"Yes," I said again, this time looking away from those serious blue eyes. "But you can stop feeling sorry for me. I expected nothing else when I left the Inadni, so I wasn't surprised. Was there anything else of vast importance that you wanted, or can I go back to my tent now?"

"So you use insolence and arrogance to keep people from reaching too close to you," he said, a calculating tone to the words. "You won't accept having someone feel sorry for you no matter what you've got to go through, not even if it's friendly concern rather than pity. Hasn't anyone ever told you how dangerous a defense reaction that is? If I didn't have the self control that I do, you'd already have gotten more than one good beating from me."

"Possibly if you used your Power," I said, turning my head to meet his level blue gaze and letting amus.e.m.e.nt color the words. "Without the Power you'd need those guardsmen you have stationed outside, and they'd have to be really good. If I didn't have the use of my skills they wouldn't have to be all that good - but you'd still need them."

"I can see you also enjoy insulting people on purpose," he growled, straightening a little where he sat in reaction to what I'd said. "If I ever decide to give you a good beating, I won't need the Power or those guardsmen. If you don't believe that, just keep pushing me."

He paused then, possibly to give me a chance to enjoy myself a little more, but I really was too tired. I could have defended myself if I'd had to, but it would be a good deal easier once I had more rest and food to add to my strength. Rather than saying anything I simply continued to hold his gaze, but that didn't do much to lighten his mood.

"Under certain circ.u.mstances, even the G.o.ds have more patience than men," I was told with the same growl, dark blue eyes glinting at me. "I think you'll have the opportunity to learn that.

A few days from now, when all our preparations are complete, you'll be taken back to that city where you were held as a slave. You'll guide our people to the places they have to be, and then you'll see to the individual tasks I a.s.sign you. When you enter the city you'll be dressed and collared as a slave, so be prepared to also act like one."

"You expect me to accept being enslaved again?" I asked with a laugh that had absolutely no amus.e.m.e.nt in it, abruptly sitting up straighter. "If you do, you're in for a great disappointment.

Now that I'm free again, I intend to stay that way."

"You'll only be pretending to be a slave," he answered with continuing annoyance, gesturing aside my refusal. "If you enter that city as a free woman, you run the risk of having someone recognize you as a runaway slave. If you're still ostensibly a slave, Prince Garam can always say he found you in the forest and is trying to return you to where you belong."

"Garam!" I said with more incredulity than I had earlier, wondering if the man of Power was losing his grip on reality. "Even if I did agree to pretend to being a slave, I'll be d.a.m.ned if I'd do it with him holding the chain. After the way he's been talking to me, I've already promised myself his blood. If you need a slave act all that badly, you can find someone else to take Garam's place."

"All right, girl, I can see it's time you were told exactly how things stand," Fearin said, abruptly back in complete calm control of himself. "You may be dedicated to Bellid and the possessor ofmore skills than any of us completely understands, but you, just like the rest of us, are subject to the commands of Diin-tha. The G.o.d said you're to pretend to be a slave, and Prince Garam, because of our need to have him in the city, will be the one you pretend to be a slave with. He would be the one even if we didn't need him in the city; he won't have any trouble treating you like a slave, whereas Prince Talasin and Ranander would. If you try to refuse this command, you'll find a good deal more than the beating you would have had from me. Do I need to go into details?"

Once again I didn't answer him in words, but my silence was answer enough. Even those who had no truck with the G.o.ds knew what it could mean to face their wrath; I, who knew better than most and not simply through personal experience, also knew that a quiet, final ending would not be what I faced. Had it been, I would have gotten to my feet and happily left the tent and the camp as well.

"Prince Garam will be under strict orders not to cause you any harm," Fearin said after a pair of moments, and I realized I was no longer looking at him. "Above that our attack won't be long in coming after you've entered the city, so you shouldn't have to wear the collar beyond the length of a single day. And just remember: once the city is ours, you'll be free to ... go looking for anyone there you feel you'd really like to see again."

