“I believe you feel too great an anger at those about you,” he said calmly, ignoring my words. “So great an anger often conceals feelings of another sort. It also seems clear that your anger at Mehrayn these past feyd is meant to keep him at a distance from you. Are you unable to decide between the Sword and that dark-haired High Rider of the Belsayah?”
“All males are fools,” I muttered, staring malevolently at the one who called me sister. “What decisions Jalav must make over males are concerned only with their battle disposition, naught to do with individuals. She who leads all of the Midanna has little time for thoughts of dallying.”
“Should you mean to ignore the matter in the hopes that it will soon disappear and cease to be, you delude yourself, girl,” said he, a faint annoyance beginning in voice and eyes alike. “Neither Mehrayn nor that other will allow you to avoid decision, and best would be that you reach such a decision quickly. Should they come to the point of facing one another, the decision will have been taken from you.”
“Sound advice,” said another voice before I might reply to such an absurdity. I turned my head quickly to see Telion where he stood near enough to hear Chaldrin’s words. The male held a cup of daru and a half-eaten leg of lellin, and he sat himself beside me with a nod for Chaldrin.
“You must indeed come quickly to a decision,” said Telion, looking upon me with the light eyes I recalled so well. “Had Ceralt not had concern over the strangers to distract him, he would surely have gone mad the while his wounds healed. Ever were his thoughts upon you, ever were his fears tormenting him. Often, in the beginning, he would awake crying your name, the pain of his wounds fashioning danger and disaster for you in his sleep. He would shout and attempt defiance of Lialt, and then would Lialt and I find the need to force sleeping potions down his throat. Lialt had thought you were difficult to tend; Ceralt proved much the worse for him, and there was but one thing which kept him in his furs till his health returned: the promise that Lialt would search the Snows for your whereabouts when Ceralt was again able to ride. He has missed you sorely, wench, and will not depart without you unless he is made to believe another holds your heart—and then he will go only to await his ending.”
“Mehrayn, too, has had difficulty bearing your separation,” said Chaldrin, his words coming as I gazed silently upon an uncharacteristically sober Telion. “His sleep, too, has been disturbed, I am told, with the belief that for some unknown reason your feelings for him are no more, and you mean to turn your back on him. Much has he agonized over that, sitting unspeaking for hind and staring into nothingness, yet he refuses to burden you with his fears. In your presence he is as he ever was, and fades to a ghost of himself only when you are elsewhere.”
“Therefore must you come to a decision,” said Telion, his gaze now more felt than seen. “Ceralt and that red-haired Sigurri know well enough of their rivalry, therefore is it only a matter of time before they do as your large friend suggests and settle the matter between them. Do you truly wish to see one of them lying slain at your feet?”
Chaldrin attempted to add even more words to those already spoken, but I stood abruptly and walked away, unwilling to hear more. Had I wondered at Ceralt’s presence earlier, I now no longer wondered; he and Mehrayn were meant to face one another, and both were likely fated to fall. Had it been possible to walk the Snows all of us would have had warning—and yet, what likelihood was there that they would have heeded such warning? As males, they determined that none would presume to take that which they considered theirs? I raised the cup of daru to my lips and drained it, but that did not cool my quickly mounting rage. Mida would see the males destroy one another in contest over me, the males themselves would obey her wishes with pleasure and glee, and I—I was to favor one above the other, giving pain in the choice no matter how it was done, foolishly believing my decision would be respected. Clearly the goddess knew Jalav less well than she believed, less well than Jalav had grown to know males. Were I to reject one of the males, thinking to give brief pain and then see an end to the difficulty, I would quickly learn that was not the end of it. Males were stubborn, Mehrayn and Ceralt more so than most, and neither would walk away quietly. No matter the beliefs of Chaldrin and Telion, weapons would indeed be raised, and this I would not allow. The wishes of the goddess would not prevail, and the thought came that if I brought her sufficient frustration and anger, perhaps it would be unnecessary to seek her out afterward to give challenge. Best would be were she goaded into seeking me out, leaving Sigurr far behind in his own foul domain.
I looked up to find that all eyes rested upon me expectantly, as though ail were warriors eager for battle, awaiting the word of their war leader. I looked from one to another with a snort of derision, avoiding only Mehrayn and Ceralt, then walked among them all to the board and the daru it held. Many pitchers of daru had been provided for those who would drink with the war leader, but the males had taken little of it. Perhaps they disliked the strength of the drink, and wanted something a bit less potent.
“Am I mistaken in believing I heard words concerning your decision?” asked Aysayn at last, his eyes on me as I turned from the board with cup refilled. “We will, of course, allow you the time to see to any matter which needs attending, before we begin discussion upon the point which brought us together. Most especially should the matter be a serious one.”
A stirring came at the end of his words, as though all those who stood about wished to speak and yet dared not; only Chaldrin and Telion moved, as they brought themselves nearer to the board. I grew annoyed at such foolishness, for they waited, so they thought, to hear which male I would choose to follow, which male I would give my oath to obey. Were I to choose one over the other in accordance with their demands, such would be the decision I rendered, for no other sort of decision was acceptable to males. Clearly they failed to recall that Jalav was a warrior and war leader.
“The decision is of small consequence, and has already been made,” said I to Aysayn, sipping from my daru and giving no indication that I noted his increased attention. Indeed, the attention of all of the males was now even more completely upon me, as though I discussed the fate of our world.
“As the decision has already been made, perhaps you would care to share it with us,” said Aysayn, attempting a smile of comradeship through obvious symptoms of strain. “Has it to do with any of us who now stand within this room?”
“Oh, indeed,” said I with a judicious nod, returning Aysayn’s smile. “It was necessary for me to decide upon one who would share my sleeping leather this darkness, and the decision was easily made. Shall we now talk about the strangers?”
“Perhaps it would be best if we were first to hear which of us has been—honored,” said Galiose with odd heartiness as he stepped nearer to me, his dark eyes eager. “The one who has been chosen will surely wish to prepare himself, and we others would wish to offer him our congratulations. Will you speak his name?”
“Certainly,” said I, smiling at Ceralt and Mehrayn. The two males stood together, somewhat apart from the others, dark-haired Ceralt bare-chested above his leather breech and leggings and silver belt, red-haired Mehrayn equally barechested above the black of his Sigurri loin covering. Truly tempting were the two, large, well-muscled, broadly inviting and able to give great pleasure, yet did they both wish to see me denied in one manner or another. As that was so, I considered it only meet that they taste of the thing themselves for once, and smiled instead at the one who stood beyond them.
“My choice for this darkness is S’Heernoh,” said I, inspecting the male as a Midanna was wont to do. “My warriors speak highly of his ability, and I have decided to see the thing for myself.”