” said I, halting the motion of his hands. “Undoubtedly it is your own back you refer to, is this not so?”

A frown creased his face, and puzzlement entered the light eyes of him. “Certainly not,” he replied, his tone filled with lack of understanding. “Have you forgotten, wench, that it was you who felt the lash? The back which needs tending is yours.”

“Ah,” said I, nodding quite soberly. “The back in discussion, then, is mine and not yours. And yet I have no memory of being asked my wishes in the matter. Does this not seem exceedingly strange?”

Closely did I look upon him, and comprehension was not long in reaching him. The puzzlement faded from his eyes, to be replaced with something of annoyance, and wryly did he shake his head.

“I see,” he said, resting his forearms upon his thighs. “Again you seek to be difficult. Have you never been taught simple obedience?”

Again this preoccupation with obedience. All males seemed to be obsessed with the matter, and totally did I lack understanding of their views.

“A Hosta war leader need be obedient to none save Mida,” I informed him, and then looked upon him with curiosity. “Lialt, for what reason does a male ever expect obedience? Never have I demanded obedience from a male, save when he was captive to my clan, yet do all males demand obedience from me. The why of this I am unable to fathom.”

He laughed. “You speak as though you have almost no knowledge of men,” he mused, his eyes upon my face. “Surely your father demanded obedience from you, and taught you that you would one fey obey the man who chose you, as well.”

“I know naught of the sthuvad who served she who bore me,” I shrugged, seeing that my words disturbed him. “A mere captive was he, and gone about his business the moment he found release from the leather which bound him. Such is the way Hosta wish it to be, and your words hold no meaning to me.”

“Nor do your words hold meaning to me,” he murmured with head ashake. “That you have had no teaching from men is clear, yet the why of it is beyond me. However,” and deeply did he sigh, “I shall do my best to explain whatever is unclear to you.”

He shifted from his crouch to sit cross-legged upon the wood of the floor, and then he briefly smoothed my hair before taking my face in his hand.

“You,” said he, as though he spoke to one who had little understanding of our common tongue, “are a young, female member of this our race. With infinite wisdom did the Serene Oneness decree that females must be obedient to males, and so would all men have it. Perhaps when you have grown old and gray, younger men may heed what wisdom you have attained from your kalod of life, yet is such a state far from that which you may now expect. For the moment you are a female child who must learn to obey the word of men, else shall you ever find punishment at their hands. Has the matter been made clear to you?”

So serious did Lialt seem, that I could only laugh. “Such is foolishness,” I informed him with amusement as his hand left my face. “Never have I heard of such a decree, nor would it apply to one who follows Mida. Now do I see it as the foolishness of males, fit only to be laughed at by warriors. My thanks, Lialt, for having given me the explanation which I sought.”

Greatly vexed was Lialt then. “You have heard naught of what was told you!” he growled angrily, his face stern. “The wench before me is no more than that—merely a wench! You shall obey as do other wenches, else shall you be punished as they.”

His anger caught greater confusion within me. “For what reason are males to be obeyed?” I asked. “Why should females not be obeyed in their stead?”

Open-mouthed he stared at me, and then his mouth closed in outrage. “Men are ever obeyed by their women!” he snapped, one hand agesture in vagueness. “Females are empty-headed and filled with nonsense, and ever unable to decide upon questions put to them! Should men find cause to obey females, never would the females have wit enough to direct them properly!”

“What difficulty is there in directing others?” I asked, feeling sure there was some matter still beyond my comprehension. “For three kalod have I directed the actions of the Hosta, and only twice did I find the need to answer disagreement with a sword. Your objections do not seem valid.”

Much pained did Lialt’s expression grow, and his hand ran through his hair in the gesture Ceralt had so often used.

“Never before have I had such difficulty in expressing myself,” he muttered, his head ashake. “I think it best, Jalav, that these matters be discussed with Ceralt, I feel sure he shall find the answers you seek with much less difficulty than I. There remains but one further matter to be discussed between us, and the answering of it should not prove difficult to one of your exalted standing. Your back must be tended if it is to heal properly, and I shall see it tended to. Should you not wish to assist in your turning, I believe we shall both find that I am possessed of more than enough strength to see the thing done without your assistance. I will know this moment how you would have it: are you to turn or be turned?”

