The Will of the Gods

12 With forces joined—to battle the gods

The new light had not yet appeared when Chaldrin came, unbarring the door he had earlier barred, rousing Mehrayn and myself from a deep, dreamless sleep. The white-clad male had been sent by Aysayn, the Shadow also sending a plea for Mehrayn’s presence. The Sigurri legions were in need of disposition, and Aysayn had no wish to attempt the thing again. Mehrayn took my lips a final time, found and donned his black body cloth while asking Chaldrin to remain with me till I had returned among the tents of the Midanna, and then was he gone, off to see to a duty which had too long been neglected. His final glance had been for me, an unspoken promise that he would return as soon as he was able, and in some manner was my distress increased by the doing. I sought out my breech where it lay perhaps two paces from the faintly glowing hearth, donned it quickly, then left the dwelling for the soft darkness which comes just before the light.

“So, sister, you have used the darkness to return happiness to us both,” said Chaldrin, halting me with a hand upon my shoulder, just without the dwelling. The weapons which Aysayn had given me were there, yet would I have gone past them without sight had Chaldrin not halted me. “Happiness alone, however, is scarcely sufficient for your safety in the forests, my girl. You must take care not to grow lax in the presence of your body’s recent satisfaction.”

“Satisfaction was scarcely the sole thing I was given,” I muttered in answer, keeping my eyes from the male as I took the swordbelt and closed it about me, then set the dagger in my leg bands. “Should you have come to add your punishment to Mehrayn’s for my having given you anger with my actions, best would be that you see to it at once. There are tasks I must soon be about, and I cannot long delay their beginning. ”

“You would have me attempt your punishment the while you stand armed?” he asked, his amusement clear from the chuckling produced by him. “Surely, had you made such an offer before taking up that swordbelt, I would have . . . .”

His words broke off as I tore away the swordbelt and threw it from me, his silence filled with shock as I sent the dagger after the sword. The ache within me was as deep as it had been when Mehrayn had first spoken of the matter, and I put one hand to my middle against that ache, feeling the moisture which filled my eyes. So horribly unthinking had been my actions, so mindlessly uncaring of consequences had I been!

“No, wench, it cannot be that you weep!” said Chaldrin, shocked, and then were his arms about me, holding me to him with one hand to my hair. “You must tell me what the Sword did to you in punishment,” said he, a growl beginning in his throat. “That punishment was due you is undeniable, yet to bring one such as you to tears—! I must know what was done!”

“He—spoke of my intention to bring hatred to you and him,” I whispered, clinging to the male in an attempt to throw off the trembling which had seized me. “He knew I had done as I did so that you and he would be pleased if my life were lost attempting Mida’s task, yet did he ask what I would have done had I succeeded in breeding hatred within the two of you—and then had lived. It came to me then that never again would I have known the strength of his arms, the unending pleasure of his use, never again would I have known the glorious soul-sharing of the presence of a brother by my side. My life would then have returned to the emptiness it once was, Chaldrin, only then I would have known the exact magnitude of my loss.”

The tears continued their trail down my cheeks, yet was I beyond berating myself for so weakling a doing. In memory had I returned to my time with Ceralt, one who had, in full awareness, done as I had attempted to do. Only then was I able to fully understand the complete meaning of what he had done, the strength which had been required to provoke the hatred of one he would have given his life for. I had no doubt that Ceralt would have given his life for me, for he had attempted to give even more with his actions, doings which brought even greater pain than they gave. His words had shown that he knew full well the loss which would have been his had he not found death, and yet he had been willing to accept that loss so that I would be spared the pain of his ending. How blind I had been to see naught save his doings themselves, naught save the shame and humiliation given me! How small were those things when compared with what he, himself, must have suffered, and yet no word of pain had ever passed his lips!

“Ah, wench, you have been harshly punished indeed,” sighed Chaldrin, stroking my hair in an attempt to give me comfort. “To be shown the trace meaning of one’s actions, to be forced to face the barrenness of one’s existence without those one cares for—I much doubt I would have had the strength for such a doing. The Sword has clearly forced himself to it for your sake—so that you will not consider such a thing a second time.”

“Also was I given other punishment,” said I, finding something of the comfort Chaldrin sought to give. “To have left me entirely unpunished would have been to have left me to naught save considerations of might-have-beens, Mehrayn said, and also had he no wish to leave his own resentments unresolved. His second doing was both more and less painful than the first, yet did it serve to take from him the angered memory of my own doing.”

“Which was the reason for your having offered me my own turn with you,” Chaldrin observed, understanding clear in his voice. “You had no wish to leave me with memories of anger which might fester and eventually drive me from you. I value such consideration more than I am able to say, girl. What was the manner of the Sword’s second doing?”

“He—beat me,” I replied, of a sudden more than eager to end the discussion. I attempted to move from Chaldrin’s arms, yet did the male continue to hold me to him with a chuckle.

“I find it fascinating that embarrassment may be felt as easily within you as fear may be felt in the body of another,” said he, the dark shadow of his face looking down upon me. “I need no longer ask of the sort of beating you were given, for it was surely the sort he was given himself. Did he bring forth a switch to use?”

