“ . . . no other openings,” said one male as I reached the group. “Further corridors lay only through the chamber where Sigurr sits, delighting in Deela’s use and Hannil’s madness.”
“We cannot return there,” said Ceralt, hand amove through long dark hair in a gesture more than weary. “We cannot take our wenches through a place such as that.”
“We must return there,” said I, drawing the eye of every male, causing Ceralt to rise quickly to his feet. “Our path leads forward, no matter the cost.”
“Satya, how do you fare?” asked Ceralt, coming close to put his arms about me. “With all that has occurred, you must rest till the shock has passed.”
“I have no further need of rest,” I assured him, putting my hand briefly to his face. “We cannot remain here, Ceralt. There is further to come should we attempt it.”
Ceralt’s face turned pale with my words, undoubtedly remembering the last warning I had spoken. I knew not how the certainty of further ill had come to me; I knew only the truth of the words I uttered. The other males muttered and stirred where they sat and stood, unable to face the possibility of further distress, unable to gather the strength of decision to depart the seemingly peaceful surroundings. The decision, however, was not theirs in any event. Ceralt’s color returned, yet the shaking of his head seemed to take the life from him.
“We cannot depart till we hear Lialt’s words,” said he, nodding toward a far corner of the cavern. The other male sat surrounded by the Clouds of Seeing, his eyes upon a scene other than that which his sight presented him. Telion sat near to Lialt, his attention full upon the other male, his body far from relaxed. “There has been enough of blind movement, enough of thoughtless flight and doing.”
“The delay, will not aid us,” said I, speaking the words yet seemingly hearing them for the first time. It was as though another spoke through me, putting the new knowledge in my mind and upon my tongue. The thought gave me no discomfort, for it was undoubtedly Mida who acted so, seeing, as ever, to the safety of her warrior. Again Ceralt looked grave at that which he heard, yet his light eyes remained determined. I shrugged at the decision which in reality delayed decision, moved from his arms, and crouched down to await what would come.
Time passed, and all those within the cavern ceased pretending they engaged in necessary activity. The males sat as they had been, only now their females sat beside them, making no sound save an occasional sob of fear and despair, most seeking the arms of their males in an attempt to find comfort. The torches sputtered in their niches around the cavern, yet it seemed as though the edging darkness had begun an advance, creeping stealthily upon us where we waited. Ceralt had sat deep in thought awhile, yet now he paced back and forth, much like a lenga in a pit, seeking a way out where there was none. His eyes constantly sought the dreaming Lialt, desiring an awakening, seeing naught save the movement of pipe to lips, naught save the emptiness of unblinking eyes. At last he could no longer stand the stretch of endless time, and strode with determination to where his brother sat. Enlisting Telion’s aid, the two began working to rouse him who was called Pathfinder.
Returning Lialt to our presence was not an easy thing. The male resisted all attempts for quite some time, yet at last Ceralt was rewarded with blinking eyes and low, protesting groans, bringing murmurs of relief from all who now stood about watching closely. Only I had been warned away from the area which yet contained traces of the Clouds of Seeing, an unreasonable demand with matters as they stood. Had Ceralt been less foolishly male in his outlook, I might have fetched Lialt forth much the sooner.
“He stirs!” said Famira, who stood by my side. “He has returned to his body and soon will speak to us!”
“Doubtless with words of wisdom,” I murmured, looking about the cavern. Sand and small bits of rock dribbled down from the entrance through which we had originally come, near silent in its descent and small in its beginning. Soon other slides would join the first, perhaps eventually becoming a river, yet there we stood, awaiting Lialt and the salvation he would bring.
“Lialt, what did you see?” demanded Ceralt, holding his brother to a sitting position. “What signs do the Snows send us?”
“I—” Lialt began, then fell to a fit of coughing. When the spasm passed he continued. “I understand naught of what I have seen. There were no signs.”
“How is that possible?” frowned Ceralt, well aware of the mutterings behind him. “The Snows have ever given us signs.”
“It must be this place,” groaned Lialt, fighting from Ceralt’s arm to struggle erect and look about himself. “The Snows are covered with clouds of fog, disallowing all seeing, as though the future may not be. I walked as far as I was able, hoping to pierce the fog, and soon became lost. Had you not roused me, I might never have returned.”
Many cried out at this, male and female alike, and some began weeping with a hopelessness born of self-defeat. Famira, too, moaned with despair, yet how might one consider oneself defeated with life remaining and Mida uncondemning?
“Should we fail to depart soon, none will return,” I called across the cavern to Ceralt, causing him to jerk his head around. “Do you propose to wait till all of the roof has fallen to the floor?”
He and the others followed the direction indicated by my arm, and again gasps and moans of fright echoed about. I was much out of patience with males, and surely this had been heard in my voice. Ceralt gave no more than a glance to the slide, then left Lialt to walk to the center of the cavern.
“Gather up no more than food and drink,” he commanded the others, speaking to them yet looking only upon me. “We must leave here within ten reckid. Jalav, come here to me.”
Famira hurried to do as the others did, frantically and with great misery. I stood where I was no more than a moment, then went to stand before Ceralt as he had commanded. His face showed no expression, yet the light eyes gazing down upon me were cold with anger.
“Again you disapprove of my actions,” said he, his voice menacingly soft. “You are not the leader of this expedition, nor even second in command. Tell me what you are.”
He stood with arms afold, awaiting the words his eyes commanded, yet I could not again profess myself wench beneath a male. Even should he beat me before the others, I was able to speak no more than the truth.
“I am a warrior,” said I, meeting the anger in his eyes. “A war leader of Mida, ever about her business. You may not deny this.”
“I do deny it,” he growled, showing the increase in anger no place save in his eyes. “It is only my business which you may be concerned with—now and forever more. Kneel before me.”
Again I hesitated to obey him, yet there was naught else I might do. Slowly, reluctantly, I went to my knees upon the graveled stone floor before him, nearly feeling the male’s pleasure at my actions and the reluctance behind them.
“Perhaps it now returns to you whose word must be obeyed,” said he, looking down past his folded arms. “Should it be my wish, we shall remain here till this floor is covered with sand and rock. The decision remains mine alone. Now put your brow to the floor.”
Beneath his eyes I did as he commanded, then heard the sound of his footsteps, taking him elsewhere. The fury was high within me that he would treat me so, and I raged silently as I knelt, feeling naught of the stones beneath my knees and head. And then sounds came to me of the movement of others about the cavern, others who saw what Ceralt had done and perhaps paused in their hung to smile. While the male held my word I was bound to him, constrained to obey his every command as though I were the lowest of slave-women, the meanest of females. The flames of rage died to burning coals of shame. So much for the folly of a warrior’s tongue, when speech will bring no smallest taste of glory, no more than a punishment fit for a girl.