"Except in certain specific cases, I'm not allowed to take revenge," I said, still staring at the place that had been the center of the circle. "No one in the city meets those requirements, so it's a waste of time wishing they did. Was there anything else?"

"No," he said, this time sounding definitely weary. "No, right now there's nothing else. I'll tell you what else I need you to do just before you leave for the city. Go back to your tent and sleep well."

Since there was nothing else to say, I simply got to my feet and left. I spent the short walk back to my tent realizing all over again just how much I hated to be pitied.

Chapter 4.

It wasn't a very pretty mid morning as we rode through the forest, but the threat of rain didn't bother anyone in the party. The others were undoubtedly thinking about the city we rode toward, but certainly not in the same way I was thinking about it. This was only the fourth day since I'd escaped from the place, and to say I was reluctant about going back, even in pretend slavery, was like saying the world contained many unexplained mysteries. The words were true, but didn't tell the story by half.

The previous three days had seen quite a lot in the way of military preparation, with a bustle that gave me the feeling everyone was running in a different direction all the time at top speed.

Talasin, Lokkel, and Garam spent most of their time with the troops of guardsmen who were spread out thicker through the forest than I'd first believed. Fearin divided his time between the troops, the men leading them, and setting the air atingle from inside his tent, and Ranander was either with Fearin or carrying messages for the High Master.

I was the only one who hadn't chased hither and yon with grim purpose, but that didn't mean I hadn't been given orders by Fearin. I was ordered to sleep and eat as much as I possibly could, which took away something of the pleasure I should have felt over doing just that.

The ground rose under our horses hooves as we angled away from the stream, and a small covey of birds began to scold at us from the surrounding trees. Aside from the creak of leather and the soft breathing of men and mounts, the birds and the hoofbeats were the only exceptions to the silence all around. In an innocent, unknowing way it was almost peaceful, just like the last few days had been peaceful - almost.

"Things are too hectic right now, Aelana, but just you wait," Ranander had told me once, taking time out from his busy schedule to rea.s.sure me. "As soon as that city falls to us, youand I will have the time to get to know each other a little better. And I'm really curious to know what Shadowborn means."

He'd flashed me a grin and then he'd hurried off, happily continuing on with Fearin's errands.

I'd found myself standing there shaking my head, wondering at the same time if I'd finally found a real, live, beneficial use for the horror, fear, and revulsion that was the truth about Shadowborn. For some reason beyond my comprehension Ranander had decided to sleep with me, and the only things that had kept him from carrying out his decision - or at least trying to carry it out - was at first my weakened condition and then the preparations for war. Since I didn't want to have to hurt that strangely innocent boy-man, I was actually relieved that the details of what I was would send him hurrying out of my life.

Details which would be forthcoming from Fearin, as soon as the High Master had the time to pa.s.s them on. The afternoon before I'd been invited to the man's tent, to be offered wine and told what I'd need to do the following day.

"No, I haven't discussed your abilities with any of the others yet," he'd said when I put the question a bit impatiently, gesturing for me to sit on his golden floor weaving and help myself to a cup of wine. He seemed to be ignoring my unhappiness with him, not knowing or not caring how hard it was waiting for the grand announcement to be made.

"Why haven't you told them?" I'd demanded, sitting down but doing nothing about taking wine.

"Don't you think they have a right to know what they're sharing a camp with? Will you be happier if one of them finds out the hard way?"

"First I have to find out what we're sharing a camp with," he'd returned as he'd leaned one elbow down to a cushion, the words definitely on the arid side. "Since the only one who knows for certain refuses to part with more than hints and innuendoes, I've begun to research the matter in my own way. By the time this skirmish is over I should know something definite to pa.s.s on, which I will then do. Until that time, I don't think any of us has to worry about accidents. Our Guardian is the sort to antic.i.p.ate and prevent any unnecessary ...

complications."

