He was solemn, filled with the pain of difficult memory, doubtless reflecting my own memories.
“I am already aware of what reasons you had,” I said, beginning to turn with the thought of joining Aysayn and Galiose, yet did a large hand come quickly to my arm to halt me.
“You could not be aware of my reasons,” said he, a faint smile coming to him as though he anticipated speaking a truth too long held silent. “No others save Lialt and Telion were told of my doings, and they would not have betrayed a secret entrusted to them. You see, wench, Lialt had walked the Snows, and had discovered that . . . .”
“That you were to die,” I interrupted, making him look serious. “It was you I learned the thing from, overhearing the words you spoke to Telion. And yet Lialt misread the Snows, for the thing which was so certain was, in the end, avoided.”
“Narrowly,” he stressed, moving a hand to the thick lock of hair which draped my shoulder. “I had feared that I would not survive to touch you ever again, to put my lips to yours, to—I sought to breed hatred within you against my ending, so that you would not be given the pain of mourning me. Were my attempts too successful, Jalav? Is that the reason you have allowed another to take my place?”
Soberly did the male look down upon me, pain in his light eyes. I, too, felt pain, yet not for similar reasons.
“What place there is beside a war leader of Midanna is not meant to be filled by males,” I said, taking my eyes from his and attempting to free my arm. “It was this that you were unable to accept, was it not? That I am a warrior and war leader, not a village female all aquiver to do your bidding? The place you took was not freely given, nor is it meant to be given to any.”
“There is a place beside any wench for a man willing to take it,” said he, refusing, though gently, to release my arm. “Indeed do I insist upon seeing you as other than a warrior, for you are, in truth, more woman than war leader, more mine than any other’s. Have I not drawn you from the circle and declared you mine before all those who follow me? When the discussions here are done, you will again be mine.”
“Just so easily?” I asked, looking at him again to see the blaze in his light eyes which declared he would be obeyed no matter the will of others. “And what of the goddess, and the task I see to for her? Have I been named Mida’s chosen and the messenger of Sigurr merely so that I might be claimed by a male? Are the Midanna to face the coming strangers with no war leader to direct them? Have you so quickly forgotten the manner in which Mida deals with one who attempts to deny her will?”
“There are sufficient men about to see to those who come to do us ill,” said he, stubbornness ablaze in the eyes which looked down upon me. “There is no need whatsoever for wenches to enter battle, therefore no need of one to lead them. It is more than past time that you be permanently claimed, woman, and I am the man who will see to it.”
“Forgive the interruption, yet I could not fail to overhear the fact that some task requires doing,” came another voice, an innocently helpful voice, causing Ceralt to release my arm. “Might I volunteer my services in seeing to the thing?”
Needless to say, Mehrayn wanted to join us, pleasantly smiling at those he addressed. Ceralt seemed immediately prepared to take insult at the jocular offer, yet quickly mastered his emotions.
“I give you thanks for your generous thoughtfulness, yet is assistance unnecessary,” he returned in a manner similar to Mehrayn’s, looking directly upon Sigurr’s Sword. “The task is not so difficult, therefore shall I find it more than possible to accomplish it alone.”
“Strangely enough, I, too, have a task to accomplish which I prefer seeing to alone,” said Mehrayn, showing continuing pleasure in the face of Ceralt’s smooth mannerliness. “Certain undertakings are more satisfying when seen to in such a way, are they not? Tell me, Jalav: which of those dishes upon the board do you find most palatable? As you and yours have done so excellently well in taking and holding this place, I will accept your recommendation without hesitation.”
Now was Mehrayn looking upon me rather than Ceralt, with an interested attentiveness, his words having put a silent, jaw-clenching fury upon the other male. I did not know why Ceralt would be so upset, nor was I able to fathom the reason behind Mehrayn’s asking such a thing. Surely the male was able to know of his own self which of the provender appeared tempting.
“I, too, would be pleased to have such a recommendation,” Ceralt said nearly at once, quickly changing his scowl to a smile as he looked upon me. “So truly excellent were your efforts in preparing provender upon the journey we shared, that a man would be a fool to doubt your ability to know the finest. Let us move nearer to the board.”
No longer was Mehrayn quite as pleased as he had been, most especially as he was nearly left behind when Ceralt put his arm about me to guide me toward the board. In one stride, however, Mehrayn was again to my right, and then there were three who halted before the provender.
“What of this?” Mehrayn asked at once, reaching toward the roast lellin. “It appears much as the lellin we shared in the forests between Signurr’s city and the lands of the Midanna, when you rode to claim the leadership of those who were then enemy to you. I believe I shall never forget how fine it was, seeing you astride your kan, your swordbelt firmly upon you ....”
His green eyes looked upon me rather than the provender, his words recalling the closeness we had then shared for a time, his body calling out to mine as ever it did. Had he pulled me to him then I could not have refused him, yet was there another who stood with us.
“Perhaps you would recommend this nilno,” Ceralt said before Mehrayn’s words might continue, his arm about me turning me from the contemplation of Sigurr’s Sword into which I had fallen. “I had not considered uncooked nilno, yet does sight of it recall to mind the time when first we met—and also the journey we shared in traveling between Bellinard and Ranistard. Never had I thought it possible for a wench to eat uncooked fare, and yet you did so without hesitation when the need arose. Never shall I forget how magnificent I then considered you—and how much more magnificent I found you to be after that. Our time together was unparalleled pleasure for me, far beyond anything I envisioned as possible. It was no less than . . . .”
It was light eyes beneath dark hair which held me then, bringing to mind the time I had so wished I might be Ceralt’s. The concern of the male was oft times smothering, yet was it a concern which came from within him, one which truly put this warrior before his own beliefs and wishes. Perhaps it was that which caused him to release me from the vow he had stolen, the desire to see me kept from harm. Sooner would he have me free of the bond which held me beside him, than given hurt and humiliation through being forbidden to touch hand to weapon. His arm about me spoke of how truly long it had been since he had held me to him, and surely did I then wish it might be two arms about me rather than just one—had there not been others about.
“Have I ever spoken to you, of the time I fought for the place of Sigurr’s Sword?” Mehrayn asked, he in turn treading upon the words of Ceralt, his arm about my waist turning me toward him again. “The one who held the place then was skillful indeed, yet I met him before all of the city, intent upon striving to the utmost to make the honor mine. No more than a breech of red cloth was I permitted to wear about my loins, to show, should I fail in my attempt, that it was a lowly slave who had foolishly sought to advance himself rather than one who had been a warrior of Sigurr. The fey was hot and bright when we stepped out to face one another, all those looking on silent with the tension of the moment . . . .”