Sharon Green: To Battle The Gods

“For what reason do you look toward others of my set?” I asked, seeing the male before me also appear confused, seemingly at the amusement of the three Sigurri. “Should you feel that those others would be bested more easily than I, allow me to assure you that you are mistaken. Although they are male, they are warriors as well, and easily able to best any who stand before them. You gain naught by seeking to face them rather than this warrior.”

“You believe I would face a female?” demanded the male, outrage so thick upon him as he glared at me that those who had chuckled earlier now did so again. “Even were there sufficient females about so that all men might have their own, still would I refuse to face one over a sword! You and your wenches are arrogant and insolent and greatly in need of firm punishment, girl, yet to be sworded is not to be punished. And even were it so, I would not slay the one my woman has such great regard for; such a thing would sit ill between us.”

Still did the male glare upon me with anger, now firmed to decision. Within me I felt the surge of anger which ever came at the belief of males that Jalav would fall before them, yet was the anger this time smothered beneath the ache of another thing.

“You are one of those who hold a Hosta?” I asked, also finding myself startled. I had not thought any save hunters and some few warriors had taken the Hosta, none of those of the metal-and-leather ilk among them. The male gazed deeply into my eyes at the query, and faintly did a smile touch his lips.

“The wench became mine when the hunter who had brought her to our city gave up all claim to her,” said he, the memory deepening his amusement. “He had attempted to teach her to obey him, had not succeeded, and had grown weary of hearing his lacks recited by the High Seat. As I had no woman of my own I requested and was granted her, and immediately began teaching her the manner in which a man and a wench might live together with peace between them.”

“Aided, no doubt, by a lash,” said I, my words turned bitter at memory of my own time in Ranistard, the pain and shame and thought of captivity without end—and Nolthis, he to whom I had been given after Ceralt had been put out of the city, he who had also been called captain of the High Seat’s guard. My kan danced uneasily as my knees tightened about his barrel; I was so furious that the palm of my hand ached to hold a hilt. So great was my need to face that Nolthis again, that it was nearly as great as my need to free the Hosta. That the Hosta must await my victory over the coming strangers before freedom might once again be theirs was demanded by Mida, and likely this facing of Nolthis would be delayed as well. Once the strangers were seen to, however . . . .

“The lashing you were given by command of the High Seat should not have been, wench,” said the male, no longer amused. “This was spoken of by Galiose himself, his regret clear to those of us he addressed. He. . . .”

“His regret will not be truly clear till he and I have spoken of the matter,” said I, unwilling to hear words of should-not-have-been. There had been full agony for me in my refusal to heed the commands of Galiose, and to speak of that agony as given in error did not remove its memory. I would have his life for the doing or he would have mine, and the knowledge of this was surely in my eyes for the male to see. The swordpoint he had allowed to fall was abruptly before him again, his visage paled somewhat as he backed a step. His lips parted, to speak words of denial of my intent, I think, yet another spoke before him.

“And of what will our converse consist?” asked the voice, strength and calm and ease of command to be heard in it. “Will it be said that the lashing need not have been, had a stubborn she-gando merely retreated a pace or two from that stubbornness? Will such a truth be mentioned, wench?”

Galiose pushed himself through the growing number of males who had gathered and stood before them, others of his metal-and-leather-clad males following behind. Large was the High Seat of Ranistard, dark-eyed and broad with much male strength, his long dark hair bound at the back of his neck in the manner of male warriors of the cities, the blue of his covering and leather marking him as leader to those of his city, the metal upon him and the well-worn hilt of his weapon marking him as one who was no stranger to battle. His hands rested upon his swordbelt as his eyes held mine, and well did I recall that gaze as he took in the black of my eyes and thigh-length hair, the bareness of my breasts, the breech I wore beneath my swordbelt, the dagger in my leg bands about which was wrapped the leather of my life sign, the lack of a leather city-male seat upon the kan I bestrode—though the male looked up he clearly looked down as well, seeing naught save the wench he had named me and truly believed me to be. As I thought of the time I would be free to face him, I felt my hand curl to a fist.

“You speak the truth,” said I to Galiose, aware that those who accompanied me now moved their kand to where mine stood. “It is true that this Midanna refused your commands and was therefore lashed, yet is it also true that I could not have done otherwise. Did I not come to you of my own will, acknowledging you the war leader who held my oath of fealty? Did I not offer you the right of challenge, the sole manner in which a war leader might be made to obey another? As you refused the challenge, you also forfeited all right to command, therefore was there no more than deceit in the lashing. One must pay for deceit, Galiose, in the manner in which you shall pay.”

“Have you never heard of the rights of capture, girl?” said the male, annoyance in his tone, no notice taken of the balance of my words. “You and yours lay in capture to me and mine, therefore obedience was required of you. In the absence of obedience, punishment—a punishment which might easily have been avoided had you not striven so diligently to show how slight was the respect you afforded me.”

“One gives respect to those who do not fear to earn that respect with a sword,” said I, seeing the flash of anger in the dark of his eyes. “To give obedience in captivity is to be a slave, and never shall Jalav be a slave. For what reason have you left the safety of your city’s walls to visit this place? There are things which must soon be done, and the aid of you and yours is not required.”

“The High Seat of Ranistard goes where he wills!” returned Galiose harshly aware of my attempt to provoke him. Mida might well have been angered if I paused to slay the male, yet were he to attack this Midanna, I must respond in kind. “I scarcely had need of further difficulties in these times of ill, yet did those from the farms hereabout call upon me to free their city from they knew not what. Now that I see you, wench, and other wenches upon the walls, surely do I begin to believe— Had you grown so fond of dwelling in a city, more easily might you have remained in mine.”

“Should one be so foolish as to wish to dwell within walls,” said I, seeing the depth of the look he gave me, “best is to find walls of one’s own. There was little difficulty in taking this place, yet may you set your mind to rest. We mean to remain no more than a short while longer, and then will the city be returned to those who dwell within it. You may now take your males and depart.”

“May I indeed,” said Galiose with a growl, advancing another step toward me, his dark eyes bright with anger. “And should it be my wish to see this city returned to its own upon the moment? For how long will those within find it possible to remain, should we disallow hunting parties to emerge? In the two feyd we have already been here, none have come forth to hunt, neither have the farm herds been driven in to market. Should the need arise to do battle, how well will your wenches fare on empty bellies? And what number of them hold that city? As many as half the number of those who follow me? Look around you, girl.”