Chosen of Mida

6 Sigurr’s city—and betrayal

Early upon the new fey the forests ended, much as they did about the cities of northern males. Occasional dwellings were spied in the distance, ones belonging to those who grew and raised provender for the consumption of their fellows. We rode on beneath the heat and glare of Mida’s light, the males in high spirits, I remaining silent in an attempt to see what there was to see. More than once were there groups of males to be seen in the distance, many bending to that which grew all about them, some few merely standing and observing the rest. Smaller forms moved about among those who labored, yet was the distance too great to see what they were about. Herds of small beasts to be fed upon were tended in a similar manner, most laboring, some observing, and much did it seem that the lands and holdings were vaster than those in the north.

We made no halt to feed at mid-fey, instead partaking of our provender as we rode, for it was already possible to see the beginnings of the city in the far distance. High was the city, rising above the level of the road in wide, black terraces, a glittering, burning black which stood out sharply against the green of the surrounding countryside and the blue of the skies. No shielding wall was to be seen at that distance, and when, more than two hind later, we began to approach the first of the dwellings, it became clear there was no wall of any sort. The road we had followed suddenly became a way of the city, leading between all manner of dwellings, large and small. Many city folk rode and walked upon this way, choking and crowding it, and quickly were we taken up and smothered in their midst.

“As ever, I am pleased to be home,” said dark-haired Grandyn, looking about himself, “and yet, as ever, it will be a while before I again accustom myself to the presence of so many others about me. The forests are fair and empty, yet they are not home. ”

“The forests are home to Midanna,” said I, wrinkling my nose at the smells which now assailed us. So long had it been since we had left Bellinard, I had nearly forgotten the stench to be found in cities.

“Which undoubtedly proves the wisdom of Midanna,” chuckled Mehrayn, amused by the expression he saw upon me. “If it were necessary for me to dwell upon a lower terrace, I, too, would likely take to the forests. You will find the air cleaner in the higher reaches, wench.”

“Perhaps,” I shrugged, continuing to look about myself as we moved slowly through the din and press of the throng. The air might well be cleaner the higher we climbed, yet would it remain the air of a city. Jalav disliked cities, yet was it unnecessary to speak of the feeling; no longer was I covered with the happiness of freedom, and this the males could see.

All about us were old, badly-cared-for dwellings, of a black stone which contained much red in it. Sigurri city folk bustled all about these dwellings; entering, leaving, standing before them, both silently and in converse with others. Those upon the way had surged all about us in an uncaring manner, yet in no more than a moment were the hordes beginning to draw back out of our path, both male and female bowing with an awed look to them, gazing at the males I rode with and speaking excitedly to one another. I, too, was gazed upon with much excited chatter, but it bespoke curiosity rather than awe. It came to me then to examine the males upon the way more closely, and none did I see with the black stroke upon the shoulder possessed by the four I rode with. Cloth in many colors covered their bodies, yet none were to be seen with black. These four, then, were in some manner different from those about us, clearly higher and commanding the respect of those we rode through. If this were true, then I was well-enough pleased, for then might my task be more quickly seen to and accomplished. Already did I ache for the freedom of the forests; the sooner I returned there, the sooner would happiness return to me.

With the way cleared for our passage, it was not long before we had twisted and turned among dwellings to a gentle rise which became less gentle. Dwellings lowered as the way rose, and soon were we passing at the bases of larger dwellings, circling them and all about to at last find ourselves upon a leveling which now ran between these larger dwellings. Though the way was well peopled, less bustle and more calm was to be found than that which obtained upon the lower level. Males and females continued to bow and allow us our path, yet were there now a few males who strode about in black body cloths, though still without a shoulder stroke. Upon the lower level it had pleased me to see that these Sigurri females failed to cover their breasts, yet was the custom absent upon this higher level. Rather than the length of bright cloth wrapped about their waists and reaching to their ankles, these higher-level females wore lengths of cloth which covered them from armpits to ankles, cinched tight with leather about their waists. The doing seemed foolish to me, till we rode near to a very large dwelling which had more than a hand of females chained separately by the neck before its broad, undecorated entrance.