"Complications," I'd echoed in a dissatisfied mutter, not caring much for the way he dismissed what could turn out to be a real problem. "And isn't 'skirmish' a rather lighthearted description for the taking of a city? Your force won't be the first to try getting through and over those walls. What makes you think they'll have any better luck than those who came before them?"

"Those who came before my troops didn't have me to help," he'd answered with what had seemed more like amus.e.m.e.nt than boasting, then he paused to sip his wine before continuing.

"You'll be surprised to see what a little Power can do in the way of aiding a campaign. Or, possibly, I should say you won't be seeing it, since you'll be occupied with another task during our attack. Why don't you take some wine and then we can get down to details."

"Let's start with a detail about wine," I'd said, finally seeing that I would have to explain why I kept refusing his hospitality in so rude a way. "I can drink a very small amount of wine without worrying, but if I tried to swill it the way the rest of you do your ... Guardian would have to be here in person to stop what would probably happen. One of the first things the Inadni teach is a ... reaching out, an intensification of everything you see, hear, feel - in any and every way experience. A whisper is like a shout, a glimmer is like a blaze - and a cup of wine is like a keg.

I can handle the cup, but after that things start to get fuzzy and uncontrollable."

"Uncontrollable," he'd repeated the way I had, a peculiar expression crossing his face briefly before he had it in hand again. "I see. Or at least I'm beginning to get a glimmer. If you say you don't want something, it's best to ask before insisting, just in case you have a reason other than stubbornness for refusing. I'll be sure to remember that."

He'd examined me briefly with a stare then, possibly waiting to see if I had anything to add; when he was sure I didn't, he'd nodded and continued.

"As I said, it's time you knew the details of what will be happening tomorrow. A group of our people will enter or have already entered the city, and there are certain places they have to be.Some of those places, like the guardsmen's barracks and the wing of the palace housing the city Administrators, aren't hard to find so the men a.s.signed to those places will manage on their own. If they have to ask directions they can do it openly, and no one will get suspicious.

Other places, however, won't be the same, and those are the places you'll be guiding them to."

"If too many of those places are in the better part of the city, you might have to find yourself another guide," I'd said. "I was a slave, remember, and not the kind who's allowed to wander as she likes. From time to time I was put to work in the city and those locations I remember how to reach, but for places I've never been... "

I'd shrugged to show him there was nothing I could do to make the truth sweeter, but he'd waved a hand in unconcern.

"The places we're most interested in are maintained with slave labor, so that shouldn't be a problem," he'd said, unperturbed by the suggestion that I might not be as useful as he'd expected. "Ranander has the complete list, and as soon as he gets here with it we'll all go over it together. Right now we need to discuss how you'll guide a group of men to different places without someone getting suspicious."

He'd paused to swallow his wine again, and it's possible I wasn't supposed to notice that he was also studying me again. For that reason alone I'd kept my expression the way it had been, but inside I'd been more than annoyed. So it was Ranander who had the list of places I was supposed to guide people to, and for that reason alone Ranander would be here when Fearin asked if I knew how to get to those places. Ranander, who knew when people were telling the truth - and when they were lying.

Remembering that almost made me hiss my breath out in vexation, and that despite the relative peace and quiet we rode through. It had been fairly clear that Fearin didn't want to spend time wondering if I really didn't know how to get to the places I would claim as unfamiliar, or if I was actually trying to prove my pretending to be a slave would be a waste of time. The fact that I'd already thought of that very same point made it all doubly annoying, but there hadn't been anything I could do to take advantage of the idea. Insisting that Ranander not be there would have been tantamount to announcing that I intended being as truthful as a southern caravan merchant.

"Prince Garam and I developed the plan together, and now it's up to you to find fault with it if you can," Fearin had continued after his pause. "Having a slave guide a group of free men would be unusual enough, but having that same slave guide men who aren't supposed to know each other would be bound to make a city spy follow along to see what was going on. You do know that the city uses paid spies to keep an eye on its people and find out what they're up to."

