Dark had come upon the third fey when at last he left me, bound as always, with a parting kick. Much displeased was he that duty called him to the ways which ran with mud from rain without halt, and in his displeasure had he much shamed me. Though I gave him not the full satisfaction he craved, still was I continually shamed at his hands, treated as less than slave. Never had he used me upon his sleeping platform, saying comfort was not for the likes of me, yet there had he taken his rest as I lay bound in leather upon the cloth. No word did I dare to speak to him, for surely had I allowed myself free rein, again a lash would have touched me.
Upon the third fey, I lay in near darkness with but one small candle left aglow, and gave thanks that the male would not return for some hind. Only then and when he slept was I free to do no more than breathe to my own urging. Upon that instance was breathing somewhat difficult, for again was the leather knotted tightly about my throat, yet was breathing so preferable to the presence of the male. No sound was there but that of the rain for a number of reckid, and then I heard the slow swing of the door. My eyes closed, thinking the male had returned to torment me further, yet was there naught save the sudden indrawing of breath, and a moment later was a gentle hand placed upon my shoulder.
“Jalav!” came a voice I knew even in a whisper. “What has been done to you?”
My head turned and my eyes opened to the face of Inala, she who had once been slave in Ceralt’s dwelling, she who was now chosen woman of the High Seat—and free. Small was Inala, as are all city slave-women, and possessed of dark hair and eyes, yet large were her eyes as she looked upon me, and filled with horror.
“Jalav, what has he done?” she gasped, moving aside her long, slave-woman’s covering of green so that she might kneel beside me. “Your face—and your back has not yet even begun to heal! I shall fetch Galiose at once!”
“Inala!” Though I was capable of no more than a croak, the word stayed her. Quickly she returned to my side, and took my face gently in her hands. “Inala, if you would aid me,” I whispered, “do not fetch another male to my sight. A dagger hangs upon the wall by the door. Should it be your wish to free me, such would serve.”
But a moment did she stare in upset, and then she was gone, immediately to return with the dagger. In three strokes was I freed, and shakily did I raise myself to sit upon the cloth. My wrists were marked from repeated use of the leather to bind me, as were my ankles, but that was nothing beside the constant burning of my back. Again Inala studied me, and then she hastened to fetch the pack she had brought and left by the door. Within was a large leg of roast lellin, cuts of nilno, dark bread still warm, and a small skin of renth. My stomach knotted at sight of the provender, and quickly did I fall upon it.
“Slowly, Jalav!” Inala cautioned, her hand upon my arm as she sat beside me. “Has he kept food from you as well?”
I took a moment to drink from the skin before I made reply. “No food was I given, yet twice was I made to drink of the slave gruel. ” My eyes went to her shadowy form where she sat, looking upon me with pain, and a thought came. “Inala,” said I. “For what reason have you come here?”
Her indignation grew, and her small shoulders squared. “I came knowing Galiose a fool!” she flared angrily. “Often have I asked his permission to visit you, yet has he refused, saying Nolthis had asked that his training of you not be disturbed and undone! Nolthis assured us all that you were well and healing, and that you had begun to obey him! Perhaps a man may be told such fantasies, but not I! This darkness I determined to visit you, and awaited no more than the departure of Nolthis.” Again her hand came to my arm, and tears showed in her eyes. “Jalav, are you able to forgive me for not having come sooner?”
Small amusement was there in the place of Nolthis, yet such brought something of a smile to me. “Inala, my sister,” said I quite softly, “I merely thank Mida for allowing you to come as soon as you have. And you, also, do I thank for touching me with your thoughts.”
The eyes of Inala filled further with tears. “Ah, Jalav,” she sighed. “How may I not think of you? Has not my freedom come about solely because of you? Am I to allow the memory to slip from me—as though it never was?”
“Such has occurred many times previous,” I murmured, gazing upon the provender with regret. No more than a hand of tastes had I been able to take, yet the renth did best by warming and invigorating me, therefore I pushed the provender away, yet retained the skin. I sat cross-legged upon the cloth, for long had it been since I had been able to do so.
“Jalav,” said Inala, “much has occurred since the arrival of the Silla. Would you hear of it?” At my nod, she composed herself to speak further. “No other clashes have occurred between Silla and Hosta,” said she, sober-faced, “yet all believe that once the weather clears there shall be further battle. Galiose intends to instruct Nolthis to bring his well trained Jalav to speak before the Hosta, bidding them to accept the Silla as sisters, and such, I believe, is the why of his taking the word of Nolthis. Galiose craves control of the Hosta through their war leader.”
“He shall not have it,” said I, drinking again from the skin. “Jalav would stand before Mida in shame sooner than betray the Hosta.”
“Galiose does not understand,” said she with a sigh of sadness. “No woman has ever dared to disobey him. Even I—” Again she sighed, and then she shook the thought from her. “In any event, the Silla are not pleased to find themselves in Ranistard, and wish only the opportunity of meeting with the Hosta with weapons in hand. Galiose thought to impose his will upon the Silla war leader, yet has the one who was looked upon as war leader in some manner departed from the city with perhaps ten others, having taken the lives of a number of men in their going. The weather does well to cloak one’s movements, and the Silla are not without skill.”
Wordlessly I nodded, thinking upon the Silla. Less than faith are the Silla trash, yet are they not unskilled.
“The Hosta have been disciplined for the incident of the feast,” continued Inala. “None may appear in public now, save upon a leash held firmly by her man. Many have felt the leather for their doing, yet harshest has been Fayan’s lot. Galiose has once again freed Nidisar, and has given her punishment to him to see to. Nidisar proved unreluctant to accept the commission, and Fayan was most upset.”
Inala’s eyes seemed disturbed, but that was not unexpected. Ever and again is the spear cast, and at each new cast is one’s lot in life in peril of abrupt reversal. Such was known to Fayan, yet had she acted as circumstances demanded, thinking naught of future consequences. In such a manner must all Midanna conduct themselves, meeting action to circumstance, for easily might they be beside Mida before a consequence might presume to touch them. I offered the skin for Inala’s use, yet she refused it with a shake of her head.
“There is one further matter which is most disturbing,” said she, large dark eyes upon me. “Galiose does not speak of it, yet has his sleep been marked by it. Telion has not left his house since your lashing, and has not replied to Galiose’s order to attend him. He does not refuse the order, he merely ignores it, and Galiose seems loathe to press the matter.”
“Galiose, by his actions, should have been Hosta,” I remarked, and then rose to my feet. Much of my strength was still lacking, but the renth had aided me to attempt that which must be done.
“You now leave Ranistard,” said Inala, gazing up at me from where she sat. There had been no questioning to her tone, for she knew what I must be about.
“There is Mida’s work yet to be done,” said I, looking about. “Should Mida smile upon her warrior, I shall one fey return. ”