“Calmly, Gengan, calmly,” soothed Nobain, his tone smooth and uncaring. “We slew none save followers of the accursed Sigurr, a thing you would know were you in full health. All else is the product of your illness, and you must allow us to aid you.”
“You would aid me to death, as you aided my brothers!” sobbed Gengan, his chest heaving as though with great effort. “You will pay for your evil, Nobain, as surely as I am a Pathfinder for those who follow the true way! I have seen your death upon the Snows, and therefore have I come to challenge you! Arise and face me, Nobain, and face as well the fate you cannot avoid!”
With slaking hands did Gengan drag forth the blade he wore, stumbling backward a few steps to allow the rising of Nobain. He who called himself warrior put aside the skin he held with a sigh, shook his head in helpless surrender, then rose to his feet.
“Gengan, brother, do not force me to harm you,” said Nobain, his weapon drawn with a speed and ease which put the other male to shame. “You are ill, and cannot hope to match me. Put up your blade, and we shall . . .”
No further words were allowed the male as Gengan retook the steps he had given up, immediately swinging his weapon toward the covertly delighted Nobain. The youngest of warriors-to-be would have found avoidance of the stroke a thing of ease, therefore was Nobain able to deflect it smoothly with his own blade. Again and again the red-haired Gengan struck, seeking to reach the other male, yet was he clumsy and totally without skill. For a hand of reckid did Nobain fend him off, finding amusement in the sobbing vexation of the male who stood before him, and then did he tire of the foolishness and thrust his sword into the other male, low and hard to give the greatest pain before death. A small pouch was sheared away from Gengan’s belt at the thrust, incongruously falling to the stone the while Gengan remained erect, eyes wide in disbelief and sword frozen in upraised arm. For two heartbeats did he remain so, and then a scream of torment escaped his lips, a scream filled with raging denial, shocked disbelief, and soul-tearing pain. All save Nobain cringed somewhat at the sound and then it was done, the spirit of Gengan having fled his body. The untenanted body fell to the stone at Nobain’s feet, causing him to quickly free his sword with a wrench, and then did he look at the one who had faced him.
“Farewell, brother,” intoned Nobain, again taken with a sigh. “Had you not been ill your life would not have been so uselessly lost, and yet this may perhaps be for the best. The Serene Oneness undoubtedly ached with the agony you suffered, and now joys in the peace you have found. I am the instrument of the Serene Oneness, therefore do I share his joy even in my grief.”
Those who were of the caves murmured in admiration and agreement, putting sly smiles upon the faces of many of Nobain’s set. Again had Nobain taken the life of an innocent, yet had he made it seem a noble act to keep the wrath of others from him. How low a sednet was this Nobain, more than sufficient to turn the stomach of any who was forced to watch him.
Two of the cavern males rose to see to Gengan’s body, Nobain pausing no longer than to clean his sword before returning to his place and his falar skin. I had used the time of the battle, brief as it was, to make my way to where Ilvin and the Summa sat bound, silently thanking Mida for having seen to it that the three were placed one beside the other. My hair snarled about my arms as I pulled myself across the stone floor to a point just behind them, and impatiently I shook it back while the hum of laughter and conversation arose again among the males.
“Sisters, you are not alone,” I whispered below the sound of the males, striving to keep my voice from all those save Ilvin and the Summa. “I have come to free you, yet have I been able to secure no more than one additional weapon. The strongest of you must stand beside me, guarding my back the while I win further weapons from these males. When all are armed, we may depart this place with none to halt us.”
Not one of the three heads turned to me, none foolish enough to betray my presence to the males, nor did any of the three jump to her feet once my dagger had parted the leather which bound them. I replaced my dagger in its leg bands, paused a brief moment to peer out at the males above Ilvin’s shoulder, then did I jump to my feet and vault between Hitta and Summa, dropping the male’s sword at their feet as I drew mine from my scabbard.
“In the name of Mida, and for the glory of the Hitta and Summa clans!” I shouted, standing wide-legged and ready as I gazed upon the startled, exclaiming males. “Stand with me, sisters, and we shall soon be gone from here!”
Many of the males rose quickly to their feet at my appearance, drawing their weapons and looking about themselves as though expecting others to appear about the cavern. Though I was prepared for immediate attack none launched themselves toward me to engage in battle, therefore did I throw a quick glance back toward the three Midanna to see who would be the one to stand with me. The glance I took became a stare, for none of the three had gained her feet! The light-haired Summa remained leaning upon the stone spire with her back, one arm dragged forward while the other kept its place behind her, the place in which it had been when bound. The other Summa, she of the dark hair, and Ilvin, had both fought themselves free of the spires which had held them, yet was the Summa fallen to her left side and Ilvin sprawled half forward, sweating with the effort. Their limbs moved feebly, mere twitches rather than true movements, their lips opened in attempted speech, the dullness of forced lethargy peering out from their eyes. Clearly they had been fed some Mida-forsaken brew of males, and though they tried with all their strength, they could not stand with me!
“It appears our fair visitor is unaccompanied,” Nobain said. The males stood about in amusement now, no longer alarmed, no longer seeking those who had attacked with me. It was fully plain that I had come alone, a fool of a warrior who had believed that Mida stood with her. No battle is done till the final stroke, yet was I now not far from just such a stroke. I had been allowed my arrogance and blindness, and now would another most certainly be chosen to ride for Mida, for Jalav would soon be no more. I would face the males alone, without my life sign, and would either be cut down or taken captive for later slaying. My fist tightened about my hilt, the cold emptiness growing in my belly matched fully by my earlier resolve; many males would accompany me to the final darkness, for I would not again be taken as slave.
“What more than one warrior is needed to best males?” I asked with sneering challenge, seeking to bring the males to anger and thereafter immediate attack. “I am Jalav, war leader of all the Midanna, and have come to free those warriors of mine you hold captive.”
“We would much prefer that you join them,” the male Nobain replied, his accursed amusement halting those who would have come forward in a rush. We stood four or five paces apart, the males and I, and clearly did all begin to show the look most males took on at sight of Jalav.
“Never have I seen one to match her,” muttered one male of the caverns, stepping up beside Nobain, his point fallen to the ground. “Her pull is greater than that of that wench of yours, Nobain, and I would be the first to claim her.”
“She must first be disarmed before she might be claimed,” returned Nobain, the smooth persuasiveness having returned to his voice. “Do you fancy yourself able to accomplish this without seriously harming her?”
“As easily as you,” replied the cavern male, a faint amusement coming to him at the sudden flash of anger to be seen in the eyes of Nobain. “I know you, brother, and will not be put off by your supposed eagerness to have me make the attempt. The light-haired wench is yours, and with her you must be content. This one will first be mine.”