After a number of reckid I halted beside the rough stone wall of the cavern, my thoughts all ajumble, the illness continuing strong within me. I knew not where I might run to escape what would surely be, where I might hide so that word of which of them had fallen might not be brought me. I lifted a trembling hand to brush away the hair which blocked my vision, then raised my head to look about to see in which direction I would next take myself. There were some few warriors about in that part of the cavern, most sitting in sets and speaking softly as they took their rest, and then my gaze fell upon one who of a sudden seemed sent by Mida herself. Galiose sat among the warriors yet was not a part of them, for he who was High Seat of Ranistard sat alone, gazing down to the stone of the cavern floor. Rest had been promised me by the spirit of Chaldrin, and surely had I now earned such a rest; Mida, in her infinite kindness, had provided the means to that rest, and I sent her my heartfelt thanks as I left the wall I had halted beside, and walked slowly toward Galiose. To be the chosen of Mida was not half so fine as to be her beloved daughter, one to whom she gives the aid of her love.
“Galiose,” said I when I stood before him, looking down to where he sat. “Galiose, all battle has ended, and we now stand victorious. My warriors no longer have battle thoughts to occupy them, therefore is it necessary that I find other thoughts for them—or other battle.”
The male had slowly raised his head to look upward toward me, and unreadable were the shadows darkening his eyes. A faint frown took him at my words, and he shook his head with something like annoyance.
“Should there be a thing you seek to tell me, girl, best would be you speak more plainly,” said he, his tone attempting to dismiss my presence. “The battle was long, and now I wish to rest for a while without disturbance.”
“Indeed is Galiose wise to rest himself,” said I, insolently putting hands to swordbelt as I looked down upon him. “Such rest will stand him in good stead when my warriors and I have reached his city. I have decided that the very existence of Ranistard is offensive to me, and shall see to the offense as I have seen to all others I have come upon: I shall trample it into the ground till it is no longer offensive to any upon this world.”
“You cannot mean such words,” he said, paling, and then was he rising to his feet to look down at me with great hurt and disbelief. “There are innocents in my city, men and women and children who would be homeless even were they to survive! You cannot mean to attack!”
“For what reason should I not?” I asked, bringing a faint smile to my face. “What are your city folk to me? In what manner did they come to my aid when I required aid? In what manner did they seek to aid my Hosta? They shall be given the consideration given me and mine, no less—and no more.”
“I see,” he said with a nod, looking down at me with bitterness. “You continue to hold me culpable for that lashing. What is it you truly wish, girl? Do you seek my life in trade for the lives of those of my city? Should that be so, take it and be damned!”
“I have no interest in trading with you, male,” I said to the growing fury in his eyes, holding the smile which brought him such anger. “To merely take a life is not to win it, and Midanna have no liking for such city-male doings. Should Galiose wish to aid his city he must face me, and more than that must he stand victorious. Should Galiose triumph, his city shall survive; should Jalav triumph, Ranistard will be no more. Your death will mean the death of your city as well, male, therefore may you banish all thoughts of freeing them from their fate with your lifeblood. Only by besting me shall you find lasting safety for them, and none yet have ever bested this warrior.”
“Till now,” said he with a growl, straightening where he stood, his eyes filled with determination. “I have no doubt you mean what you say, therefore shall I steel myself to the unpleasant task of butchering a female. To preserve the lives of many the life of one must be taken, and although I shall grieve when it is done, the grief of one is far more acceptable than the grief of many. Where shall our meeting be, and when?”
“Here,” said I, drawing the sword I had not cleaned the blood from, the sword I had sheathed without thought when I fled the chamber which had been the Feridani female’s. “And now. Such long awaited pleasure should not be delayed by even one added hand of reckid.”
“Pleasure,” echoed the male with full disgust, also drawing his weapon. “Perhaps this is best after all, for one who considers killing pleasurable will find no place for herself in the new world which the strangers will aid us in building. Far better you find an ending now, and be spared the pain of knowing yourself a misfit outcast. You have my deep regrets, wench. ”
And then did the male have at me, swinging his sword with strength and more than a modicum of skill. For one of the cities he was adequate indeed, yet even as I kept his point and edge from me, I knew him as less than myself. Had I truly wished his life I would have had it, and the great startlement he showed told me he knew it as well. No more than a dozen strokes had we exchanged before the truth came to the male and myself, yet are such things quickly known. I immediately feared that the realization would daunt the male, causing him to turn and flee from our encounter, yet was Galiose made from other than that of the Feridani. Rather than run, the male increased his efforts to down me, an act which pleased me greatly and brought me respect for the male who was High Seat of Ranistard. That respect came late was better than not at all, most especially with so little time left.
More and more frantic grew the efforts of the male, he barely able to keep my gently questing point from his flesh, and then came the moment I had awaited, the moment of his greatest effort. So swift were the movements of the male that halting himself was no longer possible, and then did I drop my guard and stand unprotected, welcoming the thrust of his blade. Oddly slow was the motion of it all, the widening of Galiose’s eyes as he saw his weapon flash unimpeded toward me, the glint of the blade in the strange light of the cavern, and then was I struck and pierced through, just as Chaldrin had been, just as I had wished to be. The blow was more like that of a fist than of a blade, and as I dropped a sword grown suddenly too heavy and sank to my knees, I wondered at the strange lack of pain.
“No, no, what have you done?” Galiose shouted, suddenly beside himself with the upset he had vowed not to feel. “You have made me slay you, and I cannot bear the pain!”
“You may not take the pain which is mine, male,” I whispered, finding that his sword was gone from between my breasts, and his arm held me from the stone of the floor. I had memory of neither thing being done, and knew pleasure that soon all other memory would be gone as well. I looked up into eyes from which tears fell freely, and attempted a smile to soothe away his sadness.
“You have done me a priceless service, brother,” I whispered, feeling a great lethargy creeping over me. The wetness of my strengthless flesh gave me some small discomfort, and my hair twisted beneath the arm of the male as well, yet did I smile with gratitude for the gift I had been given. “Jalav is greatly weary,” I said, “and now, through the generosity of her brother, she will rest. All debts between us are no more, all guilt and accusations wiped away.”
“Why?” asked the male in a tear-choked voice I was barely able to hear. “You could have bested me easily, and yet you allowed me to slay you. For what reason have you done such a thing?”