An Oath to Mida

2 A male to be given to—and an encounter in the woods

Returning to the light and pain was not pleasant. Mere breathing restored the agony, and my fingers grasped the cloth beneath them in desperate reflex, wishing the darkness to return. No darkness came, therefore I attempted to move myself on what I lay, to perhaps ease the pain in such a manner. A grunt accompanied my effort, and immediately was a hand placed upon my head.

“Lie still!” came the sharp voice of Phanisar, a surprising amount of unsteadiness to it. “You are conscious too quickly, wench. It would have been a greater kindness had you remained insensible.”

My eyes opened slowly to the sight of blue cloth beneath me, and in a moment I saw that the cloth covered a platform called “bed.” Once before had I seen such blue in such unvaried amounts, and clearly then did I know myself to be in the sleeping room of Galiose, though I knew not why. The silk beneath me was cool and smooth, still possessed of the faint odor of a male. My hair was no longer tied about my throat, but lay piled above my head upon the cloth of the platform. All these things was I aware of but partially, for the raging of my back denied other sensing. The hand of Phanisar removed itself from me, therefore did I turn my head to relieve the pressure upon my bruised left cheek, thereby bringing the males into view. Phanisar stood closest, tall and grayed in his lengthened green covering, the silver sign of an opened eye upon its chain about his neck. Sharply did his dark eyes touch me, strong disapproval upon his long, thin face, and beyond him stood Galiose, still adrip from Mida’s tears. The High Seat also inspected his handiwork, for it has been truly said that should one wish a thing done, one must also find the will to look upon it.

“Far too excessive,” muttered Phanisar in his disapproval, his gaze unblinking. “Blessed One, the thing should not have been done. A wench is not a man.”

“Never was it meant to reach such a pass,” said Galiose, also in disapproval. “The lashing was to have ended when she cried out begging it. The stubborn she-lenga refused to cry out.”

Galiose grew angry at this further disobedience of mine. I had not wept and begged release as I should have, therefore was the fault of the lashing mine. Unbidden, the laughter began in me, at first a chuckle, then rising and swelling to great gasps and roaring, covering me with amusement without humor. The pain in my back increased as the laughter gained in strength, yet was I unable to halt it. Phanisar came quickly close, as did Galiose, and achingly then did my head ring as Phanisar slapped my face. As quickly come was the laughter gone, and barely was I able to lean my head from the platform before my stomach emptied itself upon the blue floor cloth. Over and again did all heave from me, till at last it was done and I was able to lean back from the vile roundness below and close my eyes. No strength does the lash leave behind it, no more than a trembling in the limbs, a quivering in the soul. I lay still, wishing it were possible to halt the need to breathe for a time, and again a hand touched my hair.

“I have sent for a salve,” came Phanisar’s voice, moving my hair away from my back. “Once applied, I shall also give you a potion for sleep.”

Again his potions. Had I been able, I would have thrown his hand from me. “I wish none of what males offer,” I whispered, pained. “Keep what you have for use upon each other. I did not ask to come here. I do not wish your aid.”

Deep silence greeted my words, and from it came a dizziness to surround me so that I fairly fainted away.

My wrists were bound with leather when I next opened my eyes. Still I lay face down upon the blue silk, yet had my wrists been bound, separately, to the metal of the platform. Never shall I find ease upon a platform, for the proper place for taking one’s rest is upon sleeping leather, flat upon Mida’s ground. No more than an ache was there left from the lashing, therefore did I attempt to free my wrists from the leather.

“Lie still,” came a voice, yet this time was it Galiose rather than Phanisar. Then came a creak, as of one rising from a seat, and heavy steps approached me. Galiose came to view upon my left, and no longer did he show the signs of Mida’s tears, though the sound of them came clearly from beyond the window. Briefly he studied me, then folded his arms across his chest.

“You must lie as you are for some time yet,” said he, “for Phanisar would see the salve undisturbed. With his permission shall you be unbound.”

“I would be unbound now,” said I, of a sudden aware that my hair was held well away from my back by some device. “I do not care to lie here so, nor do I wish my hair as it is.”

Annoyance flickered across his broad face, and he looked at me sharply. “You shall remain as you are till Phanisar wishes otherwise,” said he, his voice nearly a growl. “How long have you been war leader for your wenches, girl?”

“Nearly three kalod have passed since I slew her who was war leader before me,” said I, wondering why he would know. “I do not wish to await Phanisar’s pleasure, and would . . . ”

“You shall not be released!” he snapped, greater anger growing within him. “Too long have your word and your wishes been unopposed, and such bodes not well for a female. Men have little patience for willful wenches, and a female would be wise to recall the fact, should she wish to avoid punishment!”

