“The man knows as little of proper way to repay a wench as he knows of facing his enemies squarely,” said he, bending low to Ladayna. “When I return, I will be sure to give you all you have earned.”
His fist went to her hair and his lips took hers, both gestures silencing the words she would have spoken. No more than a moment did he continue so, and then he left her side and rejoined those who awaited him, leading them from the chamber. Ladayna looked after him with considerable indignation, yet a shade of doubt had entered her sharp, light eyes. I remained where I had been, leaning upon the wall to the right of the door, and when all sound of the males’ retreat faded, the female looked to me with a frown.
“Why do you remain when the others have not?” she demanded, raising up again as far as her chains permitted. “And what has happened to your arm? I was told that female slaves in the Caverns are not permitted the use of weapons.”
“Female slaves are not,” said I, leaving the bracing assistance of the wall so that I might move the nearer to her platform. “How well skilled are you with a sword, city slave-woman? Even as I am, it will take a deal of skill to best me. Tell me if the effort necessary to release you will be repaid in battle pleasure.”
“Are you insane?” she cried, attempting to back from me upon the platform. “I know naught of swords save the men who wield them. What is it you intend?”
“I mean to have your life,” I replied with a frown, halting at the foot of her platform. “Did you believe I would return with thanks for having been twice sent to slavery by you? I have come to repay the debt I owe.”
“You cannot!” she choked, wide-eyed with terror. “I am a high lady and the chosen of Sigurr’s Shadow! It is impossible for harm to come to me, I am too beautiful and desirable! No man would ever harm me, so has my father always sworn, and so has it been!”
“I see,” said I, comprehending at last the full foolishness of males. “You have been taught that you are untouchable no matter your actions, for you are greatly desired for use by males. Perhaps it has escaped you that I am no male.”
Her terror-filled gaze then came to take me in, the once-white body cloth I wore, my left arm again beginning to be streaked with blood, the sword held steadily in my right fist, the battle-readiness of my wide-legged stance. With this before her, the female began to tremble, and then came a voice which interrupted my clear intent.
“And yet I am male, and know that one’s true value,” said the voice, causing me to turn quickly toward the still-open door. There the male Pinain stood, he who had taken me to the Caverns, he who had used me first before the others who had accompanied us. He stood with sword naked in his fist and easily smiling visage, no indication of fear touching him.
“She will be worth a good deal where I intend going,” said Pinain, his light eyes filled with amusement. “Wenches such as she are bought by those who have no wenches, to be locked away in seclusion and used only with secrecy and shame for that which they do. They dwell to the south and worship the obscene Oneness, and will give me whatever I ask for her.”
“Pinain, no!” whimpered the female from my right, misery and fear clear in her voice. “Do not take me to that place of abominations, do not sell me to . . . ”
“Silence!” commanded the male, his gaze unmoving from me even while he spoke to the female. “You need have no fear that you will make the journey alone, for I have now decided that this one will accompany you. She, too, will fetch a good price, even should it be necessary for me to spill a bit more of her blood. The others protected her upon the Sands, yet they no longer stand with her.”
The male then took another two steps into the room, facing me more fully before rushing forward with sword raised high. His intent to disarm me quickly was clear, as clear as my response to his rush. My blade avoided his and slashed for his fade, nearly connecting as he threw himself backward and out of reach. As I set myself for another rush I cursed the clumsiness of my limbs, for the slash I had attempted should have had him. I was not as I had been earlier in the fey, and this the male was able to see.
“You throw away my time and your own strength, wench,” said he, eyeing me and flexing his grip upon his sword. “Put that weapon aside and surrender to me now, else shall I forgo your price and end you immediately. Those others will not long bay upon a false trail, and will discover that I hid in that female’s apartments. I intend to be gone before that occurs.”
“You shall indeed be gone,” said I, my voice near to a whisper. “Sooner will I be slain than forgo the vow I made. Stand ready to defend your life, male.”
He knew not what vow I spoke of, yet I recalled clearly my time with him and his males in the cavern sands. I snarled away the weariness and pain which attempted to drag me down, and attacked with no further warning. The male backed no more than a step before defending against my strokes, at first with sureness and lethal intent, after a pair of moments with growing doubt. It was clear to the male that I was close to dropping where I stood; what was unclear was the fact that no more than my blood dropped to the floor cloth. That I would not allow myself to fall was beyond his understanding, as was the source of the strength which swung my blade. An edged bar of silver streaked with dark red continued to seek his vitals, and doubt was rudely pushed aside by fear. The female Ladayna whimpered where she lay, a counterpoint to the clash of metal, ignored by she who attacked and he who sweated in defense.
Despite my resolve and intent, it slowly came to me that I could not long continue as I was. The weight of my sword began to increase, much the same as the weight of my head. Behind my eyes a throbbing increased as well, all acting to make leaden my legs and anchor them to the floor cloth. The wetness of pain covered my face and body, negating even the roughened grip of my weapon, and seeing much of this put instant delight upon the face of Pinain. He disengaged from my blade and then charged forward, driving me back from where I had stood so long intending to spit me. A dark fog had begun to close in on me as I retreated three steps, nearly unsure of what was next to be done, and then was it proven that Mida continued to watch over her warrior. As he rushed forward, Pinain’s leather-shod foot came down in the small pool of blood which had run from my arm and hand, and the male slipped. Had he been barefoot, as was proper, it would not have happened; shod as he was, he slipped so far that his arms flew up, flailing wildly to recapture balance. Without thought I drove forward again, the point of my sword aimed for his belly, and then did my metal plunge through him, tearing a screaming gurgle from his throat. His falling body plucked the sword out of my strengthless fingers, and once I saw that he lay still upon the floor cloth, I turned in the midst of thickening grayness to look upon the female Ladayna.
“Sigurr be praised,” she whispered, her chains clinking as she wiped the wetness of tears from her face with the back of one hand. “Sooner would I be slain by you, than be sold to monsters by another of their kind. Take my life and be welcome to it, sister, for you have saved me from far worse.”
Ladayna lay back upon her platform and closed her eyes, her small fists trembling as they wrapped themselves about a length of silver chain. Her slender body trembled as well, undoubtedly anticipating the touch of sharpened metal. I took one small step toward her, then fell into solid gray fog.
14
A feast—and the concern of males
The skies were gray, as though considering rain, and a sharp breeze had sprung up to cool the heat of the fey; I stood with face up and body alive, drinking in the unmatchable majesty of it all. I felt as though I had been indoors and underground forever, and the sensation of such openness was nigh unto ecstasy.