"Everyone in the city knows that," I'd answered his half-question, making a face over the situation. "Those of us who were slaves found it really funny, to think that all those n.o.bly wonderful free people were being watched as closely and as carefully as those free people watched us. The only difference between us seemed to be that we were in cages and they weren't."

"I understand there were numerous times when that distinction abruptly didn't apply," Fearin said with a sound of derision, shifting on his elbow cushion. "If those spies find anyone doing what they shouldn't be doing, the city usually ends up with more gold in its treasury because of a fine, or the ownership of another slave because of the gravity of the crime. One of the few things they don't bother people about is how they treat privately-owned slaves, and there's an excellent reason for that. If people spend their anger on abusing their own property, they're less likely to notice how unhappy they are and then turn on the city and its officials."

"Why do I have the feeling that what you just said is more significant than a.n.a.lytical?" I wondered aloud, keeping my eyes on him while I slowly straightened where I sat. "And why don't I like it even one little bit?"

"We never expected you to like it, so that part of it is no surprise," Fearin said, this time trying to keep from showing his amus.e.m.e.nt. "I do find myself delighted, however, at how quickly youjump to the heart of a matter. Since one of the few things no one will pay attention to is the disciplining of a slave, that's the signal you and Prince Garam will use to let the others know when a particular location has been reached. You won't be telling them anything, only showing them something no one else will understand the significance of."

"You've decided that Garam and I will take turns beating each other?" I said as if I really believed that was what he'd meant and was therefore considering the idea. "Don't you think people will wonder every time it gets to be my turn? After all, you said we'd be using that signal, so - "

"So you thought you'd pester me with nonsense to show how well you like the idea and my choice of words," he interrupted, not nearly as annoyed as I'd expected him to be. "You're waiting for me to say that slaves don't do the disciplining, they just find themselves on the receiving end of it, and then you'll announce that you won't be allowing that. Let's save ourselves some time and effort and consider all that already said."

"You're taking all the fun out of it," I commented as I narrowed my eyes at him, knowing he was up to something but not knowing what. "If you don't try to talk me out of my refusal, how can I tell you the various things I'd like to suggest you do with yourself?"

"I'm glad to see you're feeling stronger than you were the last time we talked," he commented back, no more than a faint glitter showing in the blue of his eyes. "You're now willing to take the chance of getting me angry, but there's really no need for that. Prince Garam will only be pretending to discipline you, just as you'll be pretending to be a slave, and all you two will have to do is make sure it looks real even though it won't be."

"And I'm supposed to believe that?" I asked with a laugh that was, to a large extent, real amus.e.m.e.nt. "You tell me Garam will be gentle as a loving mother, and I'm supposed to be backward enough to believe it? As soon as I stop laughing I think I'm going to feel really insulted."

"Aelana, Prince Garam can't do you any true harm," Fearin said in exasperation, straightening off the cushion in an effort to put strength behind his words. "There are five major locations and three minor ones that he and his men have to be guided to, and then you have a job of your own to see to, an important job you'll be attending to by yourself. If Prince Garam does something to keep you from being able to see to all that, don't you think our Guardian will find out and ... remonstrate with him?"

He hung the demanding question in the air in front of me, giving me the chance to examine it and then put forth reasonable objections. He didn't believe I would find any reasonable objections, of course, and in that he had an excellent point. As frightened as Garam was of the G.o.d Diin-tha, I couldn't quite see the fighter doing something that would be guaranteed to anger the G.o.d. It was a very strong argument in favor of believing, but I couldn't quite bring myself to accept the matter as being as simple as that.

"If Garam isn't right now looking for a way around that restriction, it's only because he's already found one," I'd answered sourly at last, letting my gaze lock to Fearin's. "The only thing I can say in answer is to give you my solemn word on something, and then let you decide whether or not the plan gets changed. If Garam hurts me I will take his life, even if that taking ruins your chances to win the city. If you're willing to go ahead with the plan on that basis, whatever happens can't be blamed on things having been hidden from you. Do you understand and agree?"