“I see little reason to associate with males other than with a sword,” said I, my annoyance growing at his. “Does Galiose still refuse to meet Jalav so?”

“Galiose regrets having met Jalav in any manner!” he shouted, fists on hips. “On the morrow shall you be given to Nolthis, a Captain of my Guard, who is foolish in no way save that he wishes the possession of a she-lenga! Then, the Serene Oneness willing, I shall be rid of you!”

“Jalav shall not be given to a male!” I shouted in return, pulling at the leather. “Jalav and the Hosta shall ride free!”

“Jalav goes to Nolthis,” he repeated, his anger grown deep and cold. “Inala and I shall pass the darkness elsewhere, for I would not have her disturbed seeing you so. For some cause beyond reason, my woman has a fondness for you. My chamber is now yours.”

A final glare did he send before moving from the platform, and then came the sound of a door aswing, interrupting his footsteps. My fury at his words lasted till I recalled my earlier intent, then I groaned most feelingly. The lashing was to have been to a purpose, and now had my foolish tongue seen the purpose undone. Galiose would not take his eyes from me till his male had come, and as surely as Mida ruled her warriors would the High Seat then caution his male to do as he did. Ah, Mida! Is there no way for you to silence your warrior when silence would be best? Perhaps by use of a hand to mouth, as Ceralt had so often. The thought had not come by volition, and quickly did I banish it. No longer had I to think of that male, for he was truly gone. Telion had said so, and no call had Telion to lie. Ceralt was gone, and soon Jalav, too, must be gone. I heard the door swing, yet none entered, therefore did I know that Galiose had left one to see that his word was obeyed. I had thought upon the wisdom of chewing through the leather which bound me, yet now would the effort prove wasted. Mida’s tears continued to strike the window in anger, yet was there naught save weariness within me. I rested my head upon the blue silk, and awaited what would come.

Despite all things, the darkness passed most rapidly. Sleep would not stay from me, though I yet lay upon the platform, and no more than a single time did I waken to the ache in my middle. The pain passed quickly, and again sleep took me, allowing no time for thought. Then was there a hand at my hair, and my eyes opened to see the leather and metal of a male quite near. My hair fell free once more, and the male backed a step or two, the better to study me. Large was the male, of a size with Galiose who was also present, possessed of gold-hued hair worn long and bound, green eyes astare at me where I lay bound upon the blue silk. Faintly did I recall the male, having seen him about the dwelling of Galiose, yet I knew him not. Heated indeed was the look he gave to me, yet I turned my face from him in complete disinterest. A chuckle came, and the faint creak of leather.

“High spirited, as I knew,” said a voice, presumably that of he of the gold-hued hair. “She shall be a source of amusement and delight. My thanks are boundless, Blessed One.”

“Do not be hasty with your thanks, Nolthis,” came the voice of Galiose, dry and annoyed. “The wench is completely undisciplined, and stubborn beyond belief. May you have more success with her than Ceralt had.”

“I am not Ceralt,” came the reply of the male Nolthis, with amusement. “May I take her now?”

“Aye,” replied Galiose. “She will be sore from the lashing for some time, yet there is little reason for her not to learn what manner of man she is now the possession of. Phanisar would not have her worked overmuch till her back has begun to heal.”

“I shall see to it,” said Nolthis, and then were there hands by the leather at my wrists. The leather was removed from the metal, yet left upon me, and then was I pulled from the platform to my feet. There was some slight dizziness in such abrupt movement, as well as familiar pain, yet I gave sound to none of it. Straight did I stand before the grin of Nolthis, the leather to my wrists in his large hand, his eyes arove about me. Behind him, past the window, the tears of Mida continued to rage, yet was his laughter unaffected by it.

“I have wished possession of this wench since first I saw her,” said he to Galiose, his eyes unmoving from me. “See how her black eyes flash with hatred and challenge. Those long legs carry fire between them, those large, jutting breasts were made for a man’s teeth, that face was meant to be tear-covered, begging a man’s favor and mercy. So do I wish to see her, and so shall I see her become. It will not take long, Blessed One.”

Galiose made no answer, his broad face expressionless, his eyes seemingly lacking the pleasure he no doubt felt. The male Nolthis was his choice, willing to give that which Galiose would see me have, yet was Jalav no city slave woman. Jalav would be free of Nolthis, and gone from the Mida-forsaken city. No further did Nolthis speak, and with a bow for Galiose he pulled me from the room by my leather-bound wrists. Through the corridor to the steps was I taken, Nolthis’ stride forcing haste upon me, and then down the steps to the lowest level of Galiose’s dwelling. Upon this level, I knew, were the places of many males, the males of leather and metal bound to Galiose. To the left of the steps Nolthis went, and great was the amusement of those males we passed. With laughter they hailed Nolthis, remarking upon the sight of the wench hurrying in his wake, and to all he replied with a laugh that the wench hurried to her first proper bedding. The leather was knotted too tightly upon my wrists to allow me to free myself, and so was I taken by the male Nolthis to that place which was his.

