Abruptly, then, the door to the dwelling opened, allowing in a gust of cold air along with the form of a young female. Dark of hair and eyes was this female, of a size slightly greater than other city females, and strangely clad was she. No cloth was her covering but leather, closed to either side of her body by long leather ties, and about her waist was a belt of copper-colored metal, hugging the leather to her and displaying her form beneath it. The covering itself fell only to her knees, for below it, rising from her feet, were fur wrappings of the sort Lialt and Ceralt had worn.
“But you are not to sit up!” the female blurted, her pretty face distressed as she stepped the closer. “And what have you done to the bandage? Oh, Lialt will be furious!” Quickly she glanced at the door. “Lialt will be here in no more than a moment,” she fussed, seemingly in consternation. “Come, I will assist you in replacing the furs before his appearance.”
“Jalav does not care for the orders of strangers,” I informed the female, my eyes holding her once-again widened ones. “Jalav shall replace the covering when it is her wish to do so.”
Though my tone had held naught save mild annoyance, surely did the female behave as though faced with swordthreat. Carefully, her hand left the pelt I yet held, and in a slow scrabbling manner she backed away from where I sat. Her face, though she had the kalod to be a fully blooded warrior, appeared to be that of a child, frightened, unsure, open and vulnerable.
In a thin, quivering voice she began, “I did not mean to—” and then her eyes fell upon my wound. Pale she grew, and even more unsteady, and again the large, dark eyes returned to me. “I had not known what manner of hurt you had sustained,” she whispered, clearly touched. “The pain must hold you in constant grip. How might such a thing have come to be?”
Little understanding had I of the female’s actions, yet did I feel as though I spoke with a child of the clans, one far from knowledge of warriorhood and the ways of Mida. No warrior might honorably feel anger toward one such, nor does a warrior heap upon such a child knowledge which it is unnecessary for her to have. Never would the one before me prove a warrior, therefore had I little reason to give detail which would frighten.
“The manner of arrival of such things is unimportant.” I shrugged, attempting a soothing smile. “Rest assured that the wounds heal well and rapidly, and soon shall be no more. How are you called, girl?”
“I am Tarla,” said she quite eagerly, her face brightening. “I am most pleased to know you, Jalav, and I shall come each fey to see to your comfort. May I do you some service now?”
This female appeared as eager to please as my male Fideran had been, and surely did the thought cause me to smile in amusement. Not often is a Hosta warrior served so by a female, and never had I known such service till it became necessary to move among the places of males. Males are ever unable to fend for themselves, ever in need of one to do for them. This Tarla seemed well suited to the needs of males, and had undoubtedly been trained by them to be so. Child though she was, still was she a slave-woman to males, as are most city females, and now had her services been offered to me.
The thought came that a water skin might be well received by my throat, and just as I began to voice the thought the door opened once again, bringing a breath of cold and Lialt within side by side. Lialt quickly closed the door behind him, and as he did so, the female Tarla gasped in upset and rose to her feet.
“You must not enter, Pathfinder!” Tarla exclaimed, one hand extended before her as though to keep Lialt away by main strength. “Jalav is not yet prepared for you, and your presence now is improper!”
“My presence now is necessary, wench,” Lialt snorted, striding forward toward where I sat. “Jalav shall not be allowed the time to prepare as she most wishes to. And what has been done here?”
Sternly did the male look upon me with renewed anger, for he had seen the cloth I had removed from the wound. His light eyes flashed with disapproval, much as Ceralt’s were wont to do, and his broad, dark face creased in a frown. Deliberately, I reached out toward the cloth upon my left leg.
“All know that a wound kept from the sight of Mida cannot be thought to heal as rapidly as one exposed to her vision,” I murmured as I loosened the cloth. “Lialt need have little concern, and may now go about his business—elsewhere.”
Lialt knelt immediately and grasped my wrists in large, angry, male hands. “I grow exceedingly weary of a wench who doesn’t restrain her tongue!” he snapped, the strength of his grip tightening about my wrists. “Lialt’s coming and going may be dictated by the will of Ceralt, but none other may so direct him, and most certainly not a girl child! You will lie quietly in accordance with my wishes, and will not touch the bandage I place upon you, else will you be well punished! Heed my words, Jalav, for I have no further patience to spend upon you!”
Much did Lialt’s anger cause my own to blaze, and truly did I attempt to escape his grip. “Jalav is no slave-woman to be spoken to so!” I hissed, twisting at his hold. “Jalav may be directed by none save Mida, for Jalav is proven war leader of the Hosta! Should Lialt wish her obedience, he may face her with sword in hand, and thereby earn final obedience—or find that he has pledged his own! Choose now, male, and rest assured that your blood shall be dedicated to Mida in a proper manner!”
Numb had my wrists grown beneath the pressure of Lialt’s fingers, yet the male seemed unaware of the state he caused. His features seemed in some manner shadowed as he stared without movement at my indignation. No sound was there save the snap of the fire and the breathing of the two city-folk in my company, and then did Lialt think to bestir himself.
“I do not fail to note the sincerity in your offer,” said he quite softly, though something of anger yet remained. “I am appalled that a wench might be raised so, to fancy herself the match of a man with a man’s weapons, yet was it clear long ago that much must be taught you. The greater part of your teaching will come from Ceralt, yet there is that which may be supplied by me. I shall not shirk my duty.”
With those words I was forced flat upon the lenga pelt, and kept so as Lialt replaced the cloth about my right leg also tightening that which I had begun to loosen upon my left leg. Much did I rage and call down Mida’s wrath upon his head, yet were my words unheeded by the male, he uncaring as he went about that which he wished done. The blows I rained upon the arm and back of Lialt were as naught by cause of my weakness. Tarla stood atremble with distress, fearful of the male’s anger as a warrior would never be. Had it been Fayan or Larid who stood there, quickly would Lialt have found himself struck upon the head with firewood, or the object of merciless attack, but were my warriors far behind me, unable to aid their war leader. Alone among enemies was Jalav, subject to the whim of males. However Jalav was on the mend, soon to be well and strong again. Such thought sustained me as Lialt turned from my legs.
“I shall see you fed before I go,” said he as though I had never raised hand to him, and then his eyes moved upon me as they had never before done. Widely did he grin at that which took his eye, and much approval did he find in the sight of my breasts, his eyes leaving them reluctantly to come to my face. “You are a well-made wench, that I’ll grant,” said he with a lightness which caused my teeth to clench. “As you find the covering of your body unnecessary, I shall recommend to Ceralt that he display you so before the elders this fey when they call. Perhaps they shall be sufficiently distracted to cause less difficulty than they currently propose to do.”