“Indeed shall I vanquish Mida’s enemies,” said I, turning from the wounded gaze which held to me so tightly. “I shall find victory over the strangers as I have vowed to do, at last completing this task which has become well-nigh endless, and should I survive the doing, I will then see the Hosta freed. Once that, my final duty, has been seen to, I shall then return to Sigurr’s Peak where Mida’s Realm upon this world may be found. Once there—once there, she and I will speak of denial, and of the giving of pain, and of the spilling of blood. Jalav will be free to ride and do as she wills, else will she be one with the endless dark.”
“Jalav, no,” whispered Rilas from behind me, having stood from the floor cloth to place a hand upon my shoulder. “No mortal may do battle with a god!”
“So had I thought,” I responded grimly, gazing upon the blue silk which clothed the wall opposite to where I stood, no more than silver wall sconces breaking the span of it. “No mortal may do battle with a god, yet have we mortals been set by Mida to meet and best the strangers. In her wisdom, Ennat spoke a truth which I had not previously seen: are not the enemies of gods themselves gods? Should it be beyond possibility for mortals to find victory over gods, for what reason have we been commanded to battle with the strangers? No, Rilas, battle is more than possible, and I shall have it even should it be the end of me.”
“I find it impossible to comprehend for what reason you have been brought to such sacrilegious determination,” said Rilas, her hand gone from my shoulder, the greater part of upset gone from her voice. “That Mida allows and demands such beliefs from you is clear, yet do I fail to see the purpose of it. Well may such purpose even include the males.”
“It cannot be that Mida desires battle thought in me,” said I, turning to look upon a now thoughtfully vexed Rilas. “For what reason would she wish to face me?”
“For what reason would she not?” demanded Rilas in turn, annoyed at having been drawn from the depths of her thoughts. “Is a goddess to fear the skill of a mortal warrior? Is Mida to back in uncertainty from one whose every breath is taken in accordance with the will of that goddess? I now see the basis for your disturbance, Jalav, for you have forgotten, in your upset, that all which occurs is by Mida’s will. You, and I, and all those about us, act only in accordance with that will.”
Having spoken the words which were to her merely explanation, Rilas then turned from me and sought again her place upon the floor cloth. Her thoughts had already resubmerged her in private considerations, therefore did she see naught of the annoyance which surely flared within me. For what reason it had not occurred to me that my thirst for vengeance might well be inspired by the goddess herself, I knew not, yet did I certainly know that I had no wish for it to be so. To encourage a war leader of Midanna to stand before one in challenge as though that war leader were no more than a warrior-to-be was deep insult; more than enough insult had been given me during the task which now neared completion. Little desire had I to find more.
In continuing annoyance and growing frustration I turned to the board of provender, chose a wing and leg of roast lellin, and began to eat. For what reason would it be Mida’s wish that I challenge her? Should it be the goddess’s desire to see me fall, the doing might more easily be accomplished in the battle which was to come. It might well have been that Mida wished me in her Realm so that I might be punished for insolence and sacrilege, yet would she be well aware of the fact that I would accept the final dark sooner than submit to such a thing. That I could not be forced to bow to her was clear from the fact that I had clearly seen to the task given me according to my own preferences, and that would not have been permitted had I merely moved to the desires of she for whom I rode. To believe I was determined to give challenge only through the will of another was infuriating and I refused to entertain the possibility. The wisdom of Rilas was well known to all, yet did I refuse to believe that she was right this time.
I had put aside my pot of daru so that I might clean the meat from the lellin bones, yet was my interest in feeding gone after no more than a few bites. I returned the section of lellin to the board with an impatient toss, took a cloth upon which I wiped the grease from my hands, then retrieved my daru to accompany me as I prowled about the chamber.
What purpose other than my own would be served by my challenging Mida? The thought nagged at me as I paced from the board of provender toward the raised area of the chamber, a platform upon which the former High Seat of Bellinard was wont to display himself. I recalled how he had appeared when my warriors and I had first entered the chamber, carelessly unconcerned in his arrogance, sprawled at his ease in the large, intricately carved, silk-covered seat, surrounded by slave females who instantly saw to his every wish. Much alike are males everywhere, seeking always to be served, taking for their own the females they desire—
I stopped abruptly, the cup of dare poised nearly at my lips. Suddenly it occurred to me what purpose other than my own would be served, should I challenge Mida. I would then be there, in Mida’s Realm upon this world, a domain which stood beside that of Sigurr. Once again I would be there, yet where Mida’s protection had been mine when first I had visited there, a second appearance would not find it the same. Only Mida’s will had kept me from claiming by Sigurr a fate the shadow of which had nearly ended me. To recall the time was to taste of terror, to shudder in revulsion and horror, to swallow down in vain the illness which rose with bitter bile.
Quickly I crouched where I had halted, head swirling dizzily, heart pounding as though I ran headlong, the air in the chamber suddenly insufficient for my lungs. Could such a thing truly be Mida’s purpose, to lure me with foolish thoughts of challenge to a place where I might be taken by Sigurr? Much unexpected pleasure had Sigurr had from me, so Mida had said. The dark god of males had been taken with me, I had been told, his interest high in she who had given him deeper release than any other mortal female. I swallowed down my daru quickly, emptying the cup and then dropping it, then wrapped my arms about myself in an effort to free my body of the ice deep within. Sigurr would seek me again, so Mida had said, and perhaps do a thing never before done. What that might be I had no wish to know; what I had already learned of Sigurr was more than any mortal should know, more than any would care to know.
Again my thoughts returned to my time in Mida’s Realm upon this world, a realm which lay beside that of the dark god. At first I had thought that the two domains were kept from one another save when captives were taken, yet I had learned there were other times when they were brought together. Few indeed were the outsiders who found their way through the cold and snow of the north to reach the caverns below Sigurr’s Peak, however those who were called Midanna and Sigurri had need of new lives to maintain and increase their numbers. I had stood watching from the shadows when goddess and god summoned all who followed them, bringing male and female together in a great cavern and commanding them to their duty. I had thought to see pleasure indulged in, for in such a manner are new warrior lives brought forth, yet had there been no trace of pleasure, neither for Midanna nor Sigurri. In truth it had chilled me to see that no single pair failed to find discomfort, disgust, and even pain at the coupling, all suffering grim and hated requirement rather than a sharing of eagerness. It had come to me then with a flash of understanding that the gods themselves kept pleasure from their followers, allowing them such feelings only when they forced use from captives and slaves, as the two gods demonstrated when the grimness was completed. The male chosen by Mida had attempted to contain his fear, but the female claimed by Sigurr had screamed and screamed and screamed . . . .