The room revealed by the swing of the door was not large, muddy reds and blues and greens and browns darkened still more by the lack of brightening light from the window. Here and there upon the floor cloth lay discarded coverings, weapons belts, strapped footgear, and the like, well-tended weapons alone covering the walls. Much did I wish even one of the weapons within my grasp, yet was such a wish idle. Quickly did Nolthis slide a bar of metal across the door to prevent its swing, and then I was pulled to his sleeping platform, where his foot cleared a space upon the thinning floor cloth. With various sized pots and soiled coverings aside, I was forced to my knees upon the floor cloth, and quickly were my wrists bound behind me.

“We have some hind yet before I must report for duty,” said this Nolthis with a grin, straightening from my wrists and beginning to remove his covering. “I shall not take the time and begin slowly with you, for too much time has already been wasted so. Within a matter of feyd shall you obey me completely, for I shall have little patience with you.”

I made no answer to the male, fighting the fury within me silently, so that I might find myself unbound the sooner. Instead, I attempted to regain my feet, but this was contrary to the will of the male. With his foot, he knocked me to my side upon the floor cloth, and then was he free of his covering. Broad and hard was his body, scarred with marks of battle, and eager indeed was his maleness for Jalav. Quickly was he upon the cloth beside me, and his muscled arms nearly brought a gasp from me as they circled my back.

“Still feel the lashing, do you?” he chuckled, his hand going to my clan covering without removing it. “A good lashing it was, too, and well deserved. I shall have to procure a lash for my own use, should the need arise. Best you hope you never earn it, wench, for a lashing at my hand will not be as light as that which you received from the High Seat.”

His fingers moved below my clan covering, teasing my blood to stirring, yet I felt a quivering of another sort within me. Not again was I willing to face the lash, not again did I wish the agony of its touch, yet was I possessed by one who would joy in its use, one who was eager to see me writhe beneath it. Within my soul a wail began, and the face to whom the wail called was not that of Mida.

“I have heard that you wenches made practice of capturing men and using them for your pleasure,” said Nolthis, his hand leaving my body to slowly remove my clan covering. His green eyes looked close upon my face as he spoke, and my covering gone, his hand returned to my body. “I do not care for the sound of such,” said he with a grin, “therefore shall I show you that your pleasure is no longer of consequence. You are not yet ready to receive a man, therefore shall the lesson be sharp.”

On the cloth was I forced flat upon my belly by him, and then were my hips raised. In such a manner was I first taken by him, his hands hard to my breasts, and naught save pain did he seek to bring to me. My body, unknowing, attempted to respond to his, yet was this not as he wished. No response but resistance did he seek, his strong fingers clamping tight to my nipples to force upon me the need to attempt escape. There was no escape from his driving maleness and determined hands, though in desperation I made the attempt, and much amused was the male by the actions he produced.

“Good,” he panted, moving upon me with strength. “Try your will against mine, wench, and learn that much sooner that my will shall prevail. Now shall you be shown another thing.”

His maleness left the place he had brought to heat, and then was I stabbed at in another place, a place no male had ever gone to before. In pain and shock I cried out against such use, yet he forced himself within me with laughter. No escape was there from such shaming and pain, no escape from his raucous laughter, no release from the burning need he had begun. The male found full release where he battered against me, not once but twice, yet no relief was I vouchsafed. When sated, he lay back upon the cloth by me, his fingers toying to increase the aching need he had brought, his chuckle filled with full satisfaction.

“I knew the fire burned within you,” said he, his other hand holding to my arm to keep me within reach of his fingers. Moaning was I in my need, yet no interest had the male in such. “The fire shall continue to burn, till I see fit to extinguish it,” said he. “Come closer now, wench. I would sample the taste of you. ”

Easily did he pull me to him, so that his teeth and tongue might touch me. No breath had I left in the gasping he produced, and I could not resist the feelings he forced upon me. The moaning would not cease, and when he placed me upon him as he lay upon his back upon the cloth, I attempted to take his reawakened manhood with me, yet he prevented, such with great laughter. The hairy belly of him pressed to mine, he kept me from his maleness with his fists in my hair, disallowing more than the faint touch of its end against me. At first, he allowed me to believe I might attain my goal, watching as I, bound tight in his leather, writhed about upon him, yet had he no intention of allowing me to take him. When the strain grew too great upon him, again was I thrown to the cloth upon my belly, to be used as previous, in a manner which gave pleasure solely to him. At long last was his play done, and when once again he was within his coverings, I could not look upon him. Never had I felt such hate for another, never had I so wished to see a male’s blood paddled at my feet, to be spat in and left for the children of the wild to relieve themselves in. I lay upon my right side upon the thinning cloth, knowing naught save pain, my knees pressed close to my chin, the male’s laughter heavy in my ears.