“Temple slaves,” murmured Mehrayn from his place on my right, obviously following my gaze. “Their nipples are dyed red to make their status clear to all. The ladies of this level and those higher feel no need to prove their own status, yet the wenches below wish it clear to all that they are free. As temple slaves are for the use of all men, one can scarcely blame them. ”

“There have been incidents of confusion, and not only at the lowest level,” chuckled Grandyn from my left. “Two or three kalod ago, a number of spirited young ladies of the highest level took it upon themselves to show their opinion of one of their number. The wench in question was one who continually looked down upon all the others, thereby earning their enmity. Consider her mortification when she awoke early one fey and found herself chained by the neck in a temple alcove, her breasts dyed a bright, accusing red, her body stripped naked to prepare her for use. Her wine had been drugged the darkness before, and all her protestations failed to free her from the chain which held her in the alcove. Her family found her at last, yet not before she had been taught humility through service.”

“I recall the incident,” laughed Bershyn, who rode to Grandyn’s left. “The young ladies responsible for the prank were punished themselves in a similar manner, though not by the populace in general. Those of us who were called on for assistance found them delicious in their tears of repentance, eh, Famsyn? A pity you two were away about Sigurr’s work.”

Famsyn, who rode to the right of Mehrayn, joined Bershyn in high amusement at the sour expressions of the other two, yet I found little amusement in their talk. I dislike slaves and the entire concept of slavery, no matter the gender of the slaves in question.

The way we followed twisted less than the previous one, yet it, too, began to rise toward a higher level. Upon the third level were there a greater number of males in black body cloths and larger and finer dwellings, yet was it necessary to reach the fourth level before one found dwellings of glittering black among those of reddish black, and further males with black strokes upon their shoulders. There were not many of these latter males, yet did each raise a hand to the four I rode with, calling them by name and offering greetings. These greetings were heartily returned by Bershyn and Grandyn, and then did the dark-haired male turn to Mehrayn.

“If you are sure you will not require our presence, we will leave you here,” said Grandyn, seeming more than eager to be away. “There is a little slave in the temple of this level of whom I have dreamt since we departed the city to the north. As the journey home was not as pleasant as I had anticipated it would be, I have great need of that little slave.”

“More need than I have for your presence,” said Mehrayn, with a chuckle. “It is my intention to take this wench here to Aysayn, and vouch for her when he has heard her tale. Should he also require the three of you, we will know where you may be found.”

“Aye,” laughed Bershyn, stirring upon his kan. “We may be found offering our devout prayers to Sigurr in his temple, as do all loyal followers. Be sure to mention that to Sigurr’s Shadow Aysayn, Mehrayn.”

“Unnecessary,” laughed Mehrayn, shaking his head. “A Shadow of Sigurr knows well the doings of each of his followers. Come to my house at darkness, brothers, so that we may feast and drink till the new light. We have earned at least that much.”

“Agreed!” laughed the others, and with final waves of their arms, took themselves off toward a large, undecorated dwelling of glittering black. Much did the dwelling appear to be a larger version of those to be found upon the lower levels, yet were there no chained and painted females to be seen before its entrance.

“The temple slaves of this level, the one beneath and the one above, are to be found in halls and alcoves,” said Mehrayn, seemingly reading my thoughts. “Public displays, though occasionally indulged in, are not the norm. Sigurr will be pleased with the ardent devotions of my brothers, as will the slaves they choose. Slave females find great pleasure in strong use, and come to eagerly anticipate it.”

I turned my head to regard the male, who sat quietly upon his kan, regarding me in turn, a faint grin lurking in his eyes. I had heard such statements made by males at other times, and felt no need to comment. The doings of slaves had little in common with the doings of warriors, save that both must at times endure the foolishness of males.

“Interesting,” murmured the male after a moment, the amusement remaining in his eyes. “You make no attempt to denounce my comments, nor do you take them as personal insult. Do you agree with me, then, or do you think yourself too good to be compared with wenches chained in the service of men?”

“I do not care for slaves,” I informed the male, allowing him to see there was no amusement to be found in the subject. “Jalav was declared slave by the High Seat of Bellinard, yet little pleasure did the males find in her enslavement. Had she been unchained and allowed a weapon in her hand, there would have been even less of pleasure. There is considerable difference between being enslaved and becoming a slave.”

“I should have known better than to broach the subject,” said Mehrayn shaking his head in mock severity. “You would indeed make a willful and disobedient slave, wench, one who would require much training. I think it best that we continue on to the High Temple now, and leave further discussion of slaves for another time. Attempt to bear in mind that there are more sober matters before us.”

