He stood with hands upon swordbelt, anger darkening his skin and blazing forth from the green of his eyes. Much would it have pleased me to find a male capable of sense and logic, one who knew and acknowledged the ways of the gods, yet was such an expectation idle. No more than males were they, each like unto the next, of use in no place other than a warrior’s sleeping leather. I shook my head, then did I turn again toward the closed door.
“Mida will see to the safety and provender of her warrior,” said I, putting a final end to the discussion. “I will find my sword and dagger alone.”
Then was it necessary to give full attention to the door before me. To my surprise, the thing was made as no other door I had yet seen. No push plate adorned it, showing it was not meant to swing freely as the doors of the cities, nor was there leather and latch upon it, as was to be found upon the dwellings of Belsayah villages. No more than a rounded leg of metal protruded from the door at a point perhaps mid-high, near to that place where the metal-bound edge of the door met the metal frame it stood within. I nudged the door with my toes, attempting to see how it moved, yet it moved not, even when I nudged it again with greater strength. The thing stood silent and immovable, and a chuckle came from just behind me.
“In order for your Mida to see to your safety and provender upon the trail,” said Mehrayn, “she must first see to the opening of that door. Surely so unimportant a thing will not be allowed to stand in your way.”
“I do not know the method of its opening,” said I through teeth clenched in anger, keeping my gaze from the accursed male. “You, of course, will refuse to speak of it.”
“On the contrary, wench, I consider it my duty to assist you,” said he, considerable amusement to be heard in the words. “One need only grasp the metal latch, push it down, then turn it in a full circle and pull to the right. The door will then open easily with no more than the slightest pull.”
I continued to keep my gaze upon the dark, aged wood of the door, silently calling down the curse of Mida upon the heads of all males who would devise such things as that door. In order to perform the doing one must be able to grasp the leg of metal, a thing I was then unable to accomplish. Indeed did I attempt to close one hand about the cloth covering it, only to nearly moan at the flash of returning agony. A fury rose up in me that I might be closed in so effortlessly, causing me to attempt the leg of metal with my arms; the Mida-forsaken leg sprang back to its resting place the moment I attempted beginning the circle, no matter that I made the attempt over and over again. A growl rose to my throat with the last of it, to accompany the sweat of frustration and effort which covered me, and then did a big hand come to my shoulder.
“That mechanism is designed to keep without all those unfamiliar with it,” said Mehrayn, in a soothing tone. “Also shall it keep within one who is as yet unfit to take to the trail. Return to the fur, wench, and allow your strength to find you again.”
“I shall not!” I ground out, jerking my head about to glare up at him. “I shall go my way as I am meant to do! In Mida’s name do I demand that this accursed door be opened!”
“Now do I know for certain that the wounds have affected you,” said he, his brows low with disapproval as he withdrew his hand. “Though we have often shared words of disagreement, never before have you sounded the willful, demanding child. You go nowhere save to your furs, wench, and the door shall remain as it is.”
With such words did he bend and lift me in his arms, and then return me to the fur I had left. Much did I shout and kick and attempt to struggle, yet all to no avail. Despite the closeness of the room a covering fur was placed upon me, and when I attempted to rid myself of it agony flared in my hands. I moaned as the searing pain intensified, then moaned again when Mehrayn’s hand touched my brow; so cool was that hand that I shivered to my soul, unable to fend off the feeling. The torchlight danced and shuddered in the dimness, partially illuminating the odd look which had taken Mehrayn, much as though deep concern held him close. Long reckid passed in my attempt to escape, and longer hind, yet was Mehrayn inescapable. I fought and struggled though all strength was lost to me, and then, at the end of strength, came the darkness.
3
A gift is returned—and a journey begun
All was silent when I awoke, yet did it seem as though the air carried memory of the presence of many males—and warriors as well. At first I recalled naught of what had occurred; I knew only I was hungry and my body felt slick and unclean, my hair hanging again in greasy strands, yet was there a strength and well-being within me which squared my shoulders and allowed me to hold my head high. I sat upon a fur in a room of stone, a half-spent torch casting enough light to look about in, a large, metal-bound wooden door shutting off sight of what lay beyond. A sudden aroma came to me which caused me to twist toward a wooden board where stood an array of the provender which I had such a great need of. Nilno and paslat and fellin tubers there were, dark baked grain and a large metal goblet from which the aroma of falar came; though it seemed to have stood there some short time I reached for the first of it with pleasure, and at sight of the cloth wrapped about my hand, memory returned of what had gone before.
For a single brief moment I sat unmoving, and then did I look down between my breasts to see that which I already knew was there. My life sign, the crystal hadat with roiling black within, hung upon its leather as though it had ever been upon me, as though it had not been taken in anger by Mida. Slowly, though there was no longer a reason for caution, I took the wrapped cloth from first my right hand and then my left, seeing the faint lines of healing where so recently had been gaping wounds, feeling naught save strength and steadiness in my grip. The sole cause of unsteadiness I felt stemmed from the vast clouds of confusion surrounding me, for never had I thought to see my life sign again. Had Mida relented in her anger and therefore returned the life sign as she had taken it? Had she felt approval for my actions, rather than condemnation as I had at first believed? Was the pain I had been given no more than that which a warrior might expect at the hands of males, rather than the punishment I had thought it to be? I knew not what the goddess was about, yet did I know that I had again been healed; clearly, in future, it would be necessary to recall that the final stroke of a battle was not necessarily that which was clear to the eye.
The provender which awaited me was also unexplained, yet was I able to feed upon it without such explanation. Much of it had gone comfortably down my throat to fill the hollow within, the falar slowly and smoothly following, when the great door opened to admit Mehrayn. He halted briefly, his eyes touched me, with a look of satisfaction, and then he closed the door and approached the place where I sat.
“Though the doing of it was this time longer, you are again healed,” said he, halting before the fur so that he might bend and seat himself upon it. “And you have eaten the food left for you.”
“Indeed,” said I, sipping at the falar as I considered the strangeness which held the male. Much did it seem as though he hid annoyance, yet for what reason I knew not. “You are already aware, then, of the return of my life sign, therefore was it you who provided provender. I had wondered upon the reason for its presence.”