“He had no switch,” I replied with disgust. “Nor would he have used one had one been easily to hand, he informed me. I would likely find the need to stand in challenge with the new light, said he, and he had no desire to see me ended by cause of an inability to move with my usual speed.”

“Therefore did he use no other thing than his hand,” Chaldrin concluded with a nod. “I, too, am mindful of the challenge you face, and would also be willing to forgo the use of a switch. Are you prepared to receive the same punishment from me that you received from the Sword?”

In memory I felt again the weight of Mehrayn’s hand, returning to me what he had been given, felt again the silent tears which had streamed down my cheeks at the growing ache in my bottom. Sooner would I have faced the whip Chaldrin had once beaten me with, for the whip had brought pain only to my body, none to my pride, yet was I unable to request near-crippling pain in place of humiliation. There was indeed a challenge I would likely need to face, and the accomplishing of Mida’s tasks held far more import than even the preservation of my pride.

“Chaldrin may do as he wishes with this Midanna,” I said at last, looking down from the eyes I was not yet able to see. “The debt I owe him is large, and the manner of settling it may be the choice of none save him. Do as you must, brother. There will be no challenge between us at the end of it. ”

Well prepared was I for accepting that which was necessary, yet was Chaldrin briefly silent, then did he raise my face to his again.

“No debt of any size stands between us, sister,” said he, his fingers steady beneath my chin. “That my life remains mine through your recent efforts may not be denied, and a doing such as that excuses much. What remain between us are bonds of love, a form of love uninvolved with bodily doings, a form of love which allows feelings of annoyance and exasperation to exist along with it. Never did I feel true anger with you, girl, merely exasperation, which calls for no more than a small punishment to banish it entirely. This punishment I will postpone till exasperation touches me again at some doing of yours, and only then will I demand the right you have freely given me. Yet must I also give you clear warning: should you again involve yourself in such destructive foolishness, you will keenly regret having given me leave to do you as I would. I feel Mehrayn has the right of it, and I will give you the same as you received from him, yet not with so light a touch.”

“You would not—consider the use of a whip in its stead?” I asked in a very small voice, feeling greatly diminished by what Chaldrin had said. Never had I known that such a thing as the love between us might be, and in its presence I felt absurdly small and undeserving. Many new things had recently been presented me, things which would require the passing of my continued confusion before they might be evaluated. “It had not occurred to me that there would come a time when I would look upon the whippings and lashings I had been given, as great kindness,” I muttered.

“A lashing as kindness,” said Chaldrin with much deep-throated chuckling, his arms releasing me at last. “No other wench I have ever known would see it so, but they were not Midanna. And no, girl, I would not consider the use of a whip in place of the punishment promised you. Had I learned naught else about you, still would I have learned of the ease with which you put away the lessons of a whip. Pain is turned into a determination for revenge by you, and I would not have you do the same with what lessons I attempt to teach. The gentler punishment will be sharper by cause of its gentleness, and the lesson will be learned. Take up your weapons, now, so that we may return to the camp of tents.”

“I must think upon all these strangenesses I have been presented with,” said I with something of a sigh, going to the weapons I had previously thrown from me. “It may perhaps prove true that one is in better state when in the capture of enemies, than when in the care of brothers. Also do I continue to believe that questions such as that would not have arisen had I been wise enough to keep from being enmeshed in the doings of males.”

“It was not meant that you be kept from the doings of men,” said he with further chuckling, watching as I replaced the weapons. “You must learn to deal with such things, and also to accept graciously what lessons are taught you. We who care for you will assist you in these things.”

“Mida protect me from the assistance of males,” said I, speaking very softly, yet did Chaldrin hear and allow his amusement to grow. We left the vicinity of the dwelling surrounded by his deep, gentle laughter, and no other thing than thought upon what lay before me kept me from a suspicion that I had in some manner enchained myself more thoroughly than had been done to me by any who called himself enemy.

The beginning brightness of the new fey was already returning color to all things about us when we reached the first of the tents. Somewhat disturbing was it to see Sigurri warriors all about, yet was their presence greatly necessary. Few more than two handfuls of Midanna remained untaken by the vapor of the gray-clad males, therefore were they in need of assistance in seeing to their sisters. All about the various colored tents did the two groups labor, tending those in matching clan colors. Two sets had been arranged in the midst of the tent areas, one of those who merely slept deeply—and one of those who had been sent upon the journey to Mida’s Realm. Some of those who had stood guard had been slain, and some of those who had not been taken by the vapors, and sight of those who had had their lives uselessly thrown away before they might be spent to better purpose, turned me more than grim. Slowly did I pace from tent area to tent area, looking upon those who were no more, seeing again the gray-clad ones in my mind’s eye, bitterly regretting that those gray-clad faith were no longer before my sword. Much pleasure would there have been in further buryings of my blade, yet did I refrain from visiting the area in which were held those of the craven horde who had not been able to flee the Sigurri, yet feared to face them. These had thrown themselves upon the mercy of the males, thinking to be carried back to the land of the Sigurri and perhaps consigned to the Caverns of the Doomed, yet had I already spoken with Aysayn and seen the matter settled otherwise. Those gray-clad ones who stood in capture would be gifted to the Midanna when they awoke, a gesture of friendship from warriors to warriors. Also would they be given the body of the very young Sarda, she who had been captured by the males and made to show them the place of visiting. Her body gave evidence of what she had been made to endure, of what had finally broken her and made her agree to the demands of the males. She had not survived the doing long, which was much of a blessing; also would no single invader survive to regret his doing, yet would their regret be keen the short while they lived.