With such words did the male turn his kan and continue along the way, leaving me to follow with no more than a small sigh. Always did the male act so, as though a subject he had broached had been first spoken of by me, and I failed to understand his purpose. The matter seemed pure foolishness, designed to cause anger and insult in others, and at times had the male seemed vexed that I failed to fall to anger. For what reason one would purposely seek to anger another I knew not; should their intent be battle, a simple challenge would see the matter done. Mehrayn’s intent was far beyond me, as were many of the doings of males. Strange were males, and naught might a warrior do to plumb that strangeness.

The fifth level proved to be the highest of the city, save that one single dwelling, of very large size, perched above all at the very top of the small mountain against which the city had been built. All dwellings upon this highest level were of glittering black, large and imposing, and guarded by males in black yet without shoulder strokes. A number of females were to be seen strolling about, most of whom wore black cloth belted about their waists rather than leather. These females called laughingly to Mehrayn, who returned their greetings with high good humor, though making no attempt to halt and approach them as they requested he do. Instead he continued on toward the towering dwelling above us, urging on his weary kan with words of encouragement. Both our mounts were nearly done, and had we not been so close to our goal, I would surely have insisted that we stop to rest them.

When we arrived at last at the foot of the high, gleaming black dwelling, males in light-colored body clothes hurried over to take our kand and spears. Deep bows followed Mehrayn as he led me toward the broad, pillared entrance, yet did the male seem nearly unaware of them. More intent did he seem upon his thoughts, and once within the stark, bare dwelling, he halted and gestured me close.

“I feel I had best explain what we are about here,” said he, looking down at me with sober calm. “I have brought you here to speak your tale to Aysayn, he who is the Shadow of Sigurr’s will upon this world. When he is convinced of the truth of what you say, he will give his blessing for the warriors of Sigurr to ride forth. I am the one who will lead them.”

“Then—you are war leader to your males?” I asked, no more than somewhat surprised at the revelation. The manner in which the others had treated with Mehrayn bespoke a status of no more than near equals.

“We do not call the position war leader,” said he, folding his arms as he leaned a shoulder upon the smooth blackness of the wall. “There are twenty Princes of Sigurr’s Blood, high born warriors who each lead more than a century of fighting men, and I am the leader of these warriors and fighting men, called the Prince of Sigurr’s Sword. The Prince of Sigurr’s Sword must defend his position against all challengers, most especially from Princes of Sigurr’s Blood. Bershyn and Famsyn and Grandyn are such Princes, yet are they not of a mind to challenge me. Do you follow what I say?”

“Certainly.” I nodded, looking about at the wide, clean, totally undecorated entrance area. “You are war leader of your males, yet must you add to the position as all males, with foolish-sounding titles which mean naught. This Aysayn you speak of is undoubtedly the Keeper of Sigurr’s lore, as Rilas is Keeper of Mida’s lore and Crystals. For what reason do you require the blessing of a Keeper when Midanna do not?”

“Without such a blessing, how are we to know whether our expeditions have Sigurr’s approval?” asked Mehrayn, an annoyance having entered his eyes and tone. “Should we do without, we may well be acting counter to Sigurr’s wishes.”

“With Midanna, it is for the war leader to decide the merits of a particular action,” said I. “Should she lead her clan into battle in error, Mida will not smile upon her cause, though she ever allows the glory of death in battle. It is through success or failure that we judge Mida’s will. Our Keeper may do no more than offer advice and attempt to obtain Mida’s approval of the doing.”

“We Sigurri prefer obtaining approval in advance of the doing,” said Mehrayn, a deal of dryness having entered his tone. “We may then enter battle knowing we are in the right. And should the point have escaped you, wench, allow me to inform you that without the blessing of Aysayn, the Sigurri will not ride out as you wish. If you are wise, you will make an attempt to speak more civilly to him than you do to me. The Shadow has not the patience of the Sword.”

“Perhaps you may recall, male, that I care not whether the Sigurri ride out,” I replied, amused at his growing annoyance. “I agreed to do no more than attempt to raise your force. Should the Sigurri refuse the will of Sigurr, I will merely return to my Midanna and inform them that the battle is to be ours alone,”

Upon hearing my words, the annoyance of the male turned in great part to anger, and he straightened himself from the wall to stare down upon me.

“I find little amusement in your lightness of heart, girl,” said he, a disapproving severity clear in the green of his eyes. “Did I not know you are aware of how greatly I desire to join this battle, surely would I believe you meant to act in a manner which would ensure our remaining behind.”

