“Those who look upon death as a kindness have not yet learned how precious life may be made to be,” said Galiose, his hooded look of relief mixed well with an appealing oddness. “Also does it seem that freedom concerns your warriors only when it is that of wenches; had that not been so, there would be no slaves of any sort about. To keep men imbonded is clearly acceptable to you, for men bring you pleasure which wenches do not. A pity you have never learned that men are far more than the bearers of that which brings pleasure to females.”
Those who moved about the lower floor looked with curiosity upon those who had just descended, yet they all continued about their business rather than intrude. Perhaps what warriors were there and those called servants had pressing tasks elsewhere—or perhaps they were able to see how the words of Galiose had affected me. I would not speak of the reasons for retaining some few of the males as slaves, for Galiose was not one to whom a Midanna must account, yet had I another matter upon which I would not refrain from speaking.
“Jalav has been given many opportunities to learn of those things males are capable of aside from pleasure,” said I, sending to him a look filled with memory. “Would Galiose care to see the leavings of some few of those doings?”
“Enough, wench,” said the male at once, his eyes quickly leaving me, his voice heavy with something very like defeat. “I have spent too many reckid hearing first from Ceralt and then from Aysayn of those things which have been done to you by men. I, myself, stand as guilty as those others, and knowledge of this fact sickens me. There is no apology which might be offered for such a thing, save possibly to give aid where I might, such as with Ceralt and that other. Perhaps, should the Serene Oneness smile upon us all, you will become deeply enough enmeshed with them that you will find yourself with no spare moments to give men challenge. Certainly such an end is worthy in itself.”
Again his eyes were upon me. Well did Galiose know that I deeply wished to give him challenge; the male thought to distract me with foolishness in the hopes of thereby extending his life, yet were his thoughts as badly formed as those of all males. When once the matter of the strangers was done he would be the same, but it was idle to repeat the thing again at that time; the male would not believe till my sword point stood at his throat, and then would all save ending be behind him. This I spoke of with a look of my own, then did I turn to continue us on our way.
Galiose walked quietly beside me for some small distance, his silence seemingly filled with inner agitation, and then did he appear to take himself in hand once more. He looked about at the pink stone of the dwelling, as though seeking a sign of familiarity in the midst of strangeness, and then gestured toward the cross-corridor we approached.
“We shall take the left-hand turning there, rather than continue straight ahead,” said he, much as though he walked the halls of his own dwelling. “There is likely to be little of interest in the direction we now move in, and also little to inspect.”
The male spoke with a conviction born of knowledge, and it came to me then that he likely knew the dwelling well, for he had surely been within its walls upon other occasions. I had no wish to abide by his desires, yet was it now clear that to refuse would be to speak of the delaying tactics I had attempted. Galiose would take the direction he desired, and I would find it possible to do no more than regret again the sword left behind me.
The turn to the left was far too easily accomplished, those others with us following after without comment. I strove to recall what might lie in the direction we now took, then found it best to silently admit that I no longer knew, even had the knowledge been mine to begin with. To take a dwelling of such size had proven far easier than to learn its twistings and turnings, most especially for one who had spent so little time within it. Likely even Galiose knew the place better than I, which turned my former intentions to no more than foolishness. It would be best to merely accompany him as had been agreed, all the while looking not once upon . . .
“Do not seek Aysayn for a short while, wench, for he will not be with us,” came a voice nearby, a voice which seemed pleased to have a reason to speak. “He has asked me to inform you that he goes to inquire about the availability of blunted weapons, and will return as soon as he can. Should practice weapons not be available we will need to fashion them, therefore does he feel it best that he begin now while you are otherwise engaged.”
“Otherwise engaged,” I echoed in a mutter, finding Aysayn’s message near as annoying as Mehrayn’s satisfaction. Others moved about at necessary tasks, while I did no more than accompany males through corridors I had no knowledge of, so that one of their number might look critically upon those who had accomplished what his own force would surely find beyond them. Great fools were males, and Jalav scarcely different for endlessly permitting herself to be thrust into their presence.
“What is it that you seek, Galiose?” came another voice at my side, the speaker stepping smoothly between myself and the High Seat of Ranistard. “This place seems well-kept and efficiently run, much like your own palace. The servants are numerous and pleased to do what they might, and even the warrior wenches seem alert.”
“To seem alert is not to be alert, Ceralt,” replied Galiose, his eyes narrowed as he looked ahead. “Neatness and servant efficiency do little to protect a palace, and this place may well be under attack very shortly. I would see what precautions have been taken, and how well they have been maintained after so many feyd of quiet and peace. That doorway just ahead to the right is the armory, yet does it stand open and unguarded. Apparently any who wish weapons need only enter and take them.”
“Surely there are none about these halls who have proven themselves untrustworthy in such a way,” said Mehrayn, his intention to lodge a protest somewhat dampened by the obvious truth spoken by Galiose. “What need to guard weapons in the midst of one’s own?”
“What better way to find victory over a sleepy-eyed force, than to appear unexpectedly in their midst?” countered Galiose, his eyes unmoving from the open doorway we had approached and stopped before. “And, adding insult to injury, using their own weapons to best them? Only wenches would gift their enemies quite so well and so thoughtlessly, yet what else might one expect? To teach them better, I may well enter and arm myself from that which fails to be properly guarded.”
Galiose had found an inarguable point of contention, and fully intended using it to replace that which had been taken from him.
“You have not my permission to appropriate what you will from that place,” said I to the look he bestowed upon me, showing no more than the mild refusal I spoke with. “Not till you have been given that permission may you arm yourself.”
“And I say a man who finds the soft underbelly of a guard beast, may pierce that underbelly at will,” countered the male, his full-grown determination now bringing him pleasure. “The sword I strap about me will speak more fully of your lacks than a thousand words, and not soon will you forget such a lesson. When I have chosen the sword I wish, you may then send for wenches to guard this place.”
With such words did the High Seat of Ranistard turn from me and begin to stride into the chamber, a chamber invitingly open and unguarded. Ceralt looked toward me with a faint air of hesitation, likely considering how he might join Galiose without bringing anger to she who stood beside him, and also did Mehrayn seem of two minds. As Galiose sought a weapon, they also wished the same—and their hesitation alone kept them from sharing the lesson their brother male had earlier spoken of.
Galiose was no more than three steps within the chamber, his gaze already moving about the rows and stacks of weapons, when the net fell upon him. Large and heavy was that net, meant to be used upon more than just one, and its weight and the surprise of its abrupt drop sent Galiose down to the stone of the floor with an outraged shout. Even as the net settled about the male and bore him down, brown-clad Harra and gold-clad Hulna appeared to surround their captive, some armed with spears, some with unsheathed blades, all grinning widely. Galiose attempted to struggle beneath the net, furiously seeking to free himself, yet was he no more successful than I had been in a similar circumstance. When it was clear he could not escape, I walked slowly forward to stand over him.