“What means this?” demanded the male of Ceralt, his hand awave toward the conveyance and myself. “Has our High Rider become so fond of city ways that he must return with tainted city women? For shame, Ceralt! I had thought better of you!”
Very slightly did Ceralt’s hold upon me tighten, though his gaze upon the other male held naught save mildness. “In truth, Uncle, I had not known I held such esteem in your thoughts,” said he, and the skin of the other darkened in the torchlight. “Nevertheless,” continued Ceralt with mildness, “I would set your mind at rest. The wench is no city woman, but is the one spoken of by the Snows. Should her health return with sufficient rapidity, she shall ride upon the journey of the Snows, in company with Lialt and myself.”
“Indeed, she has not the look of a city female,” the uncle said low, his forehead awrinkle. “Should she truly be the one spoken of by the Snows, she shall be welcomed,” the male allowed stiffly. “Such, however, remains to be seen. In whose halyar is she to dwell till the time of questioning?”
Again Ceralt’s grip upon me tightened. “She shall dwell in my halyar,” said he, nearly as stiffly as the other had spoken. “The wench now belongs to me.”
Much muttering again arose with the announcement, and many gasps from the females who stood behind the males accompanied it as well. Defiantly Ceralt stood in the face of all, and near to explosion did the male before him seem.
“I shall do no more than ask the required questions,” choked the male, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, perhaps to keep them from the knife at his belt. Greatly disturbed was he, for no reason easily apparent. “From what circle was she drawn?” he demanded. “Before which elder was this accomplished? With what approval did her father look upon these acts?”
With teeth clenched Ceralt stood before those demands, angered yet voiceless. Little understanding had I of what eventuated between these two, yet I knew the look of one who was an enemy. He called uncle was not fond of Ceralt, and surely did Ceralt mean to defy him in some manner, yet Lialt approached his brother and placed hand upon arm before further words might be spoken.
“Ceralt, it is not wise to gainsay custom,” advised Lialt softly, a compassionate look to his eyes. “All may be properly seen to with the blessing of the Serene Oneness. Surely, there is little need at the moment to defy the oldest custom of our people? The girl will not be prepared to receive you for some time.”
Unmoving was Ceralt, seemingly unhearing as well, and then his eyes came to me. Much had I disliked his claimed ownership of me, and such must he have seen in my own eyes, for capitulation came to him then, and slowly he nodded.
“Very well,” said he, his voice weary. “It shall be as custom demands, and I shall draw her from the circle in due time. Now must we find a halyar for her as quickly as possible. I would have her out of the cold as she is not accustomed to it.”
“Desslar’s halyar is as yet untenanted,” offered a voice from those males who stood about. “With a bit of cleaning, it should do her.”
“The cleaning is not immediately necessary,” said Ceralt with a nod. “Do you go now, Cimilan, and light one fire.” The male nodded and left at a run, and Ceralt turned his gaze to the male called uncle. “In this shall matters go as you wish, Uncle,” said he to the tight-lipped male. “Do not presume to think it shall ever be so. I am High Rider in my father’s place not merely through birth.”
Such coldness was there in Ceralt’s tone that the male before him did not attempt to give further voice to his outrage. For a moment the two stood eye to eye, and then the older male reluctantly backed a pace.
He who held me took the path silently, with shoulders straight, and many males with torches accompanied us, leaving he called uncle to stand within the darkness. With deliberation was I carried to a small dwelling, all of dark-appearing wood, and then inside. He who had been called Cimilan had begun a small blaze in the fireplace in a corner of the room, and little was there to be seen by it, save the bare surrounding of the single room. Stale and musty was the air in the dwelling, speaking clearly of its previous emptiness, and all in all, I liked it not. The tents of the Hosta gave none of the trapped, closed-in feel that this dwelling did, and much like the dwellings of those of the cities was it, soulless and not for those who are fond of freedom. Despite the cold of the air of the darkness, I determined that I would not long stay in a dwelling such as that.
Gently did Ceralt place me upon the wooden floor not far from the fire, and a moment later Lialt appeared, a wooden bowl in his hands, a skin of water hung over his shoulder. First I drank from the skin, for a great thirst had overtaken me, and then I fed from the contents of the bowl. Undoubtedly not nilno was the meat cut up therein, yet was it edible to some small degree, being much too well cooked by the fire. Somewhat discomforted was I as I fed, for the males with torches stood about silently, eyeing me with an interest I could not fathom. No more than my shoulders and cloth-bound arms were visible about the lenga pelt, yet did they stare upon me where I lay against Lialt’s arm, being fed the cuts of meat. At last, I would have no more of such stares, and firmly refused the balance of the meat, thinking to be rid of the males along with the remnants of the meal. Lialt was not pleased with my decision, yet he accepted it, spilling the meat from the bowl before taking a thin fold of cloth from his leather chest covering, and emptying its contents in the place of the meat. When water was added to that which had been in the cloth, I grew apprehensive, recalling the many potions given me at various times by males, and attempted to deny the drink, yet Lialt and Ceralt would have none of it. Easily did they force the drink upon me, holding me unmoving as I choked and sputtered, and then a great weariness came up from my feet, covering me heavily till at last I knew no more.
5
A new place of capture—and a questioning by males
Foul was the taste in my mouth when I awakened to the new light coming through dingy windows. I lay upon my back a moment, recalling with anger the potion which had been forced upon me, wondering as to its purpose. Though the fire burned high and hot not far from where I lay, no other remained within the room to feed it. Perhaps the potion had merely been meant to cause sleep to take me, yet I could not fail to remember the slave-potion Ceralt and the other males of Bellinard had used to capture the Hosta in their own home tents. Devious are males, and seldom forthright, and unhappy was the fey that first saw their paths entwined with those of warriors.
Crossly, I moved myself to sitting, and then found the air within the dwelling much less chill by cause of the warmth of the fire. I threw the covering pelt from me, firstly to increase my comfort, and secondly to examine the state of my wounds. As soon as my legs were again able to bear my weight, I would find some manner of escaping the hold of these males and returning to my own land.
Slowly and clumsily I unwrapped the cloth from about my right calf. The wound upon my leg showed itself only partially healed, a raw, red slash still clear evidence of the one-time presence of a Silla spear. Easily might Helis have allowed me a sword, yet the Silla war leader had not chosen to do so, choosing instead to await me at the end of the lines. Should she and I ever face one another again, sorely would she regret her former actions. All do act through the will of Mida, yet oft times Mida does no more than allow us our choice of actions—and their consequences. Helis had had her choice of actions, and one fey, Mida willing, the consequences would also be hers.