“Jalav shall act as she ever acts.” I shrugged, still amused. “As Mida and Sigurr are well aware of the manner in which I act, surely my actions are in accordance with their wishes, else would another have been sent in my stead. Does Mehrayn put his own wishes above those of Mida and Sigurr?”

A brief moment of silence ensued, during which high frustration took possession of the male, and then did he shake his head.

“I am unable to accustom myself to the familiar manner in which you speak of Sigurr,” said he, straightening where he stood. “Despite this difficulty, it is clear that no matter what efforts I might attempt, matters will proceed as the great god wills them. I will therefore do no more than show you to Aysayn’s precincts, and then retire to my house, from which I have been too long absent. Surely will your steps be guided from then on by Sigurr.”

“Such will undoubtedly be sufficient.” I nodded, resting my left hand upon my sword hilt. “As Mida wills it, so shall it be.”

“You are insufferable,” he growled, lowering his brows in vexation. “Had you requested my assistance, I would have remained with you, as originally intended. As you feel no smallest need for me, I shall be on my way. Take that doorway which stands before you, continue up the corridor to the fifth doorway on the right, take that corridor to the fourth doorway on the left, then ask further of the guards you will find. May Sigurr be with you.”

A small, stiff bow ended the words he spoke, and then was he striding toward the entrance through which we had come, to disappear into the fey beyond. I watched him till he was gone, puzzling over the new strangeness he evinced, then dismissed the matter with a shrug. Males are male, and foolish is the warrior who attempts to make sense of their actions.

The doorway Mehrayn had mentioned stood perhaps a hand of paces from me, a small opening in the unadorned black wall. There was little reason to remain where I was, therefore did I take myself to that doorway and through. Beyond was the corridor spoken of, sparkling black walls containing large candles in silver sconces, uncovered black floor, doorways appearing at long intervals to left and right. A hand of doorways to the right, Mehrayn had said, and easily was the direction followed, yet did I find myself puzzled once more. Those doorways one was able to look through contained naught save corridors beyond them; the rest, numbering more than half, were closed fast with wooden doors which disallowed sight of what lay beyond. Had I not been intent upon completing the task given me and returning quickly to my warriors, I would surely have taken the time to look behind each.

The second corridor proved less empty than the first, in that carvings appeared in the black of the walls between the heavy candles. The carvings showed males in their doings, in battle, in raising foodstuffs and herd beasts, all beneath the eye of one who rose large above them and smiled upon their efforts. He who watched was undoubtedly Sigurr, yet not the Sigurr I had met and treated with. No indication was there of the evil which emanated from the god, and this I could not understand. Were these not his followers, who knew him for what he was? The question, though disturbing, held short reign in my thoughts for the fourth doorway was quickly reached, bringing sight of the three males who stood in the small area beyond. Well lit with candles was this area, with low, silver seats to either side of the doorway through which I entered, and a silver and black cloth covering the stone of the floor. The cloth felt odd to walk upon after the stone, and much did it detract from the pleasant coolness which the corridors had had. The three males, in black body cloths, swordbelts, and brief leather foot coverings, showed naught of shoulder strokes, yet were they large and well made and alert. Their eyes came to me the moment I appeared, and quickly did grins cover their faces.

“Greetings, wench,” said one as I approached, his eyes busily taking me in. Light-haired was the male as were the other two, also with light eyes. “Should you have lost your way, as seems evident, we shall be pleased to direct you.”

“For a small fee,” said a second with a large grin, causing laughter in the others. “Sigurr’s blessing will be yours along with the directions.”

“I have no need of directions,” said I, halting before them. “I come to speak with the male Aysayn, he who is called Shadow of Sigurr, and was told he might be found here. Are you to fetch him, or am I to go where he is?”

“Rein in, girl, rein in,” laughed the first of the males, folding his arms as he looked down upon me. “The Shadow does not grant audience to all who present themselves, else he would do naught else. Who are you, and what is your business with him?”

“I am Jalav, war leader of all the Midanna,” said I, folding my arms in a like manner, though without a matching amusement. “I have journeyed far to speak with the male, entirely at the behest of another. What I come to speak of may be more fully discussed with Aysayn.”

“Perhaps she comes to offer herself to the Shadow,” suggested the second male to the first, also looking down upon me. “She would look well draped in silver chain, serving in his private apartments, would she not?”