"What I understand is that you're much too young to be that untrusting, not to mention unemotionally bloodthirsty," he'd said, his frown as disturbed as it had been the last time we'd talked. "Have you any idea what the G.o.d would do to someone who deliberately ruined his plans? Even if he wasn't watching closely enough to disallow it in the first place?"

"All a mortal can do is try," I'd answered before leaning down to an elbow cushion of my own, deliberately ignoring the first part of his question. "If the try doesn't get you anywhere, you concentrate on staying alive so you can try a second time. And a third, and a fourth. And if myatt.i.tudes come as a surprise to you, that only shows you haven't known many people who were once slaves. Slavery tends to color your att.i.tudes in a very permanent way."

"If you don't think I know this goes beyond slavery, then it's my turn to be insulted," he'd said with a snort, but still leaned down to his cushion again. "Once we have this city business settled and behind us, you and I are going to spend some time talking. It's essential that I know what moves my people, and if necessary I'll ask the G.o.d's help. Think about what you'll be saying in answer to my questions, but don't waste time trying to think of a way to refuse answering. One way or another you'll be telling me everything I want to know."

His dark blue eyes had been hard with immovable decision, all but challenging me to start a real argument by disagreeing. If I hadn't been so impatient to be out of his tent I would have done just that, but there was no real need to get into it then and there. Time enough to tell him to mind his own business if the time ever came when he actually tried to ask his questions.

"All right, let's get back to our original topic, and this time finish the discussion," he'd said after a moment, his att.i.tude having turned somewhat more brisk. "You and Prince Garam will spend a bit of time practicing tonight, to be sure your performances will be convincing, and the arrangement will work this way: whenever you reach a location on the list, you'll either make a strenuous effort to escape, or you'll try a half-hearted attack on the prince. Either attempt will cause him to discipline you, and then the two of you will continue on to the next location. The men a.s.signed to the various locations will drop off in the proper places, and after the last place has been pa.s.sed you and the prince will part company to see to your individual tasks."

"You mean he won't have to be guided to his own destination?" I'd asked, still not the least bit happy with the arrangements they'd made. "What a pity. He'll have to give up on his last chance to ... discipline me."

"Aelana, I've already given you my word that he won't harm you," he'd come back with a sigh, half weariness, half impatience. "I've also told you why he won't harm you, and you've given your word to me on what will happen if he harms you anyway. What more do you need to soothe away that sharp edge that's keeping you from settling down to work?"

"Another plan," I'd said succinctly, but Fearin had ignored that as nothing more than the final effort before surrender that it was. I'd had no choice at all about going along with them, and that was what undoubtedly bothered me most about their arrangements.

Somewhat earlier one of our group had ridden ahead and left us, and now two more men did the same. Those were three of the men we would meet/not meet when we got to the city, three among more than a dozen who had already joined the usual, steady stream of new arrivals to the city. The city, called Faerza by strangers, Lett.i.tu-Suam by those who were citizens, was large enough to attract a great number of men - and women - who were eager to make their fortunes amid the protection of her stone walls. Most of them ended up losing the few coppers or solitary silver coin they'd intended using as a stake, some ended up enslaved before they could run, one or two occasionally found the fortune they'd dreamed of. Faerza was hard on innocent new arrivals, but her citizens made sure never to mention that aloud.

"A bit closer, I think," Garam said to the guardsman riding beside him, one of those who were there to escort the rest of us and who would then go back to camp. The man nodded as we continued on, and neither he nor Garam looked back to see if everyone was following.

It hadn't been long, the previous day, before Ranander had shown up with his list of places in the city. The three of us went over the list together, and it turned out there was only one minor location I didn't know how to reach. Fearin came up with an alternate that I did know, the subst.i.tution was made, and then the stops were arranged so that we could take them in their turn rather than tramp back and forth all over the city. The man of Power had had me memorize the list in its proper order, and then Ranander had taken the list away to show it to those who would need to know what was going on.

