Harry Turtledove - The Golden Shrine

“Mmh,” Hamnet Thyssen said unhappily. He didn’t like the idea of torturing women. He didn’t like the idea of torturing men, either, which didn’t mean he’d never done it. And Ulric had a point. The Rulers were much too likely to judge the Bizogots and Raumsdalians as soft. Keeping Tahpenes healthily on edge wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

“Can you stand?” Ulric asked her, returning to the Bizogots’ tongue.

“I think so,” she said, and showed she could.

“Wait,” Hamnet said as Ulric started to lead her back toward the horses. The adventurer raised a gingery eyebrow. “Search her,” Count Hamnet told him. “Otherwise, you’re liable to sprout steel in some uncomfortable spot.”

“My, my. And here I took you for a dewy-souled innocent,” Ulric Skakki said. Hamnet answered that with the rude noise it deserved. Ulric laughed, then shook his head. “The worst of it is, you’re right. I may not find everything even with a good frisking, but I sure won’t if I don’t check her at all.” Ulric gave Tahpenes a bow of sorts. “This isn’t personal, you understand. Just something I’d better do to keep you from sticking me while I’m not looking.”

She didn’t say anything. If Ulric hadn’t told her the search wasn’t personal, it wouldn’t have been hard for her to think it was. He patted her through her clothes and then reached under them. Chances were she would have slapped his face if she didn’t figure that was a fast way to get herself killed.

He came up with several small, slim holdout blades, too. “Think I missed anything, Thyssen?” he asked when he thought he was done.

“Her hair,” Hamnet said at once. After a moment, he added, “And women have a hiding place men don’t.”

“So they do,” Ulric said, and then, “You have anything shoved up your twat, Tahpenes?”

“No,” she said.

“If you do, I’ll kill you,” Ulric told her. “But the Bizogot women can find out about that when we get back to our camp. As for your hair . . .” He didn’t ask her about that. He patted and prodded at it, and was rewarded with a couple of long, stout pins. “Wouldn’t want one of these poking out of me.”

“Neither would I.” Hamnet nodded to Tahpenes. “Have any more? Give them up now and no blame to you. If you say no and we find them . . . well, you won’t like that, I promise.”

“One more, is all.” The woman pulled it out and gave it to Ulric Skakki. He accepted it with a sour smile; he liked missing things he should have found no more than anyone else would have.

“All the same, you can bloody well ride in front of me,” Ulric said. “That way, Hamnet and I will both have a shot at you if you decide to get smart.”

“That way, you can put your hands all over me,” Tahpenes replied, distaste in her voice.

“If I feel like it,” Ulric said. “What makes you think you’ve got anything I’d want to grope? And as long as you’re alive and we don’t peel you out of your trousers here and now, what makes you think you’ve got any business complaining?”

Tahpenes answered the first question with a dirty look, the second with what was probably intended for a dignified silence. Ulric helped her climb up onto his horse. That did interest her. “These are strange animals, your riding deer with no antlers,” she said as he got up behind her.

“We like ’em,” Ulric answered. He nodded to Hamnet. “Keep an eye on her. Just because she doesn’t know what a horse is, that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t do her damnedest to steal one.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.” Like the adventurer, Hamnet Thyssen used the Bizogots’ tongue. They wanted Tahpenes to know they were alert.

She didn’t try anything as they rode back to the stone huts the Leaping Lynxes had built. When she realized where they were going, one of her strong, dark eyebrows rose. “What are you doing here?” she said. “This is where our wizards were meeting.”

“ Were is right,” Hamnet told her. “I don’t think any of them got away.”

“Sure hope not, anyhow,” Ulric Skakki put in.

Tahpenes turned around to stare at him. She looked away in a hurry when he blew her a kiss from close range. “This is not possible. You are not of the Rulers. You are of the herd, to be ruled as we think best. How could you beat our wizards?”

“Wasn’t too hard,” Count Hamnet answered. “And here’s a lesson for you: if something happens, it isn’t impossible. You should remember that.”

“How dare you mock me?” Tahpenes demanded.

“We enjoy mocking silly ideas. It makes us laugh,” Ulric answered.

“You are not afraid.” By the way Tahpenes said it, she might have accused them of cheating at dice. She was at least as arrogant as the men of her people. Why am I not surprised? Hamnet thought wryly. Tahpenes went on, “Folk of the herd should be afraid. Something is wrong, something is perverse, if you are not.”

“Get used to it, sweetheart,” Ulric Skakki said cheerfully. “You’ve beaten us more than we’ve beaten you, sure, but we’ve won often enough so we know we can. Ask your wizards if you don’t believe me-if you can find any of them alive to ask, I mean.”

“But you cannot beat our wizards.” Tahpenes might have been stating a law of nature. She doubtless thought she was. Well, too bad for her.

She suddenly let out an indignant squeak. Hamnet Thyssen didn’t see exactly what Ulric had done to her, but it was something that damaged her dignity. The adventurer said, “That’s to remind you not to talk nonsense. You see we did, so why do you say we can’t?”

Tahpenes didn’t answer. She was one sadly confused Ruler. Count Hamnet almost didn’t blame her. If not for Marcovefa, the wizardry from her folk would have dominated anything the shamans and sorcerers from south of the Gap could do against it.

A Bizogot spotted the two horses coming back to the stone huts. He rode toward them. “Who’ve you got there?” he called.

“A captive.” Hamnet stated the obvious.

“It’s a woman!” The Bizogot was full of clever observations. “Did you bring her in for the sport of it?”

“No, for questioning,” Ulric answered. “If she lies to us, then we can have fun with her. But if she tells the truth, she’s worth more for that.”

“Says you,” the mammoth-herder exclaimed. “I sure don’t think so.”

“Well, if you want to fight me, we can do that,” Ulric said easily. “Just let me know what you want me to do with your body once you’re dead.”

That took longer to sink in than Hamnet thought it should have. This Bizogot plainly wasn’t overburdened with brains. And if he had as much pride as a lot of his comrades, he would fight Ulric on general principles. For a moment, Count Hamnet thought he would do just that-in which case, he would have died, and in short order, too.

Instead of charging, though, he jerked his horse’s head around and rode away. Hamnet didn’t reckon him a coward; few Bizogots were. But he must have heard the anticipation in Ulric Skakki’s voice. Ulric didn’t just know he could kill; he looked forward to it. And that was plenty to put the Bizogot’s wind up.

It made Tahpenes thoughtful, too. “You act more like a man of the Rulers than one from the herd,” she remarked.

A moment later, she let out another shrill, irate squeal. “Tell you what-you don’t insult me, and I won’t feel you up,” Ulric said. “Deal?”

Tahpenes was silent for some little while. At last, she said, “I did not think I was insulting you. I meant it for praise.”

“I know,” the adventurer said. “That’s part of what’s wrong with you. You need to understand that your new neighbors don’t love you. We don’t admire you. We don’t want to be like you. And we’re strong enough to make what we want matter. If we weren’t, would we have caught you?”