“Perhaps more so than she who now serves there,” murmured the first male, his light gaze unwavering. “Her hair is of the color of the great god, and with the rest of her makes her a fitting vessel for the attentions of Aysayn. The sole disturbing note is the sword she wears.”

“And the dagger,” agreed the second, also in a speculating tone. “She has named herself war leader of some group. Perhaps they have sent her as a gift to Aysayn, in advance of proposing a joint venture of sorts.”

“Would she be sent so without an escort?” asked the first. “How might her people be assured of her arrival? What if she had decided against offering herself? What if some harm should have befallen her before she was able to reach our city?”

“Your speculations are idle as well as incorrect,” I interrupted, beginning to feel impatience. “Should it be beyond the three of you to inform Aysayn of my presence, I shall seek him out through my own efforts.”

“Indeed,” said the first, less amusement now touching him. “And in which direction would your efforts take you, girl?”

“Through the doorway you stand before,” said I, anod toward the portal they undoubtedly guarded. “I have not journeyed this far to be halted by words.”

“Nor by swords?” asked the male, his tone now even. “We are three to your one, girl, and have been set here to keep intruders from entering. Though it seems you are familiar with the use of the blade you wear, you cannot hope to overcome warriors. ”

“I, too, am a warrior,” said I, returning the even gaze sent toward me. “Should Mida and Sigurr have sent me here to fall in battle, so be it. Naught less will halt my intentions.”

“You claim to be sent by Sigurr?” demanded the second male as the first frowned. The third, aloof till then, now joined the ring before me.

I make no claims,” said I, taking them all in with a sweeping glance. “I merely state what is. Am I to be given access to Aysayn, or is battle to be joined?”

“Perhaps it would be best to inform her of the Shadow’s absence,” said the newly come third, the disturbance of the others touching him as well. “Should she truly be from Sigurr, it would be sacrilege to raise a blade against her.”

“Aysayn would determine the matter soon enough,” said the first male, quickly mastering his upset. “As it is, we cannot make the judgment for him. The Shadow has gone into the mountains to commune with Sigurr, wench, and therefore cannot be reached. He will return when his soul is renewed, and may then decide whether he will receive you. To attempt battle with us now will avail you naught.”

The three gazed directly upon me, an openness to their stares which put the face of truth upon their assertion. I stood a long moment considering the situation, annoyed yet unable to alter the thing, then nodded in decision.

“Very well,” said I, accepting the chains of delay. “As Aysayn is not now available, I shall await his return.”

I turned from the males, walked to the left-hand wall of the area, turned again, and sat myself cross-legged upon the floor cloth. The males watched silently as I did this, then exchanged looks of confusion.

“What do you do, wench?” asked the first, taking a short step toward me. “It may be feyd before Aysayn’s return. You cannot await him here!”

“Should he indeed be communing with Sigurr,” said I, “the dark god will undoubtedly inform him of my presence. As I have not been sent here with any purpose other than to speak with the male, I shall indeed remain here.”

“Such foolishness!” began the male with heat, yet were further words denied him with the appearance of a female at the door before which he and the others stood guard. The door had been opened by one of further males clad in black who accompanied the female and at sight of her, the three I spoke with turned quickly and bowed. Much did the female seem intent upon quitting the area from which she came, yet sight of Jalav halted her just beyond the doorway into the small area. Tall was the female, and clad in silks all of black, ones which covered her from left shoulder to ankles, and which were cinched tight about her small waist. Her golden-haired head was carried high and proud that and the deference of the males contrasting oddly with the light silver chains in which she was enclosed. Both her wrists and ankles were enclosed so, the gleaming links meeting at her waist to encircle it, yet was she clearly no slave.

“What occurs here?” said she to the males of the area, her voice filled with the sound of authority. “Do you dare to sport with a wench of the first-level while on duty?”

“High lady, this is no matter of sport,” said the first male, the annoyance which set his shoulders unobservable in his tone. “This wench has come to speak with the Shadow, and insists upon awaiting his return on this very spot. We were about to remonstrate with her when you appeared.”

“For what reason need you remonstrate with her?” demanded the female, her voice melodious even in impatience. “Remove her and be done with it!”

The first male stumbled upon hesitation, and into the gap fell the third of the three.

“High lady, we cannot!” said he, a pleading quality faint yet obvious in his tone. “The wench claims to have been sent here by Sigurr! ”

A silence descended then, one which covered all those within hearing. The female turned light, thoughtful eyes to the task of studying me, and busy indeed did the thoughts behind those eyes seem. After a moment, the female drew herself up and nodded.