Ilvin labored with those clans who had none awake to begin with till there were some few from each who had been roused, and then did she come to join me as I paced about; Chaldrin and Aysayn already moved silently in my wake, feeling my fury over those who had been slain and wisely saying naught. Mehrayn joined us as well when those Sigurri who had fought and labored through the darkness had been replaced with those who had slept, and with him was S’Heernoh, deep upset in the dark eyes which rested in an overly sober countenance. In soft words was I told by Mehrayn that S’Heernoh’s upset was caused by his belief that an earlier warning would have lessened the number of Midanna lives which had been lost, therefore did it become necessary that I take a moment to speak with the male. Quietly did I point out that an earlier warning would have done naught to alter matters, for those two who were able to direct the Sigurri legions in their entirety were unavailable, Mehrayn with the Midanna, Aysayn with myself. Also did I point out that no warning of any sort would surely have been an even greater disaster, therefore was the male foolish to berate himself over a doing which had seen more lives saved than lost. When I put my hand to his shoulder and asked if the male S’Heernoh meant to anger a war leader with further foolishness, the male smiled his faint, odd smile, met my gaze with the warmth he had so often shown, then shook his head. No words were spoken by him, yet did his manner lead me to believe that he had taken my own words to heart.

The light of the new fey was bright and high before the greater number of Midanna were awakened. Dotil and Wedin, having themselves fallen prey to the vapor, were late in joining my set, and with them walked Gidain and Rinain, the two Sigurri who had sought them out the darkness previous. Throughout the darkness and what new light had passed had the two male warriors remained with the Summa, and the manner in which they joined my set brought a frown to the face of Ennat the Keeper, who had awakened long enough before that she was then able to stand beside me.

“Those, I presume, are the Summa who rode with you,” said she, her frown continuing in evidence. “Those males who accompany them—do they follow the Summa? They continue to bear arms and to wear their own colors, and they fail to walk respectfully behind or to one side—yet is there some shadow of a look about them which suggests they follow warriors in some manner.”

“They neither follow nor demand to be followed,” I said, knowing my words would do little to soothe the Keeper. “The males, too, are warriors, and in some manner have they joined with the Summa which takes from none of them and gives to all. It is not a thing I am able to understand, Ennat, for these Sigurri are unlike any males I have ever come across. To take one in capture would be much like taking in a Midanna in capture, yet is there no hesitation within them over giving a warrior her due. Should Mida add to your wisdom and some fey bring you understanding of ones such as they, I would be greatly in your debt if the understanding were shared with me.”

“And with me,” said Renin of the Sonna as she joined us, the yellow of her clan covering less bright than it had been. “I awoke thinking it would be necessary to give my life in defiance of my captors, then found that those would-be captors had already been driven off, and by those who attended me. Gently and with respect was I tended, as though clan sisters saw to my well-being, and when I was once again able to stand without assistance, my weapons were returned to me.” Greatly disturbed did Renin seem, though she disallowed much outward evidence of it, and she shook her head as Ennat and I looked upon her. “With my weapons returned to me I was left to my own devices, save for a single one of those males. When the others had gone he approached me alone, then spoke of how pleasing he found my golden hair and green eyes. He, himself, was dark-haired and dark-eyed, and suggested that if I found him equally as pleasing, he would come to me when the unsteadiness from the vapors had entirely left me. In no manner did he ask to follow me, nor was I commanded to follow him; I had no true understanding of the exact proposal made, yet did he make no effort to halt me when I walked from him in confusion. These males are clearly free, Hosta; for what reason do they not begrudge our own freedom, as do other free males?”

“I know not, Renin,” I made admission with a sigh, finding her confusion a true match to mine. “I, too, have sought an answer to that question, yet does the answer continue to elude me. All Midanna know of the strangeness of males, yet these males go well beyond that.”

“Perhaps—perhaps they have so little doubt upon the question of their own abilities, that they need not diminish others to be certain of their own selves,” suggested Ennat, her tone greatly unsure, the frown still in possession of her. “No true warrior finds the need to take the glory of another before her own glory may shine forth, and these males have much of the sound of warriors to them.”

“They are unquestionably warriors,” came another voice, heralding the approach of Faris of the Summa, who was accompanied by the Simna was leader, Ludir. Already had Melid of the Sarra and Tarit of the Samma joined us the while Renin spoke, and all eyes turned to the newcomers.

“Their battle skill, at least, is sufficient to give them the name of warrior,” said Ludir, a sourness to the words she spoke. She and Faris halted before the balance of us, and Faris attempted to swallow down amusement.

