Sharon Green - [Terrillian 02], page 41
"So you want me to speak, do you?" I growled, pulling from his hands to turn and face him. I was furious at what he'd said, and wanted him to know it. "The name of the man responsible is Tammad. Now go ahead and take that wonderful vengeance that's so rightfully yours!"
"What do you say, wenda?" he frowned, staring down at me. "Never have I touched you with a whip."
"You didn't have to," I answered grimly. "Back there in the desert, with the Hamarda, you refused to touch me because I'd been beaten down too far for your tastes. I reminded you too much of those slaves you so despise, so you told your good brother Kednin that you were no longer interested in me. I needed your arms so much then, but all you did was let other men use me and then get up and walk out, too good to contaminate yourself by touching a slave. That's why Kednin had me whipped, because I'd failed to please you, and that's why I would have been whipped to death once Kednin had the chance to watch the fun.
I was an idiot to get loose and run away; if I hadn't, I would have been out of this long ago."
I turned away from the stunned expression on his face and in his mind and ran toward my sleeping room, needing to be alone for a while. I closed the door and leaned against it, blinking away the blurry vision I'd suddenly developed. It seemed impossibly hard for some men to understand how tiring being brave all the time tended to be; all they could see was how easy it was for them to do. I wasn't proud of what I'd done in the Hamarda camp, but all the time I'd been condemning myself for what I'd thought had repelled him, he was being self-righteous and particular. I walked to the pile of cushions the room held and lowered myself down among them, then simply closed my eyes.
I was nearly asleep when I heard the door opening, and Tammad come walking in. His mind had tried to recapture the calm that was so much a part of him, but this time he hadn't made it. He was furious with himself, and was having trouble keeping that fury from lashing out all around him. He came over to me where I lay among the cushions, and crouched down to touch my face.
"Terril, I have come to offer my apologies," he said, his voice tight with the anger he held inside. "I searched for other words which would speak of the stupidity I have been guilty of, yet words come poorly to my tongue when they are most needed. I have too often depended upon my sword to speak for me, a practice which avails me naught in these circumstances.
Were it possible for me to suffer the pain you were given, I would do so gladly."
"But it is possible," I murmured sleepily, looking up at him. "I can recreate everything I felt and give it to you just the way it was given to me. Would you like me to do that?"
He hesitated a very long time, seconds at least, his mind trying to adapt to the alienness of the concept. Then, very solemnly, he nodded his head.
"Should that make the pain more bearable for you, you may do that very thing. It was my place to protect you, to take you in my arms no matter the consequences, to demand your release or die in attempting to free you. Give me the pain you were given, hama, so that I may share it with you and thereby lighten its hold on you."
He continued to stare at me, the calm in complete possession of him again, his mind open and waiting for whatever would come. He spoke the truth when he said he would welcome sharing the pain, and I could feel the tears returning to my eyes. Deep down beneath the anger which had nearly dissolved was his own pain, a self-condemnation so great it made mine pale and wraithlike in comparison. I sobbed once before I could stop myself, and then I was clawing my way out of the nest of cushions to throw myself into his arms. He held me to him while I nearly strangled him with the hold I had around his neck, but nearly strangling didn't bother him. He immediately radiated such contentment and pleasure that I was nearly drowned.
"It still won't work," I moaned, trying to defend myself from the assault of his mind. "I won't work for you and I won't obey you, and I won't stop being what I am. Rimilia isn't the world for me!"
"It is the only world for you for it is my world," he murmured, pressing me back into the cushions. "This world is mine and you are mine, and no man will ever take either from me. I have missed you sorely, hama, and have spent many empty nights dreaming of once again holding you in my arms. Now I need no longer be content with dreams."
He twisted around to put his lips on mine, cutting off the rest of my protests; my head began whirling immediately, and didn't stop for a long, long time.
It was nearly dark by the time food was brought to us, but somehow we didn't miss it any sooner. I wrapped a piece of silk around myself to go into the next room for the meal, and it turned out to be a good thing I did. Just as we were finishing the meal, a knock on the door preceded the appearance of Len and Garth.
"Here's the haddin you wanted, Tammad," Garth said, coming forward with the dark green cloth. "There was a time when I would have preferred red to dark green, but those days were before my time in the kitchens."
"You would have disliked it even more if you'd ended up in the vendra ralle," Len told him, closing the door before following him farther into the room. "It was all I could do to keep that from happening."
"It was all you could do?" Garth frowned, stopping to turn back to him. "You mean you manipulated someone to get that to happen? Why?"
"I decided I needed you more wherever I was going than
Tammad would need you where he was going," Len shrugged. "I'm not used to the adventurous life like you rugged types. If I was going to have my throat cut, I wanted someone around to say good-bye to."
"And you complain about Terry," Garth said in disgust, looking Len up and down. "All this time I thought I'd been sent to the kitchens because I wasn't good enough to be a vendra."
"You were more than good enough," Len assured him, actually looking ashamed. "If I'd known it would mean that much to you, I would have explained a good deal sooner. I'm sorry, Garth. I should have gone alone after all."
"I don't believe this," I said, talking to the empty air. "One of them is complaining about not having had to risk his life in the arena, and the other is apologizing for having saved him from it. They must both be crazy."
"They are men," Tammad chuckled, rising from his place on the floor beside me as Len and Garth both laughed. "It is not possible for a woman to know the mind of a man even with a talent such as yours, hama. The thoughts of each are too alien for the other."
"That doesn't change the fact that they're crazy," I returned, watching Tammad take the haddin from Garth and turn toward the sleeping room with it. They were all amused by my comment, but I noticed that none of them denied the charge.
