As we approached a group, I recognized the denday as one I had drawn a few conclusions about. I plucked at Tammad’s swordbelt, gesturing him close when he turned.
“This one needs to be bested at something,” I whispered low. “Does that help you?”
He nodded slowly, considering what I’d said, then continued on toward the pavilion. The denday stood with his men watching as two of the l’lendaa sweated and grunted, seemingly not noticing us. We stood silently too, waiting until one of the men had caused the other to concede, then Tammad turned to the other denday.
“Aldana, Miggan,” he said pleasantly “Your men seem as fit as ever.”
“And ever shall they be,” Miggan answered neutrally “I believe in nothing else. How fares your city, Tammad?”
“Well,” Tammad answered. “Our caravans are beset by the savages, yet still we prosper. Have you also been attacked?”
“Aye,” Miggan said, and spat disgustedly to one side. “We shall soon have the savages in our camtahh, should we continue to fight them singly. We must band together and force them to return from whence they came.”
“I, too, believe so.” Tammad nodded. “This Ratanan must see it done.” He glanced toward the cleared space, where another two men struggled, and grinned. “There is fine sport to be had for those who wish to take it, yet it is unfitting for a denday to sport with his l’lendaa. A pity for I feel the need for such sport.”
“Often, I, too, feel such need,” Miggan said in the same casual tone while his attention focused on Tammad. “As we are both dendayy, let us see to our mutual need.”
“An excellent thought,” Tammad answered, as though the idea had never occurred to him. After this match, we shall take our turn.”
Miggan nodded, and they both turned back to watch the wrestling. I ignored the wrestling and watched the two dendayy, hoping that I’d guessed right. Miggan had been difficult to read until his control had slipped with the intake of drishnak, then his superior intolerance had been easy to feel. He had sat alone in the pavilion through his own choice, but not through feelings of unfriendliness. Often a man has difficulty socializing with people he considers his inferiors.
The match ended with a final crash, allowing Tammad and Miggan to step forward before anyone else could do so. They removed their swordbelts to the yells of encouragement from the l’lendaa, then began measuring each other with their eyes. Neither man felt any doubt, and I wished I could say the same.
They started circling warily, arms out and away from their bodies, bodies bent slightly down and forward. They were both in magnificent condition, strong, healthy brutes bred for battle. Tammad was somewhat the taller, but Miggan made up for the negligible difference with slightly more weight. Their blue eyes were locked on each other, their blond hair stirring not at all in the gentle breeze.
Then suddenly Miggan moved. The mighty Tammad was raised high in the air to be slammed down hard on the ground, but he rolled and was up again immediately to return to circling with a grin. The pain of landing was not allowed to enter his conscious mind, and seconds later it was Miggan’s turn to be raised and dropped, but Miggan, too quickly regained his feet. His control was not as good as Tammad’s, and the pain was felt, but it was totally ignored.
A larger and larger crowd was gathering, and I was only able to keep my place because Tammad’s three l’lendaa saw to it that no one stood in front of us; and it was a good thing they did—behind the giant l’lendaa, I would have missed it all.
The crowd cheered and laughed each time one of the dendayy was thrown or locked in a hold, and they cheered and laughed often. Tammad and Miggan were well matched and both knew what they were about, but Tammad’s greater control and agility slowly pulled him ahead. Finally, Miggan was taken by the neck and tripped, but when be tried to get to his feet again, he found a knee in his back and his arm twisted in a vise. He tried futilely to escape the hold, then gave in to his over-powering weariness.
“I yield,” he gasped out, almost shocked at the words that came from him. Tammad released him immediately and they both stood, breathing hard, to face one another. Miggan stared briefly then said, “Never had I expected to say those words, Tammad. You are safeety l’lenda.”
“I, too, have rarely faced such an opponent.” Tammad smiled, ignoring the fact that he had been called a superior warrior. “You do me honor by sharing my sport, Miggan. Perhaps we may fight side by side against the savages.”
“I would find much pleasure in such an undertaking,” Miggan said, nodding slowly “Aye, much pleasure. Will you share drishnak with me, Tammad?”
“Gladly.” Tammad grinned as he reclaimed his swordbelt. He put his extra dagger behind him again, and Miggan eyed the dagger in the sheath.
“A lovely weapon, that,” he said, nodding at the dagger. “May I see it?”
“Certainly” Tammad answered, handing over the dagger. “It was a house-gift from a close friend, chosen carefully from among many others. I prize it highly.”
“So should I,” Miggan said, handing the dagger back reluctantly. He collected his own swordbelt, then led the way to his pavilion. Tammad followed, but not before gesturing to me. I went along, and once inside saw that the pavilion was divided in half by a drapery no sleeping furs being in view. I realized why when a woman came out from behind the drapery. She was five-banded and smiling pleasantly and her eyes lingered briefly on my imad and caldin.
“Ah, Padir” Miggan smiled. “Do you fetch the drishnak for the denday Tammad and me. We drink to victory and defeat.”
Padir nodded and left the pavilion, and Miggan’s glanced slyly at me.
“My wenda is called Terril,” Tammad supplied, noticing the other man’s slight frown. “Does her presence disturb you?”
“No,” Miggan answered, studying me carefully “She is truly sarella wenda, yet do I feel that to merely show a woman demeans her. I intend no insult, Tammad. I merely speak my mind.”
“No insult is taken, Miggan,” Tammad answered easily. “I feel as you do, though there is no dishonor in also showing a woman who is to be used. My wenda is rella wenda only for the Ratanan.”
Miggan thought about that for a minute, then began to laugh heartily. “I see that Rommar has been bested even more than he knows,” he guffawed. “His rella wenda has been outdone by a wenda who is intended to bear children! She shall give you daughters to steal your sleep, Tammad. I know whereof I speak.”
“Aye, sons are much the easier to raise.” Tammad laughed, eyeing me in a very proprietary fashion, which made me feel extremely uncomfortable. I knew he couldn’t give me children, but he sounded so sure ....
“Here is the drishnak,” Miggan announced as Padir came back in with a skin. He was feeling very brotherly toward Tammad, and that’s what we’d been trying for. As soon as I confirmed that, I ignored the two drinkers for my own thoughts.
Since there was a lot of territory to cover, we didn’t spend too much time with Miggan. I heard nothing of Tammad’s excuse for leaving, but it must have been a good one; when he tugged gently on my hair to get my attention, Miggan was still feeling brotherly Miggan grinned fondly at me, too, which annoyed me, but he never noticed the annoyance. He just walked us to the pavilion entrance and lifted a hand in farewell.
The next denday we came to didn’t have to be fought with or drunk with. I told Tammad to ask any question and thereafter just listen, and when we walked away the denday was feeling as brotherly as Miggan had felt. The man was bigger than Tammad and tended to speak a good deal more slowly than he used a sword, and most l’lendaa had no patience for listening to him. When Tammad listened, not only with patience but with interest, the gigantic denday was pleased out of all proportion to the effort. He didn’t fail to compliment me, but I was glad to be away from him. He remembered me from the night before, and still felt what he had felt then—which was definitely not brotherly.