Shortly after that Garam had arrived, impatient to get the practicing over and done with so he could go back to important work. His brown eyes had barely acknowledged my presence, hissandy-haired head held high as he'd accepted a cup of wine from Fearin, but I'd sat there on the floor weaving without being bothered at all. Under the laws of the Inadni, Garam had already established himself as someone who might be dealt with without hesitation; as soon as the proper time came I would see that it happened.

The practice session was not at all difficult for Garam, but the same couldn't be said about my part. Once we got through the gates Garam would push me ahead of him, to "keep a better eye on me in the bustling crowds," and I would have to pretend to be choosing directions at random.

Garam would be strolling along behind me just seeing the sights, and every once in a while would have the bother of keeping me from escaping or turning and attacking him. At those times he would supposedly hit me, backhanded or straight on, and then I would have to recoil from the blow before it actually landed.

If I was fast enough to do it. If at any time I wasn't fast enough, I would pay for the lack by really getting hit.

"Which might have to happen anyway, if one of the city spies takes too close an interest in what you're doing," Fearin had fretted, giving Garam a brooding look with quite a lot of frustration in it. "If one of the spies sees a slave getting hit without any bruises or blood to show for the effort there could be trouble. You might swing at a slave and miss once, but the same thing happening three or more times in a row would make a stone wall suspicious."

"If I see anyone watching too closely I'll just have to soothe their suspicions," Garam had answered with bland satisfaction, a faint smile on his broad face. "It would never do to give ourselves away when the problem can be so easily avoided."

"There's no doubt our Guardian would want it exactly that way, Prince Garam," Fearin had returned, a sudden matching blandness in his att.i.tude. "I have, however, been given certain very strict instructions regarding this former slave, and once the city is ours we'll be questioned about how well we complied with those instructions. Your answers will be listened to by our Guardian himself, Prince, and for your sake they had better be absolutely truthful. I believe you know what will happen if he discovers they aren't."

The smile had disappeared from Garam's face then, and a faint pallor had seemed ready to replace the expression entirely. The fighter had apparently known exactly what Fearin referred to, but nothing in the way of words had come out of him. Garam and I had gone back to practicing after that, and the subject hadn't come up again.

Darkness had already fallen by the time we decided we had our routine down well enough to go with, and then Garam had simply taken himself back to the rest of the preparations for the next day. After Fearin's warning Garam had taken more care in how close he came to really hitting me, and once he was gone the High Master had seemed to be in better spirits. He'd created a meal for the two of us, had insisted we discuss nothing but inconsequentials while we ate, and only after the meal was over had he gone into the details of the task that was mine after I had finished guiding men around the city...

"All right, this should be close enough," Garam announced from the front of our group, reining in his mount as he looked around. "If we go much farther we'll begin to run out of forest."

The head guardsman beside him nodded a casual acknowledgment of the order, and the entire group came to a halt. I'd had opportunity to notice over the last few days that the guardsmen tended to obey Garam, but not with what might be described as enthusiasm. The fighter was good at planning, very good and very clever, but when it came to getting men to follow those plans Garam couldn't do it. That part of the job belonged to Talasin, and once I'd seen the way the guardsmen cheered his tritest speech then jumped to volunteer for the most hazardous duty, I no longer had to wonder what the second fighter's talent was.

"Tell Fearin the slave and I will reach the city well before dark," Garam said to the head guardsman as he handed over his reins before dismounting. "If we aren't all in place by the second bell of the night watch, it's only because we're dead. And we won't be dead, not with tomorrow's victory celebration to look forward to."Some of the guardsmen around us chuckled, but not the way they would have if it had been Talasin making the comment. I did my own dismounting while Garam took his pack from the horse he'd been riding, and then we two stood watching as the guardsmen turned around and went back the way we'd come. Once they were well out of earshot, the fighter stepped up closer to me.

