Sharon Green - The Warrior Rearmed

He stared down at me with no expression on his handsome face, but through my shield and his I had the distinct impression that his thoughts were a blur. His hands left my arms to brush the ends of my hair free of my face, then he sat himself beside me in the grass again.

“Well, I guess I asked for it,” he muttered, running a hand through the blond hair that was slowly growing toward the length that Rimilian men wore it at. “Terry, I’d lie to you if I could, but I haven’t the strength to hold this shield up much longer. The truth is—I don’t know. I know I was there when Murdock McKenzie refused to give back whatever price Tammad paid for you, but you’ve been involved in this a lot longer than I have. Do you think they’d give up all claims on a Prime just for—whatever Tammad paid?”

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head automatically as I sat up in the grass. “I don’t even know what it was that he paid. All I know is that he said they abandoned me—and then closed me in these chains to prove the point.”

I looked down at the bronze bands on my wrists and ankles, feeling the one around my neck even if I couldn’t see it, knowing they were all beyond a woman’s strength to open. The light, small-linked chains marked me as Tammad’s property, his beyond argument or offer. I hated being locked in chain; to me it was a measure of things on that world that being five-banded was the highest distinction a woman could achieve.

“So that’s why you went so wild when he banded you,” Len said, staring at me soberly. “I wasn’t that far away when it happened, but I thought you were just being difficult again. Terry, can’t you understand that it’s necessary for a woman to be banded on this world? Did Tammad say he was banding you to prove possession, or is that just your own idea?”

“Oh, I just snatched the thought out of the blue,” I answered, staring back at him. “The fact that all women on this world are possessions didn’t count in the least. Neither did the coincidence that he did it right after I told him again that I refused to obey him or stay with him. Whenever I insist that I’m leaving this world he pretends he doesn’t hear me—except for last night, when he trotted the chains out. You must be right, Len. It’s all my imagination.”

“You’re still ignoring the necessity for banding,” Len answered, surprising me by not reacting to my sarcasm. “Women who aren’t banded are up for grabs in this society; Tammad’s just making sure no one grabs without knowing what he’s getting into. Don’t you care that he’s willing to fight to keep you?”

“Why would I care?” I asked with brows raised high. “It isn’t as if he could die trying to keep me, or that whoever killed him would then be entitled to claim complete possession of me. It isn’t even as if he has one fight already lined up, and wanted to announce his answer to the challenge by five-banding me. These chains are just cultural decorations, best ignored if not forgotten about entirely. Right, Len?”

“Terry, do you really think you’re going to change anything by fighting it?” he asked, compassion joining the calm in his voice and eyes. “Everyone on this planet must know how you feel about being a possession, but Tammad also knows how you really feel about him and he won’t let you go. He doesn’t mind risking his life fighting for you, and the best thing you can do is accept the risk the way he does.”

“Accept it?” I exploded, furious that he’d even suggest such a thing. “Accept the fact that he’d be dead and I’d belong to someone else’? If he died I wouldn’t care what happened to me; do you think I could live knowing he was dead because of me? No matter how happy he was to take the risk? You’d better know I won’t stand for it, Len. Do you hear me? I won’t stand for it!”

I’d exploded so far out of control again, I didn’t realize what was happening until it was almost too late to stop it. My shield had thinned further and further until it was totally gone, and all the fury and rage and frustration I felt came pouring out of my mind at Len, covering his shield and bearing down hard. His handsome face twisted as though he’d been stabbed with a knife and his right hand went up in a feeble gesture, as though my mental onslaught could be stopped by physical means. His mind resisted mine for no more than seconds, and then he collapsed back on the ground at the same time that his shield gave way. But his shield fell inward rather than fading, and the oddity of that caught my attention enough so that I suddenly realized what I was doing. I cut the projection an instant before it touched him, then discovered that I was trembling all over, the infamous cold sweat covering me in a way I’d always considered to be pure fiction. Close calls were supposed to bring on that sort of reaction, along with the pale face and closed eyes that had settled on Len. I took a shaky breath and put a weakened hand to my head, wondering if I looked as bad as he did.

“Len, I’m sorry,” I said after I’d wet my lips with a dry tongue. “I didn’t mean to—whatever it was I did. Are you all right?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as my heart starts beating again,” he gasped, opening his eyes to struggle back to an upright position. Once he was sitting again he ran both hands through his hair, then looked at me bleakly. “Do you have any idea what that felt and looked like from my end? I don’t believe I’m still in one piece.”

“I think I’m afraid to ask,” I mumbled, paying a lot of attention to the pond and the bushes and grass around it. My abilities were growing on Rimilia, but not in a nice, slow, acceptable fashion. Anger and fear seemed to trigger that growth, leaving me to find myself doing things I’d never even considered doing—or thought that I could do—before it happened. Coping with the abilities was turning out to be easier than coping with the surprises; deciding whether or not I was pleased to have all of it was another matter entirely.

“It was like a—a giant, rushing storm,” Len said, and a corner of the fear he’d felt showed briefly in his eyes. “The lightning had substance and the thunder had weight, and I knew that if it touched me I’d be crushed and shattered, both at the same time. Terry, I don’t know what you’re feeling because you’re shielded again, but if that’s what’s behind the shield, you’d better get it resolved fast, with or without help. The next time you might not be able to pull back.”

“Speaking of shields, let’s discuss yours,” I said, ignoring everything else he’d said. If I’d tried thinking about any of it, especially the not being able to stop part, I’d have gotten a lot more practice in hysteria.

“What about my shield?” Len asked, not really distracted. “I know it isn’t as strong as yours, but it’s better than anything I thought I’d have. I never even considered a shield until I saw yours.

“That’s at least half our problem,” I grumbled, feeling an uncomfortable mixture of anger and frustration and disquiet. “We’re conditioned into thinking about our abilities only when we’re Mediating, and not much even then. Every time I find myself doing something new, it’s a shock.”

“It wouldn’t be as much of a shock if we also weren’t conditioned against experimenting,” Len agreed, getting to his feet to move the three steps necessary to get to the pond’s edge. “How can we know what we’re capable of if we don’t experiment?”

I watched him crouch down and put his hands in the water, then raise them dripping to his face, where he held them for a long minute without moving. It was on its way to being a hot, sticky day, but that wasn’t why Len had needed the water. I knew why he needed it, but the guilt I’d been feeling was crowded out by outraged indignation.