He looked deeply into my eyes for a moment before taking my lips with strength, and surely did a trembling begin within me at his words. I had seen no indication of a lash in his possession, yet did it seem that he promised me no other thing. I knew of no other manner in which I might be kept from doing as I must, and although I struggled again to free myself from his hand upon my wrists and his fist in my hair, a numbness had entered me which quickly took my strength. I had not thought Mehrayn would do me so, yet was there ever the possibility that he did indeed move to the will of the gods. Withdrawing from his lips proved an impossibility, he held me so tightly, and then was his demand done.
“I had not thought you would be so anxious to begin,” said he, a dryness to his tone. “Though you greet the doings of the gods with full unconcern, I had forgotten you seek always to do men the same. Perhaps you will now be taught better.”
With such words did Mehrayn then put his free arm about me, and quickly was I turned so that I now lay upon him, belly down upon his thighs. My wrists continued to be held by his hand, and an instant later was my hair thrown forward so that it fell all about my face and head. Again I struggled, confused as to where his lash might be, and then was I touched in another manner, which banished all thoughts of a lash and brought great indignation to me. The open hand of the male had struck my bottom, bringing me humiliation rather than agony, and as he continued to strike me in the same manner, I knew that agony would have been much the easier to bear.
“Mida take you, you may not do me so!” I snarled after a long moment, throwing my head about in an attempt to free my vision of naught save thick black locks, also uselessly attempting to free my wrists. “I am a war leader of Midanna, and may not be done so!”
“You should have been done in this manner kalod ago,” said the accursed male, continuing to strike me with the flat of his hand. “It would surely have taught you moderation in your doings, and would as surely have kept you from greater hurt. Perhaps it would be well if I gave my word to see you done in this manner each time you attempt defiance and disobedience, most especially with the gods. This punishment is most suitable for disobedient girl children, even should it please them to call themselves elsewise. You have been a naughty girl child, Jalav, and now do you pay the price.”
I snarled again in wordless rage, twisting about with all of my strength, yet helpless against the strength of this male.
The male who held me now gained his will, for the accursed strength of his arm allowed him to continue striking me for an endless time, far longer than I was able to bear without truly feeling the thing. I had given him no sound which might be taken for weakness, yet was I shaken nearly as much as I was enraged. Once had Ceralt done me nearly the same, he having pursued me about a tent to strike so rather than holding me as Mehrayn did, and I had then been certain that the punishment was Mida-sent, for the goddess to allow a male to do me so. When Mehrayn released me the thought came again, for surely I knew I could not sit a kan. In truth I thought it possible that walking was beyond me, and so deep was the humiliation I felt that I knelt where Mehryan had put me, my head to the lenga fur, my eyes closed tight, my fists holding my hair to my face so that I might not be seen in my shame. Tears of rage had long since stained my cheeks, yet was such a rage useless, for without a weapon I could not regain my own from the male. And should the punishment indeed have been Mida-sent, even a weapon to hand would avail me naught. I knelt so in silence for a few short reckid, attempting to quiet the shudder breathing put upon me, and a sigh came from the male who had caused it all.
“The pain of a punishment should not be for he who gives is as for she who receives it,” said Mehrayn, naught of the satisfaction he surely felt evident in his voice. “Had I not felt this doing necessary to your well-being, Sigurr would surely have taken me before I was able to find the fill to strike you. I know that once again I am no other thing than a ‘male’ to you, yet do I accept the designation gladly, for I also know that your safety this darkness is assured. A man who is willing to give his life for a wench, must also be willing to forgo her approval of his actions where her safety is concerned. You may lie upon the lenga pelt without concern, wench, for I shall bring you no further hurt this darkness.”
His hands came to me then and removed the mass of hair from before me, ignoring the manner in which I attempted to thrust him away. The shame I felt was greater than the ache he had given me, yet was it necessary that I force my eyes open in order that I might see what I was about. Much had I expected a look of ridicule and derision upon the broad face of the male, a look which would surely have increased my shame, however, sight brought me no such hateful gloating. Filled with hurt were the green eyes of the male, seemingly a hurt for that which he had done. He showed regret, yet was there hurt to match the hurt he had given me. His hand came to brush at the freely falling tears upon my cheek, and then were his arms about me, holding me tightly to his chest. I had no true desire to be held by him for the useless fury continued to fill me, yet was I unable to push away from the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms, as unable to deny him as I had been unable to deny Ceralt. Instead did I cling tightly to him, feeling his lips upon my hair, and thrust away instead all thoughts concerning the punishment of the gods.
In a short while had sleep come to me, and so had I passed the darkness, held tight in the arms of the male who had dared give me the punishment of a child. In some manner were the whippings given me by Chaldrin more easily forgiven and forgotten, and I paced about the glade with fury burning through me, knowing not where the fury should fall—
Knowing not where the fury should fall? The thought brought me to an abrupt halt, a churning in my middle underscoring the sacrilege of the thing. To feel fury toward males was a usual doing, much to be expected when a warrior moved among them, yet the other—
Many times since my choosing had I been given trials and punishment by Mida, shamings and pain and humiliation which I had not questioned when once it became clear that the goddess had indeed sent them. I had at first thought Mehrayn’s doing to be his alone, despite the manner in which he had spoken, and then had come the thought that Ilida moved the male as she had once moved Ceralt. I had been forced to remain in the darkness by the doing of Mehrayn, continuing to feel a remembrance of the weight of his hand even to the new light—and then had I spoken with the Summa and stumbled upon that which brought the Clouds of Seeing. Had I left during the darkness, the Summa might well have been in their sleeping leather, the pouch bypassed in the taking of a different path through the cavern.
I raised my right leg to the stump of along dead tree, gazing balefully upon my life sign where it lay wound about the hilt of my dagger. Though I rode in Mida’s name and would continue to do so, it came to me at last that I was no longer willing to accept in silence the trials she sent.
The light, pretty glade was well paced out by the arrival of Chaldrin and the two Summa. I swung the thin branch I had broken from a tree, as if it were a sword, bringing imaginary death and destruction to the golden light about me, using the exertion as an aid to lightening my mood.
“Ho, Jalav, provender is at hand,” called Dotil as she and Wedin and Chaldrin rode their kand to where mine stood. “A large young paslat happened across me, and though the battle was fierce I was at last able to prevail. There will be much of a victory celebration, and I would be honored by your attendance. ”