“Such will have to do us for now, my lellin,” said he from where he stood, buckling on his swordbelt. “Later I shall return to continue with your lessons—and my own pleasure. Let us make certain that you shall not fly from my grasp.”

With such words he fetched further leather with which to bind my ankles, and then he placed a length of it about my throat, the other end of which was knotted to the metal of his sleeping platform. With a final pat was I left so, bound near to choking, to await his return. No slack was there in the leather, no edge was there to cut it upon, no strength had I to fight its confinement. No more was I able to do than listen to Mida’s fury beyond the confines of the room, and ask how I had this time failed her. Truly must her anger with her warrior be great, to allow such a male as Nolthis to possess her. I prayed that the capture was no more than punishment, a matter to be endured till at last it was done. In no other manner would I allow myself to think of it, for I was Hosta, and Midanna. I closed my eyes more tightly and held fast to the memory that I was yet Midanna.

Three further feyd did I pass with Nolthis, each worse than the last. The tears of Mida continued to fall, which brought him quickly to a foul humor. His hand lashed my face harshly when I refused to beg his favor, and little liking had he for my lack of speech to him. Much of the time was I unbound and loudly challenged to try my strength with him, although Mida taught me that my strength was not meant to match a male’s. When I did not try him, he laughed aloud and threw me to the cloth, there to use me in the manner he most preferred. Once, I attempted to reach a weapon, a thing he had taunted me to try. I had no hope of reaching it, yet had the trying been necessary, for much did I wish to send the accursed male to Mida’s chains. When caught, I was beaten with the swordbelt I had nearly had in my hand, a thing which brought such ill to my unhealed back, yet I cared not. As I still wore my life sign about my neck to guard my soul, the thought came that perhaps the male would succeed in ending my life, an action which would free me from his capture. No more than pain unending was there from his touch, and high grew my hatred of all things male.

Dark had come upon the third fey when at last he left me, bound as always, with a parting kick. Much displeased was he that duty called him to the ways which ran with mud from rain without halt, and in his displeasure had he much shamed me. Though I gave him not the full satisfaction he craved, still was I continually shamed at his hands, treated as less than slave. Never had he used me upon his sleeping platform, saying comfort was not for the likes of me, yet there had he taken his rest as I lay bound in leather upon the cloth. No word did I dare to speak to him, for surely had I allowed myself free rein, again a lash would have touched me.

Upon the third fey, I lay in near darkness with but one small candle left aglow, and gave thanks that the male would not return for some hind. Only then and when he slept was I free to do no more than breathe to my own urging. Upon that instance was breathing somewhat difficult, for again was the leather knotted tightly about my throat, yet was breathing so preferable to the presence of the male. No sound was there but that of the rain for a number of reckid, and then I heard the slow swing of the door. My eyes closed, thinking the male had returned to torment me further, yet was there naught save the sudden indrawing of breath, and a moment later was a gentle hand placed upon my shoulder.

“Jalav!” came a voice I knew even in a whisper. “What has been done to you?”

My head turned and my eyes opened to the face of Inala, she who had once been slave in Ceralt’s dwelling, she who was now chosen woman of the High Seat—and free. Small was Inala, as are all city slave-women, and possessed of dark hair and eyes, yet large were her eyes as she looked upon me, and filled with horror.

“Jalav, what has he done?” she gasped, moving aside her long, slave-woman’s covering of green so that she might kneel beside me. “Your face—and your back has not yet even begun to heal! I shall fetch Galiose at once!”

“Inala!” Though I was capable of no more than a croak, the word stayed her. Quickly she returned to my side, and took my face gently in her hands. “Inala, if you would aid me,” I whispered, “do not fetch another male to my sight. A dagger hangs upon the wall by the door. Should it be your wish to free me, such would serve.”

But a moment did she stare in upset, and then she was gone, immediately to return with the dagger. In three strokes was I freed, and shakily did I raise myself to sit upon the cloth. My wrists were marked from repeated use of the leather to bind me, as were my ankles, but that was nothing beside the constant burning of my back. Again Inala studied me, and then she hastened to fetch the pack she had brought and left by the door. Within was a large leg of roast lellin, cuts of nilno, dark bread still warm, and a small skin of renth. My stomach knotted at sight of the provender, and quickly did I fall upon it.