“My sister Ludir is scarcely pleased to find it necessary to make such an admission, and for that she may not be faulted,” said Faris, silently sending me some part of her amusement. “I had come to the tents of the Simna to see if Ludir had awakened as yet, and was presented with an unexpected sight. A Simna warrior had awakened abruptly without the strengthlessness which had held the balance of us, looked about to see males without number, and suddenly recalled the attack of the darkness. Springing to her feet she took the sword of a male before he knew what she was about, sounded the Simna war cry, then attacked those she believed were enemies.”

“Attempted to attack those she believed were enemies,” corrected Ludir, her sourness undiminished. “Those of my warriors who were sufficiently awakened to be aware of the true state of affairs were as yet unfit to attempt halting her, yet it soon became clear that the males had no need of our aid. They most of them quickly threw themselves from the path of her blade, and then did one, with a black shoulder stroke, move forward to engage her with his own weapon. More than once was the male nearly spitted, for he made no attempt at attack of his own, yet his skill kept him from an ending till three others of his males were able to throw themselves upon the warrior the while her attention was engaged by him who stood before her blade. The three bore her to the ground, removed the weapon from her fist, then held her the while her sisters were called to speak with her. I, myself, went forward with difficulty to speak praise of my sister’s bravery in attacking those she thought to be enemies, and unbelievably found myself joined in the giving of that praise by him who had held her blade, he of the black shoulder stroke! Never before have I heard a male speak praise of a warrior’s skill, save that he wished to follow her, and this the male did not ask! Merely did he speak the words of praise, and no other!”

“Perhaps it is in such a way that males such as these ask the thing,” suggested Faris, her amusement greater at Ludir’s heavy indignation. “Jalav will surely know, for one of those who followed her here bears a similar stroke of black upon his shoulder. I see the male now bears arms, Jalav, as does the one in white. Have they been given your permission to take such a liberty?”

I turned my head to glance at Mehrayn where he stood in converse with S’Heernoh and Aysayn, and also at Chaldrin who stood beside Ilvin, looking down upon her attentively as she spoke words which seemed difficult for her. The presence of the Hitta had seemed to provoke more growls of displeasure than the presence of males, yet had none seen fit to give her challenge—as yet. I then returned my gaze to Faris and smiled faintly.

“The males both follow me and do not follow me,” said I, well aware of the close attention the others gave my words. “He of the white covering has vowed to his god to accompany me and stand beside me for as long as life is left to him, for he was bested by me with swords and now believes our fates intertwined. Chaldrin has great skill with the sword he wears, greater than any of the males who once followed him, yet has he little need of it for he also has great battle skill without weapons. He has already begun the teaching of this skill to myself and the Hitta and the Summa, for he dislikes the thought of our being without it. He is another who joys in the skill of warriors, and joys also in the thought of adding to it. ”

In silence did the eyes of the war leaders and Keeper leave me to go to Chaldrin, and many of those eyes, were filled with curiosity and the beginnings of greater interest. No male who followed a Midanna was allowed weapons, for he might some fey allow the presence of a weapon at his side to encourage him to deny the will of a warrior. That Chaldrin might not be disarmed even with the removal of his weapons was somewhat disturbing to those about me, yet their curiosity and interest clearly showed a greater respect toward me, for allowing him to follow me in any manner whatsoever. I had not intended to provoke such feelings within them, however the words I would have added to those already spoken were halted by Faris.

“And the other?” she asked, returning all eyes to her. “Has the other also sworn an oath to his god? His service was stranger than that of the white-clad male, for I tasted them both from curiosity. The red-haired one showed no reluctance in giving service to a warrior, yet the use of a war leader was not equally as pleasurable. He dislikes being taken upon his back, I think, as though disturbing memories come to him with the position.”

“Indeed does he dislike it,” said I, the sudden amusement I felt broadening my smile to something of a grin. “Those with black strokes upon their shoulders are war leaders to their males, and he is war leader to those war leaders. Once, in his own dwelling, I took him so, upon his back with my dagger at his throat. He could not deny the pleasure he felt, yet did he vow vengeance upon me for doing him so. Greatly amusing are males when they are so highly incensed.”

“Scarcely amusing,” said Faris, neither she nor the others joining my laughter. I had thought to distract them from Chaldrin with tales of Mehrayn, yet for some reason the ploy had not affected them as I wished it to. “These males are too large and well made—and too skillful—for their anger to be dismissed so lightly, war leader. The red-haired male is war leader to all of his males, a war leader of war leaders, and yet you speak lightly of having taken him against his will. In what manner did he take his vengeance?”

“He—took no vengeance,” I replied, attempting to show naught of my upset. “He followed after when I left his city, bringing others of his males, and kept my life from being taken by those gray-clad males who held Wedin and Dotil. When I fell senseless from the poisoning of my wounds, he tended me till Mida brought me healing. His vow of vengeance was no more than jest, for he dislikes being forced to the service of a Midanna.”

“And yet he allowed himself to again be used in such a way, and without protest,” said Ennat, her dark eyes upon me with sober calm. “A war leader of war leaders, he nevertheless took no vengeance, tended you in your need, and allowed himself to be used so that none might say you led a free male to our lands. You speak unknowingly in error when you say he does not follow you, Jalav of the Hosta. It is simply that these males follow like no others who follow Midanna, both he and the white-clad one. You command deep loyalty in odd places, war leader, as the chosen of Mida rightfully should.”