Amusement had once again returned to him, yet was I not of a humor to share it. Ever do males see their will done through naught save greater strength, reason finding itself totally beyond them. Bleakly did I look upon the grin he gave me, and had I stood, I would have held my head high.

“Jalav has little choice in the matter,” said I quite frostily. “Yet shall it not ever remain so. Lialt had best learn to sleep lightly. ”

With difficulty, I began to turn to my belly, yet was I able to see the grin fade abruptly from the face of the male as I struggled, and the breath of him drew in sharply.

“By the fetid breath of Sigurr the foul, I do believe the wench has threatened me!” he muttered. No further attention did I pay to his ramblings, for movement proved itself more difficult than I had anticipated. Sharply did the spear wounds stab at my efforts, and I felt the moisture break over my face as I panted and nearly gasped. Abruptly were there two strong yet gentle hands to assist my scrabbling, and then I lay belly down, drained of everything within me, yet untouched by the darkness which would have been most welcome.

“I had not meant for you to do the thing yourself,” said Lialt softly, and then was there a cloth at my face to take the moisture. My eyes had closed of their own, and little desire had I to open them once more, therefore did I naught save lie as I was as that about me slowly returned to awareness with the ebbing of the pain.

Lialt sat upon the other lenga pelts and began to remove the furs from about his legs. Each did he draw from him, then he stood the two upon the wood beyond the lenga pelts. With this done, he stood to remove the leather shirt of him, the belt of metal, the leather leg coverings, and lastly, the leather breech, and easily might it be seen that Lialt was well made as a male. Faintly did my interest stir, as ever is a warrior’s interest stirred at sight of an acceptable male, yet was such interest considerably curtailed by the presence of my wounds. Lialt tossed the breech upon the pile of the other of his coverings, and then his eyes crossed mine as I looked upon him in contemplation. Amusement showed at the corners of his mouth, and he folded his arms upon his broad, dark-haired chest.

“Have I been found acceptable?” he asked with faint laughter in his tone. “I should dislike to think that sight of my body has displeased you.”

“Lialt need have no fear,” I murmured, the shadow of a smile of appreciation touching me. “Should you ever be taken as sthuvad to Midanna, your body shall not displease them.”

With full truth did I speak then, for Lialt was made much as Ceralt was. Tall and broad, firm muscled beneath the dark of his skin, flat-bellied, slim-hipped, possessed of a manhood much in evidence even when unaroused. Easily did I recall the look of Ceralt when first he and his hunters had fallen to my Hosta, the heat that had come to him at touch of my body upon his, the heat that he, too, had caused to rise in me. Before my eyes stood the memory of Ceralt, disallowing sight of all else, disallowing banishment from my thoughts, the light eyes of him holding my gaze as none other was able to do. Again was I touched by feelings which a warrior was not meant to know, and the lenga pelt beneath me became a broad, dark-haired chest rising and falling in rhythm, warm with life, precious by cause of the shortness of the time I had been allowed to hold to it without bitterness. Slowly, I rubbed my cheek upon the chest that was not, and again it was naught save a lenga pelt, warm yet lifeless, too soft and too smooth to be that which I had briefly imagined it. Sight, too, returned, and I saw that Lialt was now between his lenga pelts, having moved himself there without my having seen.

“So you are returned,” he murmured, his eyes upon me as he lay upon his side. “What other did you see when you looked upon me? And where did he take you that you return with such sadness clear in your eyes? Had I my pipe to hand, I would have journeyed with you.”

I looked upon him with little understanding yet did I know that I wished to keep my thoughts my own. Deeply did Lialt gaze upon me, so deeply that surely it seemed he would soon be as deep within my mind, and such was not that which I wished. With deliberation, I pulled my eyes from his, breaking some link before it might grow to strength, and shakily I drew a breath.

