And yet, I thought, throwing off the distraction of memory, Sigurr might be avoided simply by failing to stand before Mida in challenge. The goddess’s feelings of insult were clearly deep, yet should I refuse to place myself within Sigurr’s easy reach, I would then be a source of frustration rather than satisfaction—yet would my own frustration remain! I had no wish to forgo the giving of challenge, however I failed to see how it might be done save by standing too near the one I wished to shun.
I sat up upon the floor cloth, my knees drawn up, my arms about them, my annoyance burning higher and higher. Never would I or any Midanna warrior seek safety by standing behind the presence of another, yet was I able to see Mida’s actions in no other light. To taunt the one who was war leader to every Midanna who raised sword, to cause that war leader shame and pain, to inflict agonies and humiliation, to deny her the males she would have chosen, and then to refuse challenge! No Midanna would ever have acted so, and to think that Mida herself would engage in so foul a doing was nearly inconceivable! I had wondered at the temerity of inspiring such anger in a Midanna war leader without thought of consequence, yet had the consequences been well thought upon—and likely laughed at. What need to fear the anger of a war leader, when that war leader would be too well occupied with the doings of another to consider anger?
And for what reason had Ceralt been led to that place, just at that time? Mehrayn accompanied me out of necessity, yet the presence of Ceralt was not the same. For what reason had both of the males I found interest in been brought together, the males Mida had wished to deny me? I no longer believed in the innocence of such happenings, that no purpose was to be served through their occurrence. There was purpose aplenty—which must be discovered before it might be understood and countered. For this foolishness to be sent to bedevil me now, when the strangers were nearly upon us, was a distraction I had no need of, yet could not avoid. I would not allow the goddess, in her anger with me, to bring harm to others who were, in essence, blameless. That would be dishonorable.
I had stretched out upon the floor cloth on my back, left leg raised and right extended, unseeing eyes upon the chamber’s ceiling, thinking of the strangers, when yet another distraction came. Into my sight stepped a male, his face expressionless about eyes filled with hunger, his gaze coming down to me where I lay, his tongue moistening his lips. Although the previous serving males I had seen had been clothed with blue tied about their waists, this male who looked down upon me wore naught in the way of covering, nor was he free. The slave collar clasped his neck, and he seemed somehow familiar. I frowned at his abrupt appearance; however he, himself, showed only the trace of a smile.
“Mistress, I have been sent by the master called Aysayn to ask a thing of you,” said he, his voice rough despite the softness of his tone and words. “The master would know what place is to be used for the meeting soon to be held, and would know as well if you agree that all participants should appear unarmed. I am told that you will be aware of the reason why that might be best.”
“I am indeed aware of such a reason,” said I, frowning, raising myself to sitting as the male crouched beside me. “In what manner were you given permission to enter this chamber?”
“Mistress, I am a slave,” said he, seeming amused. “Slaves have no need of asking permission, for their presence is not merely required, it is demanded. Also did I rap first upon your door, in an effort to keep from intrusion, yet no answer was vouchsafed me. As I was charged with bringing you a message, I considered it my duty to enter without specific response. I offer my apologies for having taken you from what were surely considerations of great import.”
Despite the smoothness of the slave’s speech, I forebore giving him answer as I twisted about where I sat, seeking the place where Rilas had been. No longer was the Keeper there, nor was she then within the chamber; clearly had I been so deep in thought, that I had heard no more of her departure than I had heard of the arrival of the male. For what reason she had departed without speaking further words to me I knew not, yet was that a question the answer to which must be sought out another time.
“You may take my reply to the male Aysayn,” said I, straightening again to search the floor cloth for the emptied cup I had earlier dropped. “Tell him that the meeting may be held here, where there is provender and drink aplenty, and also that I concur with his thoughts regarding weapons. Should he have difficulty extracting agreement from our guests, have him recall to them the number of warriors in this place. Should it be necessary to state the request more than once, the second instance will no longer see it as a request.”
I began, then, to raise myself from the floor, my intent being to refill the cup I had retrieved, yet the left hand of the slave came to my shoulder, his right to the cup I held.
“Allow me to see to that, Mistress,” said he, taking the cup with a strange smile. “I will, of course, deliver the message—once I have seen to the needs of my mistress. ”
He straightened from his crouch and stepped past me toward the board with provender and daru, taking no note of the way my eyes followed him. I had a great dislike of slaves, male and female both, yet the actions of the male seemed somewhat strange, even for one in bondage. Silently I rose to my feet, walked behind the male to the board, then stood awaiting the end of his task. When he turned again with the cup refilled he started, nearly spilling the daru, greatly surprised that I stood so near behind him.
“What is it you seek here, male?” I asked, taking the cup from him before he regained his composure. The male stood perhaps three fingers above me, broad enough of shoulder yet more slender than muscled, dark hair with dark eyes as well.
“I seek only to serve you, Mistress,” said he, with difficulty. “I would serve the mistress completely, in every way demanded of me, in every way I might. ” And then he had gone to his knees, bent, and pressed his lips to my foot. “I beg you to command me, mistress,” he whispered, his eyes no longer upon me. “A slave begs for the favor of his mistress.”
The male remained upon all fours, his head bowed, his body held in the tension of misery. I stepped back, surprised, and looked down upon him with curiosity.
“In a dwelling filled with Midanna warriors, what need would there be for a male to beg use?” I asked, sipping at the daru I held. “Have my warriors been too immersed in other matters to take note of you?”
“So you do, indeed, fail to recall me,” said the slave, raising his head slowly to bring his gaze to my face. “I had thought you merely toyed with me, sought to have me beg for that which I—” His words ended as his head shook briefly, a negation of the useless, and then he sighed deeply. “I was a slave here in the palace when you and your wenches took it,” said he, a good deal of bitterness to be heard in the soft pain of his voice. “I attempted to secure my freedom through service to one of your wenches, but you discovered my attempt and ended it before it might achieve its goal. As you see, I continue to find failure in achieving it.”
“Now do I recall you,” said I, gazing down upon the male who knelt with head hanging and defeat all through him, a large measure of satisfaction accompanying the memory. “It was you, was it not, who attempted to force a vow from my warrior through the use of your body? That I aided her should give you no surprise, for I am the war leader of her war leader. In what manner should this have brought you to your present state?”
“Are you unable to recall your commands?” demanded the male, his skin darkening as he continued to avoid my eye. His state was clear enough to any who looked upon him, the smell of need strong beside the look, unable to control what he felt despite his humiliation. “It was your command that I not be used save with that drug in me, and with the number of men taken as captives, your wenches found no need for the drug!” he cried. “At first I was well pleased to find no need for tickling wenches who arrogantly strode about, and then the feyd passed and more feyd beyond those. I—am a man, with the needs of a man, unable to be among nearly naked wenches, seeing them give release to other men, and feel naught myself! It was occasionally possible, then, to catch a slave wench and use her to see to my need, and then the slave wenches and a good number of the men slaves were freed to become servants! It was then no longer possible to touch the ones I had previously used, for they would have run weeping to your warriors. I have not had a woman in more feyd than I am able to count, more feyd than I am able to bear! No man should be done in this way!”