“She is not the chosen of Mida!” rang out another voice even as my thoughts whirled with the agreement to be seen in the eyes of the war leaders. I had not expected so effortless an acceptance, and indeed was it not meant to be so. Kalir stood not far from our set, her chin high, her feet widespread, fury blazing in her eyes from the words she had clearly heard Ennat speak. Deliberately had I avoided seeking out the Selga, as what lay between us was meant to be settled in the presence of her sister war leaders and Keeper; although not all of the war leaders had as yet made an appearance, enough were present to see the thing properly done.

“Kalir of the Selga, your actions have disgraced us all!” said Ennat at once, anger seemingly causing her to again forget her place as Keeper. I had been asked what circumstances had kept me from appearing to face challenge, and my reply had filled Ennat with the rage of humiliation. “To force the helplessness of sleep upon the one you challenged, and then to give her over into the capture of those of a village—your actions speak clearly enough of your cowardice, as well as your lack of fitness to be a war leader of Mida! ”

“There was no cowardice in doing such things to one whose blood would have sullied my blade!” snapped the Selga, deliberately seeing naught of the shocked outrage evinced by her sisters. “It was my determination that another trial was called for, therefore did I see to it. Well pleased am I that that trial, too, was circumvented, for it has now become clear that I have been chosen by Mida to end the impostor. When her foul blood covers my blade and she lies lifeless at my feet, then will it be equally clear to all of you that Kalir is the chosen of Mida, not some worthless Hosta!”

“I now see the direction in which the lellin wings,” said Faris to me in a soft voice as I loosened the blade in my scabbard. “Kalir wishes the leadership of all the Midanna to be hers, and will dare anything to see it so.”

“Her wishes are of no consequence,” I said, feeling the anger and battle desire rise up in me. “Should one wish a thing, one does not sully that thing with acts of dishonor. It is completely fitting that the final thing she dares is to face me.

“She wears the sword and dagger given you by Mida!” exclaimed Tarit with great indignation, the first words ever addressed to me by the Samma. “Will the weapons not give her Mida’s blessing as well?”

“Mida’s blessing is in the skill of the arm wielding the weapon, sister, not in the weapon itself,” said I, giving answer to Tarit in a voice that easily reached Kalir. Unwavering was the gaze I sent to the Selga, and higher did her anger flame when I stepped out toward her.

“Mida’s blessing is indeed in the arm which wields her weapon!” snarled Kalir, nearly beside herself. “Also is it to be found in the great magic of her sign, the life sign which once was yours and now is mine! I, too, was born beneath the sign of the hadat, another clear indication that Mida has called to me! She may perhaps have used this one to carry the life sign to me, yet now is it mine and her life as well! The mother of all has spurned you, Hosta trash; behold the one fated to lead her Midanna in your place—and behold the beginning of your own ending!”

Rabidly did Kalir scream out these words, and her fist rose high with the leather of my life sign clenched tight therein. The crystal hadat gleamed in the brightness of the fey’s light, drawing my eyes, forcing me to wonder if the words spoken by Kalir were indeed truth. Much had I felt that Mida was displeased with me, and this, perhaps, was to be the time of her taking another chosen. A chill of dread touched me at the thought, for Kalir would scarcely see to the freeing of the Hosta once battle with the strangers was done, and then dread was thrust aside by the fires of rage. Should Mida take another as chosen, that other would not be Kalir! A craven was Kalir, unwilling to face me in battle without the sword of Mida before her, thoroughly unfit to be called Midanna, not to speak of chosen. First would this Selga and I cross blades, and then would the matter of chosen be seen to.

“You continue to mean to face me!” said Kalir as her eyes gave her knowledge of my decision, a good deal of disbelief in her voice. “I hold all of Mida’s gifts and you hold none, and still do you mean to face me! You are the greatest of fools, Hosta, even greater for this than for believing you might bring males here among us! First will I see to you, and then will I send my warriors against these males, for true Midanna can wish no part of them. All of you will fall, and it is I who will see to it!”

I drew my sword at the venom Kalir spewed forth; however, the Selga was not yet prepared to do the same. Rather than draw and step toward me she took my life sign, opened the leather, and drew it on over her head. No attempt did she make to pull her dark hair through the leather, instead she grasped the crystal hadat and pressed it to her breast. Her face wore a look of great triumph—and then did all those about us cry out in fear at her scream of agony. Smoke arose from her hand and breast, a gentle graying which was then quickly lost in the flames which engulfed her, flames which seemed to arise from her very body! The screams of her agony rose higher and higher, freezing me in the deep-set shock where I stood with slackened jaw and slackly held sword, and then was the sword snatched from me by Ennat, who strode past where I stood, to Kalir. The heat of the flames nearly made her flinch back, yet determination brought her forward again, and with a single swing did she cut the head from the Selga.

The sound of agony ceased abruptly then, and also did the flames immediately recede from blackened flesh. Headless body followed bodiless head to the heat-shriveled grass of the ground, and Ennat looked down upon it in silence for a moment before turning to send her gaze to those who had not yet found themselves able to utter a single sound.

