“Why do you thus look upon me?” I asked of Nidisar, my left hand comfortably upon my sword hilt. “Did you think I would know the name?”
“Does the name cause you to feel naught, girl?” Nidisar demanded with a snort of amusement. “Do you not realize that all females within these walls be slave?”
“I do not take your meaning,” I said. “Are not all city females slaves? Wherein lies the difference?”
“I believe he thinks us sisters to one such as she!” Fayan exclaimed, then threw her head back and laughed heartily. My other warriors laughed as well, and I, too, was amused, for the confusion upon the faces of Nidisar and the other males was comical indeed. At last I understood that I was to feel much upset, caused by the presence of a female who had been named slave. It was clear that these males knew nothing of the ways of Midanna.
The slavewoman had not raised her eyes, yet there was a light red color to her cheeks, as though mention of her state gave her discomfort. Had I not known that those of the cities had no souls, I would have told her that it needed but the opened throat of he who owned her to make her free. However, I spoke not such words, for one without a soul lacks also the stomach with which to accept them.
“You may now fetch the renth,” said Nidisar to the slavewoman, a bit of annoyance in his tone. The slavewoman rose quickly to her feet and sped away, and Nidisar moved more closely to me. “I would have the truth, Jalav,” said he, taking my hand between both of his so that he might toy with it. “How can you think yourself different from that slave? Are you not both female?”
“Certainly,” I agreed, pleased at the feel of his shoulder against mine. “We are both female, and all males are male, but is there no difference between males as well? Some are scrawny and small, all life and heart gone out of them, and some are tall and strong, fit for a warrior to look upon. Why, then, would you think me the same as that slave? Do you believe she would cast a spear as well as I have done?”
“No.” He smiled, and touched my cheek. “Yet would I be pleased to see you and those others clad as the slave was, kneeling at my feet. In that, I can see no difference between females, save that some would make more pleasing slaves than others.”
“Little pleasure would you receive from Jalav as slave.” I laughed, amused by his innocence. “You would live in fear of closing your eyes in sleep, lest Jalav find her way free and to your sleeping form. Think you your life would not then be forfeit?”
He sighed. “In truth, I know it would be,” he murmured, “yet perhaps, for a certain female, a man might feel the price a not unreasonable one. It is something to be thought upon.”
His words, too, were something to be thought upon, yet was I unable to find meaning within them, for quickly was the renth brought. Three slavewomen, clad as was the first, carried to each of us a small, round platform, upon each of which was placed by a fourth slave, a tall, oddly shaped pot. I took the odd pot from the platform beside me, and tasted of the contents within, finding it a near match to unbrewed daru. Thinner was it than daru, and sweeter, yet it was not unwelcome after so long a time with nothing to drink but water.
When I lowered the pot, again I found Nidisar’s eyes upon me. “What think you of the renth?” asked he with a smile.
“It is adequate,” I allowed, and finished what there was in the pot. “It would sit best, however, beside a portion of nilno. A pity there is none to be had.”
“Of course there is nilno.” He laughed and emptied his own pot. “I should have thought to offer it sooner. I shall have some as well, and we may have our flagons refilled while we await it.”
He again called the slave to him, ordered the pots refilled, then requested six portions of nilno. The slave hurried off to see to the nilno, and we had again drained our pots by her return.
When we had finished with the good-sized portions of nilno, much renth had also been finished. The males with whom we sat had moved themselves about, so that some of them were beside and about each of my warriors. My warriors were pleased to have full stomachs and a pot of neardaru, and laughed lightly with the males, thinking, I was sure, about which of them they would take. The large, red-haired hunter who had spoken earlier sat beside Fayan, his eyes hungrily taking her in. She, too, seemed pleased with his form, and I felt he would not find her dagger at his throat, should he put his hands upon her. Nidisar still sat beside me, matching me pot for pot of the renth, yet he was quieter than he had been, and his eyes strayed often from me to rest upon Fayan. He, however, would have had little chance with her, for she disliked him; and had not looked upon him even once.
Who first spoke of it, I knew not, yet suddenly, amid much laughter, were my warriors and I challenged to a game of throwing daggers. Comir stepped up first, although she was very young and not well used to the taste of daru and the like. She peered unsteadily at the board upon the wall, brought her arm back slowly for the throw, and dropped the dagger behind her without knowing it. We all of us roared with laughter as she scratched her head and searched about her for where the dagger might. have flown. Solicitously a hunter retrieved the dagger for her, and she took it with a smile, then fell forward against him, taken herself by the renth. The hunter laughed and lifted her in his arms, then carried her away from the rest of us. No move did I make to stop him, for the lesson would be a useful one for Comir. When she awakened with the new light, her head ringing with the remains of renth, her body having been used by a male without her consent, she would thereafter take heed of what she drank, and would not soon again place herself in so foolish and vulnerable a position.
Binat was next, and her throw was straight and true to the center of the board. The hunter who took her place had had a bit too much of the renth, which caused his dagger to strike the wall rather than the board, and again all laughed.
I awaited my turn, expecting Fayan to throw next, yet when I looked about, she was nowhere to be seen. The tall, red-haired hunter with whom she had been now stood beside Binat, and I surmised with a shrug that she had found another who interested her more. I threw my dagger the short distance to the center of the board, then was unexpectedly touched upon the shoulder. I turned and saw standing there the male who had been at the gate upon our arrival and who had spoken of seeking me later.
“An excellent throw,” he said, a smile upon his lips. Dark of hair and eye was he, strong of face, and unashamed of the hair he wore bound in leather.
“At such a distance, how might one miss?” I asked, returning his smile. “Also, the board does not attempt to evade the throw.”
“Quite true.” He laughed, and his hand moved to caress my back. “Might I offer you a flagon of renth? I am Pileth, Captain of the Guard of the High Seat.”
“I am Jalav,” I said, “and I would be pleased to accept renth.”
Pileth grinned and walked with me to where my small, round platform sat. Six other males of the Guard had he brought with him, and these males placed themselves at a distance from our position. It was then that I noted the absence of Nidisar, and felt much relieved. This Pileth held considerable attraction for me, and had Nidisar remained, I would have had the difficulty of the hunter’s bewailing his rejection.
A pot was brought Pileth, and he and I shared renth with few words. Once, when a slavewoman came to renew the renth, a male not far distant from us put his hand upon the slavewoman, causing her to gasp and spill the renth upon my arm. Pileth became angered, and the slavewoman fell to the floor in terrible fear and trembling, as though the fault had been hers. Annoyed by the interruption, I rose to my feet and carried my pot of renth to the male who had touched the slavewoman, and emptied the pot upon his head. He rose up sputtering, in great anger, but the sight of my own anger and my hand upon sword hilt stayed his words and actions. He returned silently to his place upon the cloth, and I returned to Pileth, who laughed softly where he lay. The slavewoman quickly replaced my spilled renth with a small smile, then took herself off, and Pileth insisted upon removing the renth from my arm with his tongue. The action heated my blood above the level it had already attained, yet when I reached for him, he stayed my hand and rose to his feet, urging me up with him.