“Fascinating,” he breathed, though he made no movement within his pelts. “Few indeed are those who are able to dismiss the demands of my call so. A child of the Snows are you in truth, a fitting mate for my brother. I am now even more pleased that our arrival in your need was so timely.”

Strange, again, were his words, of a strangeness to make my head whirl, but I did understand one thing.

“From whence do you come?” I asked, raising my eyes once more to his shadowy form. “And how did you come to be near Ranistard when you were?” Also did I wish to ask of Ceralt, yet was I unable to speak his name without faltering. Lialt smiled faintly, and then he reached toward the flame within the metal and drew it to him.

“The tale is an odd one,” he said, “yet I shall be pleased to tell it to you—though not with the lamp alight. We are both of us in need of sleep, and should one or the other succumb to its lure, the tale may be completed at another time.”

In some manner did he then open the frame and with his single breath the darkness surrounded us completely. Then came the sound of the metal returned to its place, and Lialt’s voice resumed.

“Nearly a kalod ago,” said he, “the Snows gave sign of a strange insistance. We were told, it seemed, that our High Rider must travel from us, and take residence for a time with those of the south. No understanding had we for the why of this, and none cared overmuch for it, yet were we unable to delay and question. All signs, all indications, insisted that our High Rider leave at once and without explanation. Ceralt asked my estimation of the importance of the journey, and I was able to add naught to what I had already read—he must leave for the south immediately.

“Ceralt was not pleased: however he knew that all men must go as the Snows reveal, therefore did he leave me as temporary High Rider, and take himself off to the south. He chose the city of Bellinard as his destination, for he saw some small attraction in the name—Bellinard for a Belsayah Rider—and naught did we hear of him for some time; then the Snows brought to me a further message—concerning the need of our High Rider.

“Ceralt would require the presence of his riders, said the Snows, and therefore were they to ride at once to the southern city of Ranistard. Yet Ceralt had gone to the city of Bellinard, all protested, wherefore the need to go to Ranistard? None knew, least of all I, yet was I sure of what I had read. Immediately, I mounted fifty riders, and we all took ourselves toward the city spoken of by the Snows, the city of Ranistard, yet was I somewhat unsure of an open approach, therefore did we leave the road for the woods when yet a fey’s ride from our destination. It was then that we came upon Ceralt.”

A sigh escaped him then, almost unnoticed by me, for the soothing sound of his voice had caused my eyelids to grow extremely heavy. No thought was I able to give that which I was told, merely was I able to hear the words and possibly remember them, and difficult was it to resist the softness and comfort of the pelts about me. Afloat in the darkness, the voice disembodied continued.

“Ceralt had been in the woods for three feyd and more, afoot yet attempting to reach the Belsayah. Easily might it be seen that he had been beaten, and all our riders called for the blood of those responsible, yet Ceralt quieted them, saying there was more important work to be done. There was a possession of his yet to be found in Ranistard, said he, and such was he bound to fetch from there, no matter who would stand in his way. I wished to halt for a time, to see to Ceralt’s bruises, yet he would have none of it. No further time did he take then to don proper clothing, and then we were off once more.

“Through the darkness we rode, and through a good portion of the new light, still within the woods, and then we glimpsed that which seemed a group of people. Immediately we turned toward the group, yet they vanished into the trees all about—all save one. That one lay upon the ground, giving her lifeblood to quench the thirst of the soil, and then we learned that before us was the one whom we sought. Ceralt sent two of our riders to purchase a wagon from Ranistard, instructing them to say naught of their origins nor purpose, and when they returned, we began the homeward journey. Shortly shall we reach our village once more, and then must we prepare for the journey spoken of to us so long ago. The journey set in the Snows even before our birth. Much danger. Yet we must go.”

Slowly, Lialt’s voice ceased, and soft breathing spoke of his having been taken by sleep. Warm and compelling were the furs and darkness about me, more compelling than thoughts of that which I had been told. Deeper did the darkness grow, and I, too, was taken as Lialt.