“There are many times when the will of Mida is unknown, few times when it is made unarguably clear,” said she in a strong voice which nevertheless shook some small bit. “We have all of us been blessed this fey by having her will shown to us so clearly, taking from our shoulders the burden of the necessity to judge truth from lie. All of us have seen the life sign given by Mida hanging passively and protectively upon the breast of the Hosta; need we ask any further questions upon the point of who Mida’s chosen might be?”

No single voice rose to give disagreement to Ennat’s words, and truly do I believe that most were unable to utter a sound of any sort. All in view of the Keeper’s tent had witnessed Kalir’s manner of ending, and nearly all were surely filled with the same illness which attempted to twist my insides free. Death comes to us all, with some fortunate enough to find it in the midst of the glory of battle, yet none I had ever met had earned an ending such as Kalir’s. To be consumed alive in the flames of sacrilege, to have no least hope of defending oneself! the illness rose up with even greater force within me, sending me down to one knee, sending the flames of imagination racing through my own body. The heat I felt was sickening, there in the brightness of Mida’s fey, and nearly was I overcome completely.

“Jalav, what ails you?” came Ennat’s voice as though from afar, and then were there hands upon my arms, and exclamations in the voices of males.

“Her flesh burns as though she, too, were afire!” came the voice of Mehrayn, a wildness in it. “How does this come to be? What are we to do for it?”

“Perhaps water,” said Chaldrin, the hand which was surely his tightening upon my arm. “We must immerse her in water, and drive this fever from her!”

“No!” said another voice, one which seemed like S’Heernoh’s, yet was it filled with greater authority and force than it had ever held. “The life sign, we must replace the life sign upon her, to quiet its agitation! If we fail to do so, she will not survive!”

With the sound of many voices and presences about me I attempted to force open the lids which had closed over my eyes, yet to no avail. The illness and flame heat rose higher and higher within me, and then came a touch which brought the ending of darkness.

Dim was the candle-lit interior of Ennat’s tent, close in the warmth of the fey which had not advanced far from the time the darkness had taken me. I had awakened to find myself upon the sleeping leather of the Keeper, my life sign returned to its place about my neck, all illness and flame heat gone from my flesh. I had sighed with relief at their blessed absence, then had raised myself to sitting to look about at those who filled the tent.

“Mida sees to her own,” said Ennat, smiling in satisfaction as she came forward with a pot of brewed daru for me. “I had no doubt that you would be returned to full health, Jalav of the Midanna.”

“I, too, had no doubts,” said Chaldrin, who sat to my left, “yet am I greatly relieved to see you awake, sister.”

“And I!” said Mehrayn, lookin upon me from his place to my right. Much did it seem that he wished to touch me, yet was he aware of the life sign I wore, the life sign which would take the pleasure from his touch. “Do you hunger, wench?” he asked, keeping his light eyes upon me. “You slept the healing sleep only for a short while, yet have you ever wakened from it with hunger.”

“I know not whether my hunger stems from that or from not having fed in some time,” said I, sipping at the daru to quiet the inner rumblings Mehrayn’s words had brought forth. “What ever the cause, hunger is most certainly with me.”

“Allow me to see to the fetching of your provender,” said Ennat, crouching to put aside her own pot of daru before straightening again. “Your presence honors my tent, Jalav of the Midanna, and I would see the honor continue for a while.”

Her warm smile lit her way from the tent, and for a long moment no other word was spoken. Mehrayn and Chaldrin and Aysayn and Ilvin and Wedin and Dotil and I; all of us sat unspeaking, and nearly unmoving.

“To think that that nearly was done to Ladayna,” said Aysayn at last, a tremor of illness passing through the dark eyes of him. “Had she not only taken her life sign, had she attempted to put it about her neck—”

“Surely Sigurr guarded her and kept her from it,” said Mehrayn, attempting to soothe his brother’s upset. “We none of us know the full power of the sign given by the gods, yet were we all guarded from it. None were harmed—save that one who sought to steal the power for her own. Even my wench now sits before us restored to health.”

“For which we all thank the gods,” said Aysayn with a nod, producing something of a smile. “Nevertheless, as soon as our battle with the coming strangers is done and I have returned to the city, Ladayna will be taught the true meaning of punishment. Never will I forget the sight of those flames rising from the female’s flesh, consuming her with agony... !”

“Brother, enough!” protested Chaldrin, his eyes upon the trembling which had come to my hands. I, too, would never find the sight of Kalir’s ending leaving me, and this was an added burden I must carry: never again to allow another the touching nor taking of my life sign. The true blame for the doing was mine alone, for had I sought out Kalir before she awakened and reclaimed the life sign, it would not have been able to do her as it did. Had I not been so pleased to be free of the thing, had I not been so foolishly unconcerned—Abruptly I emptied the pot of daru I held, put it aside, then removed my life sign, angrily pulling it free of my hair before wrapping its leather about the hilt of the dagger in my leg bands. That dagger was the one given me by Mida, the matching sword lying to the right of the leather I sat upon, neither showing the least harm from having been upon Kalir at the time of her ending. It gave me little surprise to see it so, for the weapons were also possessions of the goddess, as was the life sign I wrapped about the hilt of the dagger. Although I must surely keep that life sign from the hands of others, I would not allow it to bind me to it, taking all of pleasure from my life, leaving naught save duty and lack of feeling. Little enough of pleasure was allowed Mida’s chosen, and this little I would not permit to be taken from me!