“Slowly, Jalav!” Inala cautioned, her hand upon my arm as she sat beside me. “Has he kept food from you as well?”

I took a moment to drink from the skin before I made reply. “No food was I given, yet twice was I made to drink of the slave gruel. ” My eyes went to her shadowy form where she sat, looking upon me with pain, and a thought came. “Inala,” said I. “For what reason have you come here?”

Her indignation grew, and her small shoulders squared. “I came knowing Galiose a fool!” she flared angrily. “Often have I asked his permission to visit you, yet has he refused, saying Nolthis had asked that his training of you not be disturbed and undone! Nolthis assured us all that you were well and healing, and that you had begun to obey him! Perhaps a man may be told such fantasies, but not I! This darkness I determined to visit you, and awaited no more than the departure of Nolthis.” Again her hand came to my arm, and tears showed in her eyes. “Jalav, are you able to forgive me for not having come sooner?”

Small amusement was there in the place of Nolthis, yet such brought something of a smile to me. “Inala, my sister,” said I quite softly, “I merely thank Mida for allowing you to come as soon as you have. And you, also, do I thank for touching me with your thoughts.”

The eyes of Inala filled further with tears. “Ah, Jalav,” she sighed. “How may I not think of you? Has not my freedom come about solely because of you? Am I to allow the memory to slip from me—as though it never was?”

“Such has occurred many times previous,” I murmured, gazing upon the provender with regret. No more than a hand of tastes had I been able to take, yet the renth did best by warming and invigorating me, therefore I pushed the provender away, yet retained the skin. I sat cross-legged upon the cloth, for long had it been since I had been able to do so.

“Jalav,” said Inala, “much has occurred since the arrival of the Silla. Would you hear of it?” At my nod, she composed herself to speak further. “No other clashes have occurred between Silla and Hosta,” said she, sober-faced, “yet all believe that once the weather clears there shall be further battle. Galiose intends to instruct Nolthis to bring his well trained Jalav to speak before the Hosta, bidding them to accept the Silla as sisters, and such, I believe, is the why of his taking the word of Nolthis. Galiose craves control of the Hosta through their war leader.”

“He shall not have it,” said I, drinking again from the skin. “Jalav would stand before Mida in shame sooner than betray the Hosta.”

“Galiose does not understand,” said she with a sigh of sadness. “No woman has ever dared to disobey him. Even I—” Again she sighed, and then she shook the thought from her. “In any event, the Silla are not pleased to find themselves in Ranistard, and wish only the opportunity of meeting with the Hosta with weapons in hand. Galiose thought to impose his will upon the Silla war leader, yet has the one who was looked upon as war leader in some manner departed from the city with perhaps ten others, having taken the lives of a number of men in their going. The weather does well to cloak one’s movements, and the Silla are not without skill.”

Wordlessly I nodded, thinking upon the Silla. Less than faith are the Silla trash, yet are they not unskilled.

“The Hosta have been disciplined for the incident of the feast,” continued Inala. “None may appear in public now, save upon a leash held firmly by her man. Many have felt the leather for their doing, yet harshest has been Fayan’s lot. Galiose has once again freed Nidisar, and has given her punishment to him to see to. Nidisar proved unreluctant to accept the commission, and Fayan was most upset.”

Inala’s eyes seemed disturbed, but that was not unexpected. Ever and again is the spear cast, and at each new cast is one’s lot in life in peril of abrupt reversal. Such was known to Fayan, yet had she acted as circumstances demanded, thinking naught of future consequences. In such a manner must all Midanna conduct themselves, meeting action to circumstance, for easily might they be beside Mida before a consequence might presume to touch them. I offered the skin for Inala’s use, yet she refused it with a shake of her head.

“There is one further matter which is most disturbing,” said she, large dark eyes upon me. “Galiose does not speak of it, yet has his sleep been marked by it. Telion has not left his house since your lashing, and has not replied to Galiose’s order to attend him. He does not refuse the order, he merely ignores it, and Galiose seems loathe to press the matter.”

“Galiose, by his actions, should have been Hosta,” I remarked, and then rose to my feet. Much of my strength was still lacking, but the renth had aided me to attempt that which must be done.

“You now leave Ranistard,” said Inala, gazing up at me from where she sat. There had been no questioning to her tone, for she knew what I must be about.