While Tammad was in getting rid of the trappings of a vendra, Len and Garth explained how they'd managed to track me down each time. In the first instance, the dead l'lenda had been found much sooner than they normally would have been when someone was sent to hurry us in our bathing and clothes washing so our guards could join the other men in listening to Garth. Tammad took most of his l'lendaa and chased after us, finding that the savages were moving in a straight enough line to be followed even in the pouring rain. The l'lendaa caught up to the savages right after they'd sold us; rescued the last woman who hadn't been sold, then set about "questioning" the savages with Len's help. As soon as the drugs wore off the savages were easy to reach, and once Tammad learned where the rest of us had been taken the savages were put out of their misery and the Hamarda were run down. None of them knew what had been done to me by the Hamarda, but when I had turned up missing along with a seetar, Tammad noticed that his own seetar had broken its tether.
After buying the other women and sending them back with two of the men, Tammad had had Len ask the seetar if he knew where I had gone. Len had had a hard time making himself understood, but finally managed to convey the question. The seetar did indeed know which way I had gone, having followed me with his mind as far as he could, and he didn't mind taking Tammad and the rest in the same direction. He'd been worrying about me since I'd left, and was anxious to find out if I was all right. Amazingly enough, a seetar's ability to follow someone is greater than that of the zang, used in olden times on Central to track down criminals. Tammad and his men turned out to be just as amazed, especially when they were led to Aesnil's palace, but they were too anxious to end the chase to remember to be cautious. Aesnil had the three chasers arrested, then started her campaign on me.
Tammad came back just as the story was finishing, but before he could comment another knock came at the door. This time it was Cinnan, who entered with a small roll of the sort of parchment Rimilians used to write on. He nodded to Len and Garth, eyed me with a directness I still found disturbing even after so much time on Rimilia, then turned to Tammad.
"This was given to one of my men earlier this day," he said, handing over the roll. "He was directed to give it to the vendra Tammad as soon as possible, yet found his duties in the aftermath of the battle too weighty to put aside. It was brought to me no more than a few moments ago, and I now bring it to you."
Tammad accepted the roll with a frown of curiosity, opened the thing, then began reading. I could feel his anger grow greater the farther he went, and at last he looked up and threw the roll from him.
"Who is this Daldrin?" he demanded, staring at Len and Garth. "Am I mistaken in believing his name was mentioned by the two of you?"
"Daldrin was the slave Terril brought to guide us back to camp when our escape was accomplished," Len said, answering in Rimilian because the question had been put in that language. "He seemed disturbed over leaving Terril unprotected, yet otherwise did exactly what was required of him. He even returned with us to attack the ralle."
"So his concern was for Terril, was it?" Tammad growled, still glaring at Len and Garth.
"It seems he intends to continue concerning himself with Terril."
"What do you mean?" Cinnan asked as I stared in shock. "What word does the message contain?"
"See for yourself," Tammad said, gesturing toward the roll he had thrown away before
pacing to the windows. Cinnan retrieved the roll and opened it, then began reading aloud.
"To the l'lenda known as Tammad,'" Cinnan read with a frown. "Accept the greetings of one called Daldrin, a man who is less of a fool than you. When one finds a wenda worth banding, one bands her to the limit of his desire not considerably less as a punishment for her. The wenda Terril will wear five bands when she is mine, which will occur as soon as I am able to return from bringing my brother to our home, where his wounds will be carefully tended. Should Terril no longer be in your possession, I will find her wherever she has fled; should you be less of a fool than I believe you and retain possession of her, we will face one another as men. My home lies higher in the mountains, north of that place known as Grelana.
A true man might come to seek me out, yet I have little doubt that I shall find it necessary to seek you. Till the time we face one another, I shall remain-Daldrin. "
"He doesn't mince words, does he?" Len muttered, turning to stare down at me where I sat frozen in place. "How many conquests do you have to make, Terry?"
"He can't be serious," I choked, shaking my head back and forth. "He hardly knows me-and I never even pretended to love him."
"A woman may be taught to love the man to whom she belongs," Tammad said, turning back from the windows. "Did this Daldrin use you?"
"We used each other," I answered, suddenly feeling defensive. "He was the slave Aesnil assigned to me, sent here with orders to rape me-which he refused to do. Why are you feeling so put out? You've never hesitated in giving me to other men."
He started to snap out an answer, then thought better of it and forced himself to calm.
"It is my right to give my wenda to any man who proves himself worthy of her use," he explained, trying not to sound as though he were stating the obvious. "For a man to take her use without my permission is an insult in itself; for that same man to then challenge me to battle is to call for a fight to the death. Had he not known my feelings for you, he would have attempted to buy you rather than tell me you were not adequately banded. We must meet, this Daldrin and I, and settle the matter between us."
"You can't mean you intend going along with this insanity?" I asked incredulously, rising to my feet with the blue silk still held around me. "I won't let myself be fought for, do you hear? I won't have it! And what about the rest of your plans, and the dealings you have with the Amalgamation? Do you intend just letting them . . . ?"
"Hush, wenda," he said, coming close to take my face in his hand. "The matter is not yours to discuss nor decide. Was it not you who once pointed out that my love for my people was greater than my love for you? I now find that I cannot turn away from one who would challenge me for you, no matter that other matters, weighty matters, await my attention. You are mine, hama, and I will not allow another to claim you."
He leaned down to kiss me, then turned to Cinnan to explain what we'd been talking about. I let myself fold slowly back down to the carpet fur, stunned by what had happened.
We'd been through a lot of back-and-forth about our feelings for one another, but now, because of me, he was going to face another man to the death. He was determined to go through with it, but I became just as determined that he wouldn't. I'd have to stop him-and stop Daldrin-without either one knowing I was interfering. I could do it easily enough but-without letting them know it was happening? With two overgrown, stubborn beasts who both knew what I could do?
How would I ever accomplish that-and resolve the rest of my problems at the same time?
How?
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