“It was my intention to thank you earlier, sisters,” said I to Wedin and Dotil, deliberately seeing naught of Aysayn’s embarrassment and the faint dismay of Chaldrin and Mehrayn. No more was to be spoken upon the matter of my life sign, and this the males quickly understood.

“For what do you thank us, Jalav?” asked Wedin, raising herself from the floor leather to take my emptied pot and turn toward the fire with it. “Little aid were we able to give you, with our sisters guarding us so closely. They feared we would be branded traitors, you see, and had no wish for so dishonorable a fate to touch us.”

“It must please you to know that the love of your clan sisters is yours,” said I, smiling my thanks for the refilled pot which Wedin brought me. “The tale of your escaping from observation long enough to build the pit must truly be one to be told and retold.”

“Pit?” said Dotil as Wedin reclaimed her place beside her. “What pit do you speak of, Jalav? We built no pit, nor were we able to escape from our sisters. They bound us in leather to be certain of this, and we were unable to free ourselves.”

“And yet there was a pit in the forest,” said I, speaking slowly and sipping at the daru in an attempt to clear the renewed confusion from my thoughts. “In the trial I was put to, with the pursuing warriors no more than a pair of reckid behind me, pain and weariness curling me nearly to the ground—a covered pit in a ring of bushes was my salvation, taking me from the sight of those who hunted me, allowing me the time of rest and healing I would not survived without. Also was there provender in the pit to heal my hunger—and bits of cloth in Summa blue and Hosta green to guide me to this haven. And you say you have no knowledge of it?”

“Not we,” said Wedin, exchanging looks of deep mystification with her sisters. “Perhaps the males—?”

“I know naught of any pit in the forest,” said Aysayn with a shrug, looking to Ilvin. “Likely we rode at the time with this wench and the others with her, attempting to reach this place.”

“And the Sword and I were otherwise engaged,” said Chaldrin as Ilvin nodded her agreement with Aysayn. “Even had we known of your need, girl, there were too many seeking the service of those who followed you, to allow us the opportunity for such a doing. We, also, know naught of it.”

“Surely it was the doing of your lady,” said Mehrayn, and this time his hand came to touch my hair. “As your need was so very great, she took what measures she could to see to it.”

“Perhaps,” I allowed, not caring to speak my thoughts more fully. Never before had Mida given me even half so great an amount of assistance, and I could not bring myself to believe she had this time done so. Where the pit had come from I knew not, yet was this no more than one mystery among many.

“And were you greatly pleasing to those who demanded your service?” asked Ilvin of Chaldrin, an evil leer covering her face. “A male such as you among the Hitta would have been drained to the final drop before being allowed the sleep of exhaustion.”

“I think, wench, I must show you how far a distance it is to my final drop,” said Chaldrin with calm pleasure, looking upon Ilvin the while Mehrayn. Aysayn and the Summa laughed. “Never yet have I done so, yet surely has the proper time now arrived. You will have the feyd you require before needing to take seat again upon the back of a kan.”

“You intend, for once, to pleasure me fully?” Ilvin asked with a look of delight, and then did the leer return to her. “Indeed is such a doing more than past time, for in all other respects you appear quite hardy. Afterward, when you find yourself unable to walk, I will even fetch provender to you.”

“Perhaps a short taste of the leather first,” said Chaldrin against further laughter, his tone now musing. “An insolent wench fairly begs for taming, and I am not a man to ignore the pleas of a female. At darkness, then, eh, wench, and in a place none will disturb us?”

His dark-eyed gaze rested fully upon Ilvin, and she, despite the continuing laughter all about her, forbore to reply. She knew not whether the male spoke in jest, and behind her own gaze undoubtedly lay the memory of the strength of Chaldrin’s arm, yet her words of provocation had been spoken and could not be recalled. I saw the question come into her eyes upon the wisdom of also speaking words of apology, yet that decision would not be easily made by her. If she truly desired the use of Chaldrin, which she had not had in some feyd, she would find it necessary to meet with him at darkness. At that time would she either speak in apology or accept what punishment he gave, and I knew not which she would chooses—or whether she would not choose another thing entirely. The matter lay between two warriors, and between them would it be seen to.

The next moment saw Ennat returned with my provender, and full welcome was it to the hollow within me. Mehrayn growled out his disgust with me for not having seen to the need sooner, for the manner in which I fell upon the provender spoke eloquently of how great that need was, and Ennat fell again to frowning. The Keeper seemed outraged that a male would speak so to Mida’s chosen, yet merely did she swallow daru till I had fed my fill, and then did she suggest that I be allowed a time of uninterrupted rest. To my annoyance all those who sat with me agreed at once, and before I might voice another preference, the last of them was gone through the tent flap. I had little interest in either rest or solitude, yet it seemed I was destined to have both. I took up my pot of daru and leaned down to one elbow upon the sleeping leather, unsure of whether I felt annoyed or amused. When I finished the daru I would leave the tent, and then would all of those who followed me see how little need I had for rest.