“I see,” said she with interest. “Under the circumstances, I will interview her myself. Come with me, girl.”

The female, though tall, was obviously far from being Midanna, and her tone, though brisk, had hardly been offensive; it was therefore odd that I felt an intense and almost immediate dislike for her. Slowly did I rise again to my feet, seeing the female’s well-covered surprise that I was larger than she, and attempt to keep my tone as civil as hers had been.

“I grow weary of the fact that none of your city seem able to recall a name given them,” said I, resting my left hand upon my sword hilt. “I am Jalav, formerly war leader of the Hosta, now war leader of all the Midanna. The next who calls me other than that will regret the doing.”

“Jalav,” repeated the female, her eyes raised to my face reflecting a continued thoughtfulness. “I shall indeed remember your name. I am Ladayna, High Consort to Aysayn the Shadow and close confidante to him. If you will follow me to my apartments, I will hear your tale.”

The female turned to retrace her steps through the doorway, the males stepping back to allow her her way; I hesitated only briefly before following, for though I had a somewhat uneasy feeling, I was anxious to be done with these city folk and on my way back to the warriors who awaited me. Perhaps speaking with this Ladayna would serve my purpose, and it would be unnecessary to await the return of Aysayn.

The males within the doorway numbered six, and each eyed me closely as I passed them, to where Ladayna had halted to await me. The female turned again as I reached her and continued up the corridor, seemingly unaware of that which she passed. The walls, no longer bare stone but hung in black and gold silks, sported gleaming golden candle sconces and many—drawings, city folk would call them—also in black and gold. Each drawing depicted no more than a single male and a single female, each male taking pleasure from an unwilling partner, each drawing depicting a different manner of doing so. Where the first set of drawings ended a second set began, the males continuing their doing, the females clearly less unwilling than they had been. The third and final set showed the females lost to the pleasures of that which was done to them, lost to the overwhelming desire to please the males who used them. I made no comment as I took these drawings in, yet was it obvious that they had been done by males. No other than they considered the simple taking of a female sufficient to give her pleasure; any female ever used knew the fallacy in that.

The female Ladayna followed the corridor to its end, then halted before a door in the wall to the left. To the right was a set of double doors, large and imposing, of black wood encrusted with gold, the sign of Sigurr clear upon each. Four further males in black body clothes stood before these doors, and one made his way to the smaller door opposite and opened it for Ladayna. The female spoke several soft words to the male, then turned to gesture me within.

“These apartments are mine,” said she, “and we may take our ease as we converse. I have sent for refreshments to be brought and we will not be disturbed in any other way.”

The female led the way within and, once I had followed, the male who had opened the door closed it again. Within was a large room done in black and silver, wall silks, floor furs, deep, soft seats. Again was there less of a coolness to the air, and no windows were visible even behind the wall silks. Beyond a carving of a male figure all in black, no further adornments were to be seen in the room.

“Please seat yourself,” said Ladayna, gesturing toward a seat as she, herself, took one perhaps a pace away. “I am curious to know what brings you here.”

“The tale is simple.” I shrugged, pleased to be able to lower myself into the seat with no difficulty. I was grateful that I had learned the use of city-folk devices such as seats for, despite her lack of enmity, I would not have wished to appear awkward before the female Ladayna. “I am the chosen of Mida,” said I, “chosen to lead all of the Midanna in battle. By cause of having been chosen by Mida, I am also chosen by Sigurr to bring his word to his followers. Strangers come who are enemy to both Mida and Sigurr, and the goddess and god would have us do battle with them side by side. I am told this Aysayn is able to send the Sigurri to battle, therefore have I come to speak with him.”

“I see,” said Ladayna, her words accompanied by the clink of chain as she shifted somewhat in her seat. “And these others that you speak of—these Midanna. Are they male warriors such as the Sigurri—or females like yourself?”

“For what reason would I take the bother of leading males?” I asked, puzzled by her question. “The Midanna are true warriors, female warriors, and shall face the coming strangers alone should the Sigurri refuse to join them. You say you consort with the male Aysayn; are you able to raise the Sigurri in his place?”

“I fear I have no such power,” said she, a faint smile touching her features. Bold were the looks of this female, with a face and body undoubtedly considered highly desirable by males. “I may do no more than speak to Aysayn on your behalf, explaining your request and asking that he consider it. You, yourself, may do no more, therefore are you free to return to your—warriors. We will share refreshment, then you may leave.”

