“When you are strong enough to hold meat and vegetables, the healing shall progress at a faster pace,” said he, putting aside the pot. “Now for the wounds.”
From a place behind the other lenga pelts, he took a pot and a pack which proved to contain cloth, and both things did he bring to where I lay. Then he withdrew my left arm from beneath the furs, and began to remove the bloody cloth upon it. Little pain was there till but one layer of cloth was left upon the wound, and then the cloth attempted to cling to the flesh of me.
“Steady,” said the male, compassion clear in his tone. “The rest shall be easier to bear.” Scraping sounds did I hear then, and cool smoothness touched the flaming ache upon my arm. “My name is Lialt,” said he as his fingers did their work. “How did you come by wounds such as these, girl? Never have I seen their like not made by a spear.”
“Indeed it was spears which made them,” I gasped, fighting dizziness. “I walked the lines for the Silla trash, yet was I unable to take the sword.” I spoke of my shame without giving thought to it.
“Spears?” echoed he called Lialt, his fingers unmoving upon my arm. “Sword? What might a female have to do with such things’? And who are these men called Silla who would so misuse a woman?”
Through the dizziness laughter arose within me, thinking of the fury the Silla would feel had they heard themselves called males. “The Silla are not males, but warriors such as I,” I informed Lialt weakly, yet with the remembrance of a grin. “Silla shall ever do a Hosta so when they may, for so would Hosta do them, had we the opportunity. Silla and Hosta be blood enemies.”
“Blood, indeed,” muttered this Lialt, again bending to his task. “Never have I heard of females acting so, and never would Belsayah allow such. My brother must truly be a child of the Snows that he takes such a woman as you for his own. With scores of proper Belsayah women aburn for him—” Abruptly did his words end, and he sighed. “Yet, how may a man avoid his path through the Snows? I, better than any, should know the futility of such an attempt. Brace yourself now, wench, for I must see to the other wounds.”
Again was the lenga pelt moved from me, and his hands banished all thoughts of the cold. The last I saw was his dark head bent over me, a frown creasing his face, and then the light was no more.
I awoke to the jostling movement of the conveyance, the light of the fey having returned as I lay within a darkness of my own. Again was I belly down within the furs, and annoyance touched me that I had been turned so once more. I would know as much as I might of where the males took me, for the return trek would be mine alone. Slowly and carefully, I turned to my back, and this second movement was much the easier. Nearly gone was the pain in my back, and the spear wounds troubled me less as well. Soon would Jalav again be fit to travel, and then would the males seek her in vain.
To my disappointment, there was as little to see upon my back as upon my belly. I moved my toes about within the pelts as I studied the skies, and quickly the sway and creak of the conveyance caused my eyelids to grow heavy. I must have slept heavily all fey, for the next I knew, all was silence about, and the flame within, the metal again approached. As the instance previous, Lialt carried the flame to where I lay, his light eyes examining me closely.
“I know not whether to be pleased or not that you are again awake,” said he with familiar disapproval as he crouched beside me. “Though two feyd have passed since your last awakening, you should not be moving about so. Have I not said this to you?”
Quite sternly did the male look upon me, and easily might it be seen that my position must be made clear to him. Although the male had been of some assistance, I no longer wished the bother of him. With some small difficulty I removed my arm from beneath the lenga pelts so that I might move the pelts away from my face.
“Jalav thanks you for your previous assistance, male,” I informed him with courtesy. “Now shall Jalav see to herself, and should it be possible to return the favor, it shall be done.”
“Shall it,” he murmured, and then he snorted in amusement. “Jalav is far from able to see to herself, wench, and she shall obey Lialt till she is up and about. Let us first see what damage you have done to the wounds, and then we shall see to your feeding. ”
His hands moved toward the lenga pelt, yet I closed my fist about it, disallowing movement. “I have said that I shall see to myself!” I snapped, disliking his manner. “Have you naught else to occupy you that you must remain where you are unwelcome? Leave me, and we shall say no more upon it! The war leader of the Hosta of the Midanna demands to be left in Mida’s peace!”
“No,” came a deep, calm voice before Lialt had found his tongue. “The former war leader Jalav may no longer demand. In future, she shall ask for that which she wishes, and in a proper manner more becoming to a wench.”
Surely did I know to whom the voice belonged, and surely had I known for some time that it was he, yet had I refused to admit my knowledge as I then refused to look upon him. My eyes upon the leather covering of Lialt, I shook my head and whispered, “No!” and then attempted to raise myself from the pelts. Lialt’s large hands were immediately upon my arms, forcing me down, and my small store of strength was uselessly spent.
“She is the spawn of Sigurr, Ceralt!” said Lialt in vexation, astare upon my face. “See how she has paled through overtaxing herself so! This darkness I shall read the Snows again, for surely she cannot be the one they speak of!”
“She is the one,” replied Ceralt, coming nearer to where I lay. Still did I keep my eyes from him, and the cold of the darkness entered me more fully. “She is the one,” said he, “and I knew of it even before the Snows spoke of it to you. How does she fare?”
Lialt made a sharp sound of annoyance. “How may I know?” he demanded. “She will not allow me to look upon her! What is this matter of war leader of which she speaks? What means it?”
“It means naught,” said Ceralt, “for the condition no longer applies. Jalav. Remove your hands from the lenga pelt so that Lialt may see to you.”
My fingers gripped the pelt, holding it to me, my weakness a curse upon my will. Slowly, with reluctance, my eyes raised to him. He, too, wore leather of the sort which Lialt wore, and strange did he seem without the city-male covering of cloth. Such strange feelings did the sight of him bring to me, feelings which a warrior was not meant to know. I shook my head once more and again whispered, “No!” and my meaning was not lost upon him.
“You may not deny it,” said he, crouching beside Lialt. “You are mine, and shall ever be so. Had you not left Ranistard by your own devices, I would have taken you from there.”
Then his hands went to mine and gently removed the pelt from the clutch of my fingers. I had the will to attempt to pull from his grip yet was I even more lacking in strength than usual. Lialt removed the pelt and looked upon the cloth bindings, grunting in approval when no blood was to be seen upon them, and after considerable inspection, he replaced the pelt. Ceralt’s eyes had been upon me as well, the set of his jaw and the tightening of his grip speaking well of his disturbance, and then his eyes moved to mine.
“Never again shall such a thing occur,” he vowed raspingly, my hands yet in his possession, his anger clear. “Not again shall Jalav take weapon in hand, for whatever reason!”
Slightly did I move in his grip and return his lowering look. “Jalav had no weapon in hand,” said I distinctly. “Think you such would have come to be, had I a sword to wield?”