“You sound as though we had already faced one another and you had fallen,” said Mehrayn, returning to stand before Chaldrin and look upon him with the puzzlement he continued to feel. “From what I, myself, have seen of your skill, a set-to between us would be no preordained victory for Sigurr’s sword. For what reason do you speak as you do?”
“I speak as I do for the reason that I have learned to know men and what moves them,” said Chaldrin, in no manner avoiding Mehrayn’s eye. “A man who is barely your equal will fight you with the ability of a fiend from the depths, should he be given the proper motivation. I have seen your eyes when you looked upon the wench—and could in no manner envision myself doing as she insists and still retain life in my body. Should matters continue on as they are, she will surely have her way, for I am but a man. To put off the inevitable is foolish; would you have us face one another now?”
Mehrayn sighed. “I believe I now understand her reference to ‘others,’ ” said he, both vexation and annoyance clear in his tone. “I see she does indeed seek to force me into facing her, yet would I sooner have that bottom within reach of my hand again. You will, of course, refuse her should she come to you.”
“Refuse her?” said Chaldrin with the faintest of smiles, the while I bristled with anger where I stood. “Have I not said I am no more than a man? The taste of her fills even my waking dreams, the sight of her bringing desire like none I have ever felt. Should she come to me and press those large-pointed breasts into my flesh, touch my lips with the softness of hers, put her hand to me—Would you find yourself able to refuse her?”
“Much does it sound as though you have already had her use,” said Mehrayn in so soft a voice that all amusement left Chaldrin, his smile fading beneath the green of the stare which held him. “This is foolishness, I know, for the wench is mine, yet does it seem that the taste of her is familiar to you. You will, of course, assure me that I am mistaken.
“In the Caverns, no wench belongs to a single man, nor are her origins made known to us,” replied Chaldrin in a voice steady enough, yet did it seem that he looked upon his own death. “To refuse to take use from a wench such as that would have been lunacy, and none of us suffered from lunacy of that sort. As you wish the truth you shall have it: I would not have kept from her even had I know her to be Sigurr’s, not to speak of yours. And quite confidently does the wench assure me that you will have no objection to her taking another man in your presence. Even when she was a captive, said she, her use was free to all who wished it, and no man has ever sought to keep her his alone. Now that she is again free, she insists, surely none will seek to limit her use of what ‘males’ she finds about her. Mehrayn is aware of the rights of a war leader, said she, and will not seek to limit her prerogative. Her belief in this is firm, and should it be necessary to speak words of disagreement, the chore must fall to Sigurr’s Sword. I am more than weary of being laughed at.”
“Laughed at,” muttered Mehrayn, his left hand repeatedly freeing his sword a hand-span and then thrusting it back within its scabbard again. “No man has ever sought to keep her as his alone. The prerogatives of a war leader!” Then were his eyes blazing. “What am I to do?” he demanded, as though the other male held knowledge which he refused to share. “in Sigurr’s name, tell me what I am to do! In all my kalod of life, in all my kalod as Sigurr’s Sword, never have I felt so helpless! She will listen to no word I speak, for she has been taught that men speak ‘foolishness’ and lies, and is able to find trust in none of us through what has been done to her! And above that, she rides in the service of the gods! Any man who attempts to distract her pits himself against the gods! Willingly would I stand with sword in hand against any being who ever lived, yet how am I to challenge the gods for her? Every man who has attempted to do so has been thrown aside by them, as so much refuse! Tell me what I am to do!”
“Brother, I cannot,” said Chaldrin in a voice filled with pity, his hand going to the shoulder of Mehrayn, who now stood with head down, as though in defeat. “My lot is simple in that I merely need follow her and stand with her, even should my life be forfeit. Had I the need to stand between her and her goals so that I might be seen and taken note of—fear of the wrath of the gods would surely drive me shuddering to my knees, not to speak of having to interrupt the wench’s single-mindedness relating to her devotion to duty. Those who attempt to stand before her in the path she was set upon by the gods must face that blade of hers—and the skill which few have ever attained. Should you need the assurance of one who was foolish enough to face that blade, I give you my word that she will never fall without taking her due. Glibly did I tell her that you would easily best her were you to face one another, and perhaps this would be so. In full truth do I say to you that you would not go unscathed even were you to triumph over her, for she fights as none I have ever faced.”
“I have no wish to face her,” said Mehrayn, his head slowly rising from its position of defeat. “As Sigurr is my witness, I shall never face her. My sole desire is to hold her forever in my arms, and this I shall do though every god who ever was stands in denial. I know not how I shall accomplish this, yet I shall. In this, above all other things, I shall not be bested. And you, my friend, had best watch your step.”
Briskly did he clap Chaldrin upon the shoulder and then take himself off, a determination about him so strong that both Chaldrin and I could do no more than stare silently after him. Some time had it been since confusion had swirled so thickly about me, yet had it not lost its ability to set my head to spinning. What the words of the male meant I had no true idea, yet did one small part of it disturb me considerably. As I had already put away the small sack in among my belongings, I left the side of my kan to walk to Chaldrin where he still stood gazing after Mehrayn.
“What does he mean to do?” I asked, drawing Chaldrin’s immediate attention. “Of what does he speak, and what does he mean to do?”
“You heard?” asked Chaldrin, looking down at me. “Should you have heard all which passed between us, you must know as well as I that he means to make you his alone. I have seen you beside him, wench, when indignation did not ride you as a warrior upon a kan. You cannot mean to deny him.”
So quietly did Chaldrin speak, with calm acceptance in both tone and eyes, his gaze firmly upon me, his fingers resting upon his swordbelt. Broad and strong and calm was Chaldrin as he stood in his white body cloth looking down upon me, yet was he no more than a child speaking upon matters he had no true understanding of.
“I have no need to deny him,” said I, feeling quick anger at such colossal foolishness. “It shall be Mida who denies him, as she has denied others, this time, perhaps, with Sigurr’s assistance. And not again shall I barter my soul to reclaim the life of one who stands against the will of the gods. Not again.”
I turned and strode quickly away from Chaldrin, aware of his wish to speak further upon the matter, yet unwilling to be drawn more deeply into useless male foolishness. A few steps into the forest and our halting place was gone from easy sight, yet did I continue on till I was well away, beyond sound of the others as well as sight of them. The lowering heat of the fey was again oppressive, taking the cool so recently given my body and turning it to small rills of sweat, save for where my still-wet hair touched me. My left palm rubbed fretfully against the hilt of my sword as I strode back and forth before a large, old tree, seeking to calm the mountainous turmoil which threatened to whirl me away forever from the sight of all.
The vanity of males! He who was pleased to call himself the Prince of Sigurr’s Sword had come firmly and strongly to the decision that Jalav was to be his, therefore was Jalav not to deny him! Such a decision had Ceralt made, and nearly had Ceralt lost his life for the doing! Was I to again stand between a male and his fate, accepting agony and terror beyond description so that he might be saved from that which he had so willingly and casually set himself to?