not
identical. It was only a difference in marking, yet what if that indicated that an oath
sworn on one was particular to that rod? She dared not leave without Therava’s rod. The
Wise One often left it lying in the open in her tent, but you will never pick that up, she
had said.
Oh, Galina could touch that wrist-thick white rod, stroke its smooth surface, yet however
hard she strained, she could not make her hand close on it. Not unless someone handed it
to her. At least, she hoped that would not count as picking the thing up. It had to be so.
Just the thought that it might not be filled her with bleakness. The yearning in her eyes
when she gazed at the rod brought Therava’s rare smiles.
Does my little Lina want to be free of her oath? she would say mockingly. Then Lina
must be a very good pet, because the only way I will consider freeing you is for you to
convince me that you will remain my pet even then.
A lifetime of being Therava’s plaything and the target for her temper? A surrogate to be
beaten whenever Therava raged against Sevanna? Bleakness was not strong enough to
describe her feelings on that. Horror was more like it. She feared she might go mad if that
happened. And equally, she feared there might be no escape into madness.
Mood thoroughly soured, she shaded her eyes to check the height of the sun. Therava had
merely said that she would like her back before dark, and a good two hours of daylight
remained, but she sighed with regret and immediately turned Swift downslope through
the trees toward the camp. The Wise One enjoyed finding ways to enforce obedience
without direct commands. A thousand ways to make her crawl. For safety, the woman’s
slightest suggestion must be taken as a command. Being a few minutes late brought
punishments that made Galina cringe at the memories. Cringe and heel the mare to a
faster pace through the trees. Therava accepted no excuses.
Abruptly an Aielman stepped out in front of her from behind a thick tree, a very tall man
in cadin’sor with his spears thrust through the harness that held his bowcase on his back
and his veil hanging on his chest. Without speaking, he seized her bridle.
For an instant, she gaped at him, then drew herself up indignantly. “Fool!” she snapped.
“You must know me by now. Release my horse, or Sevanna and Therava will take turns
removing your skin!”
These Aiel usually showed little on their faces, yet she thought his green eyes widened
slightly. And then she screamed as he seized the front of her robe in a huge fist and
jerked her from the saddle.
“Be silent, gai’shain,” he said, but as though he cared nothing for whether she obeyed.
At one time she would have had to, but once they realized that she obeyed any order from
anyone, there had been too many who enjoyed sending her on foolish errands that kept
her occupied when Therava or Sevanna wanted her. Now, she need obey only certain
Wise Ones and Sevanna, so she kicked and flailed and screamed in desperate hope of
attracting someone who knew she belonged to Therava. If only she were allowed to carry
a knife. Even that would have been a help. How could this man not recognize her, or at
least know what her jeweled belt and collar meant? The encampment was immense, as
filled with people as many large cities, yet it seemed that everyone could point out
Therava’s pet wetlander. The woman would have this fellow skinned, and Galina meant
to enjoy every minute of watching.
All too quickly it became apparent that a knife would have been no use at all. Despite her
struggles, the brute handled her easily, pulling her cowl down over her head, blinding her,
then stuffing as much of it as he could into her mouth before binding it there. Then he
flipped her face down and bound her wrists and ankles tightly. As easily as if she had
been a child! She still thrashed, but it was wasted effort.
“He wanted some gai’shain that aren’t Aiel, Gaul, but a
identical. It was only a difference in marking, yet what if that indicated that an oath
sworn on one was particular to that rod? She dared not leave without Therava’s rod. The
Wise One often left it lying in the open in her tent, but you will never pick that up, she
had said.
Oh, Galina could touch that wrist-thick white rod, stroke its smooth surface, yet however
hard she strained, she could not make her hand close on it. Not unless someone handed it
to her. At least, she hoped that would not count as picking the thing up. It had to be so.
Just the thought that it might not be filled her with bleakness. The yearning in her eyes
when she gazed at the rod brought Therava’s rare smiles.
Does my little Lina want to be free of her oath? she would say mockingly. Then Lina
must be a very good pet, because the only way I will consider freeing you is for you to
convince me that you will remain my pet even then.
A lifetime of being Therava’s plaything and the target for her temper? A surrogate to be
beaten whenever Therava raged against Sevanna? Bleakness was not strong enough to
describe her feelings on that. Horror was more like it. She feared she might go mad if that
happened. And equally, she feared there might be no escape into madness.
Mood thoroughly soured, she shaded her eyes to check the height of the sun. Therava had
merely said that she would like her back before dark, and a good two hours of daylight
remained, but she sighed with regret and immediately turned Swift downslope through
the trees toward the camp. The Wise One enjoyed finding ways to enforce obedience
without direct commands. A thousand ways to make her crawl. For safety, the woman’s
slightest suggestion must be taken as a command. Being a few minutes late brought
punishments that made Galina cringe at the memories. Cringe and heel the mare to a
faster pace through the trees. Therava accepted no excuses.
Abruptly an Aielman stepped out in front of her from behind a thick tree, a very tall man
in cadin’sor with his spears thrust through the harness that held his bowcase on his back
and his veil hanging on his chest. Without speaking, he seized her bridle.
For an instant, she gaped at him, then drew herself up indignantly. “Fool!” she snapped.
“You must know me by now. Release my horse, or Sevanna and Therava will take turns
removing your skin!”
These Aiel usually showed little on their faces, yet she thought his green eyes widened
slightly. And then she screamed as he seized the front of her robe in a huge fist and
jerked her from the saddle.
“Be silent, gai’shain,” he said, but as though he cared nothing for whether she obeyed.
At one time she would have had to, but once they realized that she obeyed any order from
anyone, there had been too many who enjoyed sending her on foolish errands that kept
her occupied when Therava or Sevanna wanted her. Now, she need obey only certain
Wise Ones and Sevanna, so she kicked and flailed and screamed in desperate hope of
attracting someone who knew she belonged to Therava. If only she were allowed to carry
a knife. Even that would have been a help. How could this man not recognize her, or at
least know what her jeweled belt and collar meant? The encampment was immense, as
filled with people as many large cities, yet it seemed that everyone could point out
Therava’s pet wetlander. The woman would have this fellow skinned, and Galina meant
to enjoy every minute of watching.
All too quickly it became apparent that a knife would have been no use at all. Despite her
struggles, the brute handled her easily, pulling her cowl down over her head, blinding her,
then stuffing as much of it as he could into her mouth before binding it there. Then he
flipped her face down and bound her wrists and ankles tightly. As easily as if she had
been a child! She still thrashed, but it was wasted effort.
“He wanted some gai’shain that aren’t Aiel, Gaul, but a
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