“Indeed?” said Mehrayn, his brows rising in mock questioning. “You seek to face me now in insult over what was done to you by me, for now you have learned that I am no stranger to the hilt of a sword? You attempt to face me as you faced Chaldrin when he allowed you the challenge, yet do I have a question concerning that bout: in what manner did you learn of Chaldrin’s prowess? Whose valued opinion assured you of his ability to face you?”
“Why, all those within the Caverns were aware of Chaldrin’s ability,” I replied, the words coming slowly from the confusion which remained with me. “I continued to demand the challenge, and at last he agreed to face me.”
“You continued to demand the challenge,” said Mehrayn, the words putting a glint in the green of his gaze. “Am I mistaken in believing that you first gave him challenge upon the moment he initially refused to grant you freedom? How then did you know of his prowess? And for what reason would you accept the opinion of mere ‘males,’ those whose own abilities are so often, in your own words, clumsy and inept? What then of the dishonor in facing one whose abilities are less than yours?”
“A warrior is free to challenge any who attempt her capture!” I snapped, struggling yet further against the strength which held me. “All males show great bravery when Jalav is bound, less when they must face her with weapon in fist!”
“A warrior is free to do many things, it seems,” said Mehrayn, deliberately taking no note of my struggles. “Most especially is a warrior free to begrudge and envy the skill of others, as petulantly as any wench of the cities. Why do you fail to shrill in anger and stamp your foot as well as offer challenge, child warrior? Perhaps then a man would allow his patience to fly, and immediately grant you your challenge.”
“You would accuse a warrior of envying the skill of a male?” I said in derision, scarcely able to credit the foolishness he spoke. “For what reason would one envy another for possessing less than she? You speak as do all males, without reason and without sense, and I have long since grown weary of it. Release me immediately!”
“If there is no sense in what I speak,” said Mehrayn, the anger growing yet again, “for what reason did you not insist upon challenge before you were told of how great a skill I am the possessor of? For what reason was it necessary that you first be told you could not best me before highly incensed insult touched you? For what reason do you do all in your power to force me to face you, rather than merely drawing your weapon and having at me? Is it for the reason that merely slaying me would not allow you to boast that you had bested me? Is it for the very possible reason that the smallness of your soul will not allow another to go unmolested who might well be your superior? Must all those about you bow to your mighty blade or be slain? What if I were to best you instead? What if you were to find defeat rather than victory? What then, wench?”
His voice had risen to deafening shouts, and so great was his anger that the grip he held me in had become true pain. My thoughts whirled in agitation over the words he spoke, for I found myself unable to bear the truth I had been forced to see. Perhaps at first my anger toward him and his doing in the caverns had caused me to be incensed over the thought that he might possess the skill to best me with swords, yet then had come the unacknowledged fancy that all pain and striving would at last come to an end were he able to bury a blade in me. How greatly I longed for such an end I had not known myself, for I had pursued and provoked the male at every opportunity, speaking of insult only so that I need not acknowledge the truth even in my own heart. To attain the blessed peace of the eternal darkness I would have gladly forsaken all those who looked to me for leadership and succor, and so deeply shamed did I feel that I closed my eyes and turned my face from the male who glared furiously upon me. To forsake those who had placed their trust in one is unforgivable, no matter the burdens one carries, no matter the weight and pain of them. So great a coward had Jalav become that naught meant more to her than her own comfort and wishes, and in whatever manner the male took his revenge, the coward Jalav had earned the pain in full measure.
A moment of silence passed as my mind thrashed about in the confines of self-made shame, and then did the grip loosen upon my wrists as Mehrayn shifted about.
“I hear no further protests of innocence, wench,” said he, no longer in a shout though still with anger. “However, I also hear naught in answer to my question. Have you any concept of the loss I would face if I were to slay you?”
“The loss of this one would be minimal at best,” I replied in a whisper, hearing the bitterness in his voice yet understanding naught of it. “I have, however, certain duties which seemed to have slipped from my thoughts, therefore must I withdraw my challenge to you. She who is Jalav is not free to lightly face one who might well best her.”
Again came the silence surrounding the dark of closed lids in which I lay, and again did Mehrayn move about upon his knees. The feel of the stone against them could not have been one of comfort, yet he continued to hold me in place as he had. Then, as though the words fought their way through clouds of confusion, he spoke.
“Sooner would I have thought to hear begging than that which you have just voiced, wench,” said he, his anger momentarily forgotten beneath the weight of puzzlement. “You withdraw the challenge? Just so easily? You will no longer seek to face me?”
“Blindness no longer covers me, and my duty stands clear again in my sight,” said I with a sigh, looking upon him once more. “Should the male Mehrayn think upon the matter and find that his anger demands challenge after all, Jalav will meet him after the strangers have come and been seen to. She will then be free to do as she wishes.”
“Yet till then the matter of challenge must be forgotten,” said Mehrayn in a mutter filled with growing pleasure. “I had not thought to find myself joyed at the prospect of the arrival of those who mean us ill, yet now—” His muttering ended as his gaze returned to me, and a smile turned his lips. “Should the choice be left to me, wench, there shall never be challenge between us, for I shall never face you. I am endlessly pleased that matters between us may now return to that which they were.”
With such words did his head then lower toward mine, his intention clearly to have our lips touch, yet such a thing could not be allowed. I had seen naught to suggest he no longer meant defiance of the gods, and I would continue forever to refuse to be party to such mindlessness. I turned my head quickly so that his lips found my ear rather than that which they had sought, and his head rose again in immediate annoyance.
“Perhaps this time it is I who has forgotten,” said he dryly, “yet does it seem that matters between us were other than this. I cannot recall having often sought your ear to kiss. It is your lips I wish, wench, and I wish them now.”
Again his head lowered toward me, and again I turned my face from him. “Your wishes are of no concern to me, male,” said I to the even greater annoyance in his eyes. “I have said there is naught between us, and have also attempted to prove that. Even a male should have found the doings sufficiently clear for full understanding, therefore may you now release me.”
“May I indeed,” said he, gazing down upon me with a lowering look which showed how completely his previous pleasure had departed. “And for what reason is there now naught between us, when till now there was more than I had ever known was possible?”
“I find I have tired of you,” said I, speaking the lie with discomfort as I moved my wrists in his continuing grip. “A war leader is accustomed to using many males, and the use of no more than one grows quickly tiring. I shall never again find interest in you; therefore may you give over all thoughts of defying the gods. The gesture would be an empty one, even were it possible to find survival and victory.”