“There is Mida’s work yet to be done,” said I, looking about. “Should Mida smile upon her warrior, I shall one fey return. ”

“In truth?” asked she, rising also to her feet. “I would not care to believe that we should never see one another again. ”

Most anxiously did the small female stand, looking to me for an assurance that she would find herself able to believe. I smiled in memory of our odd, short friendship, and placed my hand upon her shoulder.

“We shall surely meet again,” said I, “for Galiose has not seen the last of me. Once he called me a trial imposed upon him for his sins, and such shall I prove myself to be.”

At her smile of amusement, I walked to where my clan covering lay, thrown aside by Nolthis three feyd earlier, and donned it. Clan colors give a Midanna a sense of belonging, the knowledge that her sisters shall ever stand by her side. In clan colors do Midanna enter battle eagerly, for they fight to Mida’s glory and to the glory of their clan. No sword was there in Nolthis’ place, therefore I took no weapons save the dagger, which Inala had used to free me, placing it in the leg bands about my right leg. Snuggly did the dagger fit so, and so it should have. For many kalod had I worn a dagger so, before the coming of the males of Ranistard. A long length of leather lay in a corner, seemingly forgotten by Nolthis, and such did I also take, for there were yet the walls of Ranistard to scale. As I turned from coiling the leather, I saw that Inala had replaced the provender and the renth within the pack.

“You must eat upon your journey,” said Inala with a smile, “and no need is there for you to begin upon uncooked meat with such as this available. Care for yourself, Jalav, for I feel that your journey will not be an easy one.”

She looked upon me with true friendship, and such did I also feel for her. Small city slave-woman though she was, easily might she have been welcomed as true Hosta. I placed the coiled leather within the pack, and then looked upon her most sternly.

“Speak to no one of your coming here this fey,” I ordered as war leader to warrior. “Galiose would not be quick to forgive such an action, and Nolthis would surely seek revenge. Should you find yourself at the mercy of Nolthis, with Galiose, in his anger, uncaring, little comfort would the thought of my freedom bring you.”

A shiver made her small frame quiver, and a brief look of fear crossed her features. “I had no thought of the matter in such a way,” she replied unsteadily. “I shall be sure to say naught of my visit.”

One last time did we each place a hand upon the other’s shoulder, and then I took the pack and went toward the door. It’s swing revealed the darkened corridors free of life, therefore did I see Inala upon her way before taking to the shadows. Upon a previous occasion had I left the dwelling of the High Seat unobserved, but the difficulty then was slightly greater. None were there about within the pink stone of the dwelling, no other foot trod the blue floor cloth, yet when I had passed sufficient torches in silver sconces and sufficient blue silk upon the stone of the walls, the window twice left ajar was ajar no longer. Firmly had it been shut against the tears of Mida, and firmly did it remain shut against my efforts to open it. Nearly had I decided to seek another means of egress from the dwelling, when my eyes fell upon a small bit of metal upon the window. The metal pushed down against the window, refusing it movement, and no further effort than a touch of a finger freed the window from its grasp. Easily, then, I climbed through to the bushes without, and no longer saw Jalav a captive to males.

Long was the way to the vicinity of the city walls where they nearly touched dwellings which might be stood upon, and much difficulty did I find with the tears of Mida. Cold and penetrating were the rains, immediately soaking my clan covering and hair, and quickly setting me to shivering. Never before had I felt rains of such a coldness, for beyond the Dennin river to the south was the air sweet and warm, the rains gentle and refreshing. The north held much cold within it, the rains contained small bits of ice, and my back howled from coming in contact with such. Some protection did my hair provide, yet not enough to bring an easing of pain, and with difficulty I pulled myself and pack to the metal-topped city walls, and thence to the ground below. Nearly did I meet the ground more quickly than I had intended, for the rains turned the leather slick and difficult to hold, yet the knots I had placed within the leather proved themselves worthy, and at last I stood in rain and darkness, without the walls of Ranistard. Regretting the need to take the time, yet nevertheless taking it, I coaxed the leather down to where I stood, then moved away from the city of hate.

The driving rains disallowed even Hosta eyes to see what lay about, yet had I memory of the area from when my warriors and I had gone seeking the third of Midas Crystals. Many hind travel to the south lay the forests which stood between Ranistard and Bellinard, and such was the direction in which I wished to travel, yet would it be unwise to be found in the open, should Nolthis come upon kan-back hunting me. I, afoot, would have little chance of remaining uncaptured, and surely would the males ride directly south in pursuit of me. Wiser would it be to walk north, to the beginning of forest there, for in that direction safety lay no more than a hin or two away. Easily might I observe Ranistard from there, for the gate lay clear to its view, and should the male Nolthis ride forth, I had only to await his return to begin my journey in greater peace. So had I seen the matter, and so would I see it done.

