I stirred again upon the furs, turning my head here and there, seeing the male slaves ranged upon their knees before a side wall, heads deferentially down, shoulders bowed, eyes upon the floor before them, bodies draped in scanty cloth of green which failed to cover that which made them male. Had I need of one, I had only to summon him with word or gesture. That had been whispered to me when first I had opened my eyes, wildly fearful, much in pain, prepared to continue screaming. The sight of such slavey males sickened me, yet relief was there beside the illness; had the males been free and proud, I could not have faced them.
Two hands of reckid and more passed as I lay upon the furs, my thoughts darting about here and there, touching my time with Sigurr fleetingly, lightly, as one would touch tongue to mouth sore, testing to see if pain remained. At last I could bear the shock of testing no longer, therefore did I turn to one side and force myself to sitting, using strength of arm to keep myself so. Dizziness touched me, whirling round and round in brief sport, then did it go elsewhere to bedevil another. I had no true wish to examine my body, yet when I moved to pull my hair from beneath me, my eyes found the bruises which marked me well. Upon breasts and thighs and belly were they, round and black and set within my flesh to show how he had touched me, that god of males. The slave males had been about washing me when I had first awakened, yet I felt the need to bathe in deep, clear streams, full with scrubbing sand, far from the caves I sat in.
And then my eyes were drawn to the life sign I had worn since first I had become a warrior, the life sign I had carved with my own hands from the tree which had been marked as mine at my birth. The sign of the hadat hung between my breasts as ever it had done, its lines full familiar to my eyes, yet no longer made of wood, stained in enemy blood. It had now become like Mida’s Crystals, light and clear as dream substance, filled with uneasy roiling. I stared at the gray, swirling mists, disbelieving the sight of my eyes, and then the swirling changed of its own, growing deeper and more throbbing, till at last it turned and moved in blackness. My eyes closed as I nearly shuddered but I felt a great leadenness, an understanding of how deeply I had been fouled. Sigurr breathed within my life sign, soiling my soul as he had soiled my body, marking me as his for all to see. This, then, was the sign he and Mida had spoken of, the sign of his touch upon me. I lay again upon the fur, curled up tight in a ball, all feelings of fear and loathing numb within me. Sigurr had become a part of me and would remain so forevermore.
Some time later a golden haze began forming not far from me, speaking, I knew, of Mida’s impending arrival. I considered continuing to lie as I was, then thought better of it and sat upon the fur. When Mida had formed completely within the mist, her lovely golden eyes moved closely all about me.
“I see you have returned to yourself,” said she, her voice light and lovely and concerned. “Have you memory of that which was done to you?”
“I have memory of it.” I nodded, holding her gaze. “His price was met.”
“And withstood,” she murmured, a strange glow touching her. “His sign and mine you now find on you, showing our approval, our confidence, our acceptance of you. More, Sigurr finds himself taken with you, in a manner of speaking. Never before has a mortal female given him such strength, such release. Should you survive the raising of his warriors and the following battle, I believe he will seek you again.”
“What more might he do that has not already been done?” I shrugged, truly unconcerned. Pain is pain, to be borne in silence; one’s soul may be tainted no more than once.
“Perhaps he may do a thing never before done,” said she, again in a murmur, then passed to other matters before I might ask her meaning. “When you leave here, you will first come upon my Midanna, led to the land of males by the Keeper Rilas, as yet unsure of what their actions should be. You will find them in the vicinity of Bellinard, for there comes the first work to your hand. The strangers will appear not far from Bellinard, and the city must be ours when they do. The males who dwell there would give up whatever asked for.”
“In fear,” I nodded, recalling the look of the male called High Seat in that—city. “They are of a low sort, to be easily taken by warriors.”
“Good,” said she. “In that city, now held captive by them, are certain Sigurri warriors. It is these warriors who will guide you to their brothers who must be returned to the city you will then hold. From there may the final battle be faced.”
Again I nodded, then leaned back in the fur upon one elbow. “So the Hosta were given into capture by males to allow Jalav to lead all the Midanna,” I said, watching Mida carefully. “Jalav herself was given to males to breed hate within her for the selfsame males. All was done with this final battle in mind.”
“Certainly,” smiled Mida, pleased with the understanding I had attained. “Jalav is my finest warrior, most beloved of my daughters. How might I have chosen another?”
“How, indeed?” I murmured, seeing all most clearly. Mida had placed me among males to learn hatred of them, yet it had only been memory of these meant-to-be-hated males that had kept me from madness at Sigurr’s hands. Memories of gentleness and laughter, care and comfort had held me during terror and pain, bolstering me to face the devastation of my soul. Never would I feel the hate Mida had wished for, not for those males, yet I remained bound in blood to Mida—and Sigurr as well. It would be foolishness to dwell upon what feelings I had for them.
“When may I leave this chamber to walk about your keep?” I asked, returning my gaze to Mida. “I would see what there is to see before my departure.”
“You may leave as soon as you are able,” smiled Mida, gathering her golden mist about her. “I will have guides awaiting you in the corridor without your door. We will speak again before you depart.”
The mists thickened, masking her smile, and soon she and her mists were gone once more. The male slaves, upon their knees by the wall, had put their heads to the floor at Mida’s appearance, straightening again only when her mists were gone. I gestured to one, telling him to bring provender, then slowly levered myself to my feet. Movement remained an ache and an effort, yet was it necessary that I ignore such things. Once again was I Jalav, war leader of Midanna, soon to face attack and battle. In battle there is room for thought of naught else.
A glance about the chamber showed my breech neatly folded by my fur boots, most likely returned to me by Mida and prepared against my need by the slaves. I went to don both, and only then saw clearly what lay beyond them, upon the fur of the floor. With breech in place and boots upon my feet, I bent to that which I had been too long without: a silver handled dagger complete with leg bands, and a leather scabbarded, silver-hilted sword. I drew the blade from its sheath to examine it, and found it to be an exact mate to the dagger; both were made of pale gold metal, chased with deep-set strokes of black. The strokes spoke no letter I had learned, yet did I feel they spoke in another tongue, one I had no knowledge of. It was a matter to be considered, yet of no real moment. The slave returned with the provender I had requested, therefore did I turn my attention to filling the hollow within me.
When I was done with feeding, I rose to my feet to consider the slaves. They knelt as they had earlier, beside the wall, heads bowed till they might be needed. A full hand of them were there, well-made males broad in the shoulder and chest, tall and seemingly strong, yet with fear and trembling clear in their eyes when those eyes dared to look upon me. What thing had taken their manhood from them I knew not, and though it continued to sicken me to look upon them, there was a manner in which they might serve me other than in obeying my commands. I chose two, one dark of hair and eye, the second red-gold haired and pale of eye, and with them following obediently behind me, left the chamber.