"Put your arms behind you, slave," he said in his usual, arrogant way, once again sounding faintly impatient. "Since the others can't do anything until we get there, I won't have you wasting any time. If one or more of my men get hauled in for fining as idlers, I'll make sure the Guardian knows it was your fault."

The threat he used was doubly interesting, doubly in that he wasn't promising to do anything to me himself, and he didn't go into any details about what the G.o.d would do in his stead. He seemed to think I already knew what would be done and considered that enough to make me jump the way he would jump. In a way I did have some idea as to what could be done, but I wasn't about to react to it the way he did. Without moving terribly fast I put my arms behind me, and the gesture wasn't lost on Garam.

"I've heard that you defy men and G.o.ds alike, you Kenossi," he growled, the first indication I'd had that he knew something about my origins. "I've always been of the opinion that the reason you make such useless slaves is that none of you have ever belonged to men who really know how to manage slaves. Possibly the opportunity will soon arise where I can prove the argument."

His hands closed the iron cuffs around my wrists with a double click then, and it took quite a bit of self control not to give him the satisfaction of seeing me pull at the shackles. He'd said what he had in an effort to get me mad, I knew, but not for the simple sake of baiting the slave.

Part of the agreement Fearin had insisted on said that if at any time during our pretend conflict I attacked Garam with the intention of doing him real harm, Garam was then free to do to me the equivalent of whatever I'd managed to do to him. The fighter wanted an excuse to hurt me, and was therefore going about laying the groundwork that would make the episode no one's fault but mine.

"With only a single link between these cuffs, you won't have much freedom of movement,"

Garam remarked as he made sure the things were locked tight before coming around to stand in front of me. "I certainly hope you won't have trouble dodging your punishment because of them."

The grin he showed at the thought was one of eager antic.i.p.ation of exactly the opposite, but he didn't waste any time pushing at the point. Instead he took the slave collar Fearin had supplied and closed it around my throat, then examined me critically while adjusting the long length of braided leather tied to the collar's lead-ring.

"Now you're looking more the way your sort should," he said, his eyelids drooping in lazy satisfaction as he smiled. "I'm even enjoying seeing you in that rag Fearin supplied with the rest. You may be an ugly b.i.t.c.h, but your body's starting to look not bad at all."

Very casually and with no hesitation his hand went to the ragged tear down the front of the faded green slave rag I wore, and a heartbeat later the hand was inside the tear and holding my flesh. My own hands curled to fists beneath the cuffs prisoning my wrists and my mind cursed silently at the softened roundness just beginning to return to my body, but even those reactions were carefully kept where Garam couldn't see them. I endured his groping fondle for a moment long enough to show my extreme disinterest, and then I shook my head.

"If you try to mark down this waste of time as being my fault I'll laugh in your face," I told him in the sort of cold and deadly voice one was supposed to use to a blood enemy. "I thought only very young boys engaged in this kind of nonsense. Grown men are supposed to have more of a sense of duty."

His sun-darkened skin flushed enough for me to notice, but he didn't s.n.a.t.c.h his hand back like the boy I'd accused him of being. His dark eyes smoldered with the teeth-gritting wish that hemight hurt me, but something - like the memory of Fearin's threat - kept him from doing it. He let his damp palm move over my breast another time or three, and then he withdrew his hand as slowly and deliberately as he'd slid it in.

"Once we've achieved the final victory and the G.o.d has no more use for you, that's when you'll find yourself really belonging to me," the fighter growled, unwavering decision hardening his features. "You think you know what slavery is like, but you won't really know until that time arrives. You can take that as a blood-oath, girl, because that's exactly what it is."

He wrapped the braided leather around his left fist while he continued to stare at me, and then he turned and started off through the woods in the direction of the road. His yank on the leather jerked me after him, but not in the sort of frightened state of mind he would have preferred. His blood-oath pleased me rather than filled me with fear, primarily because I had already sworn a blood-oath of my own. When all that fighting and nonsense was over then he and I would see whose oath was upheld, but right now we had a "pretense" to take care of...