Many hind was it before I had attained the first of the trees. Keeping true direction in the raging storm had proven well nigh impossible, and quickly had I lost all sense of where I stood. My strength, far from adequate, had imposed a further burden, and surely would I have been completely lost had not Mida lit the skies before me in an instant of anger, showing that the forests I sought lay well to the left of my direction of travel. Cold, wet, aching and weary, I stumbled toward my briefly revealed goal, and at long last were there the looming shadows of giant trees about me. Some distance farther did I force myself before I sought shelter, and then Mida truly smiled upon me. In the darkness and rain, I tripped upon an unseen obstacle, and slipped to my hands and knees in the mud. Unsure of whether I possessed the strength to rise again, I put my hand out to the trunk of the tree beside me, discovering a small hole in the trunk, with hollow behind it. Easily had the rains found all beneath it, yet was the hollow surprisingly dry, offering shelter from the elements. No sooner had I lain myself upon the ground in the hollow, than all things faded from sensing.

The sounds of the children of the wild roused me, and achingly I peered out of my shelter to see that the rains had ceased, and a thin golden light streamed down through the trees. The light stood close to its highest, and by that did I know that I had not slept, but lay unconscious the time. Hosta do not sleep past first light, yet had I lain as though dead the while, and perhaps such was not far from truth. Still did I feel the cold most sharply, and to my greater pain had some strands of my hair attached themselves to my back. With one motion, I wrenched them free, then groped with shaking hands for the skin of renth, and drank deeply. Then, and only then, was I able to force myself to feed upon a small bit of the nilno.

At last I crawled from the hollow, marking its location as I looked about, for there had I left the pack, and there would I return come darkness. In no way had my strength grown, as I had hoped it would, however that could not deter me. Ranistard had not been watched as it should have been, and such would delay me yet further. Feyd must I now spend watching for the return of those who might have already gone, yet perhaps the time might be spent restoring myself. The way to the lands of the Midanna was long, and no easy trek would it prove to be. Best I begin when most able, for many of the children of the wild give no more than a single chance at survival. Only those who are able may take advantage of the chance.

To my surprise, I found that I had come farther into the forests than I had at first thought. Marking my way as I went, I began to search for the forest’s edge, for all track of the previous darkness had been washed away by Mida’s tears. The feeble glow of the light did little to warm me as I went, and little did I know how deaf and blind I had grown in the city. No more than three hands of reckid did I move through the trees before they stepped out to view, surrounding me without my having had the least idea of their presence. Two hands of Silla warriors were they, and one who had not yet had the silver ring placed within her left ear, though she stood nevertheless as war leader. Swords they wore, and daggers, and each carried a slim-shafted spear such as males of the cities were fond of. I had only a dagger in my leg bands and little taste to appreciate the pleasure of battle. The Silla grinned in pleased anticipation, weighing spears in hands, yet I only folded my arms beneath my life sign, awaiting an indication of their intent. Silla were not known for their love of single combat, yet the possibility of such remained. Should it be Mida’s will, still might I enter her realm with sword in hand.

She who was war leader in place of Zolin stood perhaps seven paces from me and studied me with something of a smile upon her face. Red of hair was this Silla, of a red like that of Larid, and eyes also of a similar blue. Her height did not match mine, yet was she far from the puniness of city slave-women. Full Midanna was the Silla, well-versed in the weapons she wore, proud of the red of her clan colors. A moment did she study me, and then she laughed in full amusement.

“You looked well beneath the lash, Hosta,” she called, causing her warriors to join her laughter. “Hosta are fit for naught save the lash of males—or Silla swords. Should you have followed us to betray us to your city-male masters, you shall not live to do so.”

“Jalav is no slave,” I called in return. “All save Silla have the wit to know this. I come to the forests upon my own affairs.”

The Silla’s face had darkened at my words, then she snorted. “City slave-women such as the Hosta have become do not belong in the forests,” said she, her head held high. “For whatever reason you have come, Helis will see that you regret it.”

She began to gesture to her warriors. “Should Helis wish true leadership of the SilIa, she may choose to face Jalav,” I called.

The attention of all centered upon me, and more firmly did they grasp the spears which they held. No closer than four paces did any of the Silla stand. Helis gazed upon me sober-eyed and stiffly, for Zolin had been a warrior of repute, and great would be the fame of Helis among the Silla, should she slay the one who had bested Zolin. Surely did I know that I would not survive such an encounter, for I was not as I had been when I had faced Zolin, yet I could not choose simple slaughter above holding a sword in hand once more. Helis continued to study me a moment, and then she drew herself up.