“I have not come the distance I have to leave word with another,” I replied, gesturing a dismissal with one hand of the female’s foolishness. “As it is Aysayn I must speak with, I shall await his return. And I shall not request his consideration of the matter. I shall inform him that I merely agreed to carry Sigurr’s word to his warriors; should his warriors refuse his word, the Midanna are well able to carry on without them.”

“Thereby insuring that the Sigurri will ride, through anger if naught else,” said she, an annoyed clink to the sound of her silver chains. “And Aysayn. Aysayn will be charmed, by the barbaric nature of you, by the presumption of your insistence upon leadership, by the manner in which you speak familiarly of Sigurr—and by that which attracts all men who have seen you.”

“Of what do you speak?” I asked, frowning. “Of what interest are the preferences of Aysayn to me—other than his directing the Sigurri to ride?”

“They should be of great interest to you!” she snapped, no longer pretending to indolent hospitality. “As they are to me! These chains I wear—do you think them mere decorations? I am high born, and was able to convince my father to refuse the petition of any man I disliked—save one. The Shadow of Sigurr upon this world did not petition. He merely had his warriors take me from my father’s house, then placed me in the chains of a slave when I attempted to refuse him. He is a man who joys in taking unwilling women, in making them writhe beneath him. I had no wish to be his consort, yet the power of the position is considerably more than I would care to give up—and the freedom considerably less than that which would appeal to the likes of you. If you remain he will have you—and I will have nothing.”

“Your fears are unfounded, woman,” I snorted, somewhat amused by the city slave-woman thoughts of the female. “This Aysayn will have naught of me save the words I bring from Sigurr, for my presence is necessary to lead the Midanna into battle. Should he attempt otherwise, one or the other of us must fall.”

“So you say,” said the female, and I realized she watched as my hand stroked my life sign. Unconsciously, at the mention of battle, had I reached for that which had been the guardian of my soul, forgetting the sign of Mida and Sigurr it had become. I quickly withdrew my hand, yet the female’s gaze remained a moment longer.

“So you say,” said she, angered and patently disbelieving. “I say I have learned Aysayn well enough to be sure of what he will do. Will you leave, now, knowing I will relay your message, or do you insist upon remaining and provoking disaster?”

Flashing of eye was this female of the Sigurri, this female who no longer wished an end to the chains of a slave. Completely was she convinced of the harm my presence would bring her, yet I had not come to bring harm to any.

“The insistence that I remain is not mine.” I shrugged as I rose to my feet. “I have pledged my word to attempt to raise the Sigurri, and so must I do. As my presence disturbs you, I shall await Aysayn elsewhere.” I turned then and made for the door, yet halted when I had reached it to face the female again. “Do not fear that I shall take your place,” I attempted to reassure her. “It has already been proven that Jalav does badly in chains—and worse to those who attempt to place her in them. Your slavery will be secure to you alone.”

The female, angered further, made no reply, therefore did I open the door to the corridor and take myself through. Those males who had been there earlier remained in evidence, giving me no hint of their intentions till I had passed them. One moment I walked peaceably toward the far end of the corridor between them—and the next a large, heavy cloth had been thrown over me, it and many arms bearing me to the floor. I struggled and fought to reach my sword or dagger, yet the folds of cloth hampered my movements and large hands quickly removed my weapons. I continued to struggle as the cloth was drawn away from me, yet what may a warrior do against the strength of a hand of males? Though with snarls I attempted to attack with teeth, still was I held easily to the floor I lay upon, the males keeping their flesh safe through distance. It was then that the female Ladayna came close to stand above me.

“Somehow I find myself pleased that you refused to leave,” said she, a smile again lighting her lovely features. “I despise women of your low sort, women who were born to be no more than temple slaves. Your foolish attempt to reach Aysayn and entice him with lies will not even be mentioned; the Shadow’s time is too valuable to be wasted. It pleases me that I may see to this small matter for him.” She then took my dagger from the hands of a guard male, bent to me, and cut the leather which held the life sign about my neck. “I will keep this little bauble as a memento of our meeting,” said she; straightening again with the leather tight in her fist. “You may now take her to begin the life she was born for—the life of a temple slave.”

Male laughter joined that of the female as I was forced amid struggles to my feet and taken up the corridor. Pleased was the female, and eager were the males—and Jalav was again to be made a slave.