“My lady war leader.” The soft words spoken at the tent flap drew me to sitting once again, for S’Heernoh had entered with as little sound as he ever made. He smiled when he saw the greeting in my eyes, and bowed his curious bow.

“Once again you have returned to health, and once again I am well pleased,” said he. “Are you in great need of rest, or may I speak with you?”

“My need for rest exists only in the minds of those who have just departed here,” I replied, gesturing with the daru. “Come and sit with me, S’Heernoh, so that I may thank you once again for your aid.”

“I believe I have already said that thanks are unnecessary,” said he, coming forward to take seat not far from me. “I would not have interfered, save that the meaning of what I had seen upon the Snows came to me then, and I had no doubt as to the proper course of action.”

“You saw—all this—upon the Snows?” I asked, dismayed. “For what reason did you not speak of it sooner?”

“For the reason that I had no understanding of what I saw,” he replied, his now unsmiling face giving indication that once again he felt the weight of responsibility upon his shoulders. “There were two female hadat, and flames through both of them, and truly did I believe that the black-rimmed golden glow which moved from one to the other indicated an event of pure symbolism. In such a manner are certain events hidden from us, cloaked in symbolism we cannot hope to penetrate. Only at the last was I able to see that the black-rimmed golden glow—your life sign—must be returned to you, else would the flames consume you as well. One path showed as much, a path I had only caught a glimpse of before being forced to return. I had spent too long a time studying the main path, you see, attempting to make sense of it.”

“And this, I have no doubt, was that which I was kept from seeing myself,” I said with a nod of understanding. “Had I seen to female hadat, I would have at once suspected another Midanna in the thing, and known that the black-rimmed golden glow could only be my life sign. Black for Sigurr and gold for Mida, and in no manner would I have allowed the thing to occur. Were you able to see the reason so foul a happening was necessary?”

“I saw naught of such a reason, yet it might well be too soon for it to be seen,” said he, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Also might the reason be clearly before us, such as the manner in which these wenches now follow you without question. Upon the Snows such a reason is at times regarded as sufficient, no matter the manner in which mortal men regard it.”

“I dislike such soulless lack of feeling,” said I with a grimace of distaste. “We must make an effort to disassociate ourselves from the Snows, to remove the hold they seem to have upon us.”

“Remove the hold of the Snows?” he echoed, seemingly taken with great confusion. “Jalav, the Snows have no hold upon those of this world, rather are they shaped by the doings to be found here. The Snows are no more than the times coming to be, an advance reflection of that which we, ourselves, will cause. They have no strength to shape our lives.”

“Then what of those things that are so firmly fixed that no other paths appear at that point?” I demanded, beginning to grow annoyed with the lack of understanding in the male. “What of those things which are shielded from us so that we may do naught to avoid them? It is this which we must disassociate ourselves from, this slavery to the will of the Snows!”

“Lady, I have no words with which to speak to you,” said the male with his faint, odd smile. “My words or lack thereof are entirely irrelevant, for I will certainly follow where you lead. I have no desire to do aught else. Would you have me tell you of what else I saw upon the Snows?”

“Indeed,” said I, curious as to what this might be. “It was my understanding that you had not the time to remain and see what more there was.”

“This I saw but a short time ago,” said he, “when you lay in the sleep of healing. I walked the Snows to be sure no other pitfalls lay in your path, and saw the place we travel to from here. Large is that city, and filled with many more of your wenches—and when we arrive there it will also be surrounded by many men.”

“Males?” I frowned, looking sharply upon the Walker. “What males? In what numbers?”

“Many men in large numbers, yet not so large a number as you now lead,” said he, his voice attempting to be soothing. “Some are led by a blue male gando, and more are led by a large white lanthay. The lanthay is accompanied by a red flame and a winged revro.”

“Galiose?” I asked in shocked disbelief, knowing the blue gando might be none other than he. “And Telion and Lialt and—Ceralt?”

In a whisper did the last name come from my throat, and I sat unmoving as my hands trembled about the pot of dare I held. My warriors in Bellinard were to be besieged by Galiose and Ceralt? And I was to appear with greater numbers and end the siege? By attacking? Ceralt?

“Jalav, your war leaders press for an opportunity to speak with you,” said Ennat from the tent flap, her frown now for S’Heernoh. “They would hear more of the gods we soon ride to do battle with.”

“Gods?” I echoed, so deeply awhirl that I knew not what she spoke of. “We do not ride to do battle with gods, merely with strangers from the skies.”

“These strangers are enemies of Mida, are they not?” she asked, looking upon me with puzzlement. “What other thing than gods might be those who come from the skies and are enemies to a god? Would our aid be necessary against mortals?”

The words hung between us as they also echoed in my mind, and slowly did I come to realize that Ennat spoke no other thing than truth. The enemies of gods were indeed gods themselves, and yet the thought had never before occurred to me.

I rose to my feet to stand tall amidst all the confusion I felt, tossing my head to free my arms of the strands of hair which nearly bound them. I rode to Bellinard to battle the gods—and also—perhaps—one who was no god at all.