“The Hosta are well known for their empty boasting,” said she in disgust. “Never would Zolin fall before one such as you, and there shall be payment for the suggestion! Yet I choose to be generous. You may have your throat opened upon the instant, as the low sednet you are, or you may walk the lines. Choose!”

About to demand that Helis face me, I saw that all words would be futile. In opposition to her spoken sentiments, Helis did indeed believe that Zolin had fallen before my blade, and therefore had no stomach to do the same. That she would undoubtedly triumph she did not know, and I could not inform her of the fact. Perhaps alone she might have been swayed to place a sword in my grasp so that she might say with truth that we had faced one another, yet with these others about, the effort would indeed be futile. Angrily she stood, awaiting my decision, yet little choice was there to the matter. A Hosta does not seek an easy death, and with the walking of the lines would my fate be placed in the hands of Mida.

“There is naught else to choose save the lines,” I informed the Silla. “Thought you I would choose otherwise?”

Her eyes held mine for the moment, and then she laughed shortly. “Who may know what the Hosta are capable of?” said she, a low grin upon her face. “At the end of the lines shall I await you, Hosta war leader. Come to me if you are able.”

Then she stepped back a bit farther as her warriors moved forward to form the lines. Two hands of Silla warriors were they, one hand to each side of the aisle formed between them, their leader placed at the far end, awaiting me with folded arms. A pace before Helis was a sword placed, point in the ground and hilt up, also awaiting me. Should I survive the walk well enough, the sword would be mine to take, and then might I earn the honor of death in battle. No matter of survival was the walking of the lines, yet was it a means of choosing the manner of one’s death. A warrior strong enough would die with glory, yet had my strength been severely drained. Only through Mida’s will would I find myself able to reach the sword and Helis, yet are not all things done through Mida’s will? As the Silla warriors lowered their spears, I prepared myself to meet them.

“Begin your walk,” called Helis from the far end, and in truth there was naught else I might do. To the lines of waiting, grinning warriors I walked, and then slowly between them. The first warrior on my left chose to put the point of her spear in my left thigh, the warrior on the right choosing my right arm. The touch of sharpened metal was full, true pain to my body, and nearly did I stagger as the spears were removed, giving free run to my blood. The second warriors in line reversed their choices, and the golden light danced before my eyes, rippling in a cadence with the beat of my heart and the pain washing over me.

“Excellent, Hosta!” called Helis with a laugh, as I nearly went down to the touch of metal in my sides. “You are almost here, and have but four more spears to pass!”

Still could I see the sword I so desperately wished to reach, yet it seemed to recede with each step I took. My blood flowed swiftly to Mida’s ground, for though the wounds were not meant to kill, neither were they gentle, meaningless scratches. A spear entered my right calf, breaking my staggering pace, and then I fell, coming to Mida’s ground upon hands and knees. The Silla laughed in deep amusement as I gasped for breath which would not come, crawling toward the waiting sword, and those toward the end urged me on in turn, their prodding nearly unfelt in the vast agony surrounding me. Mida’s light glared in my blurring vision, damp and stony was the ground beneath me, uncaring was the breeze upon the wet of my wounds, and then had I nearly reached the sword, my sweat mingling with blood and dirt. No more had I to do than put a hand out to claim the sword, yet I was unable to lift the hand. My red-stained, straining fingers grasped the dirt as I attempted to force my body to my will, yet no farther could my body go. Slowly I collapsed to the ground entirely, the sword completely beyond my ability to possess it, and the Silla laughter came strange and distant to my ears.

“A pity,” said the voice of Helis, a voice which echoed about the swirling mists before my eyes. “Now must the Hosta be ended without glory, though truth to tell, I believe she may already be ended. Linid, see if there is yet life within her, and if so, remove it with your dagger.”

No steps did I hear approach me, yet a hand touched my throat, seeking sign of life. That I yet lived would not long continue as a state, yet no touch of a dagger came. Naught was I able to see through the mists, little did I hear; I suddenly felt abandoned, and then the ground trembled to the urging of many hooves. I knew then that a large force had come, sending the Silla to the cover of the trees, yet I was unable to know to whom the force belonged. In my heart, I wished it to be sister Midanna, come to free the Hosta from the grip of Ranistard, yet the mists swirled too thickly for my senses to pierce them. Too low had my strength gone, too faint was the spirit yet within me, and then I felt the touch of hands, by the size and shape of them, male hands. A laugh bubbled in my throat, knowing the males too late to once again possess Jalav, too late to attempt to work their will upon her. A murmur of deep voices came, no words clear to my hearing, and then Mida came, to wrap me in final darkness.