The Golden Sword by Janet Morris

which the Nemarsi deny us. Who are you, Miheja the crell?”
    If I had told him he would have understood. His eyes searched my face, and for a moment I thought he knew me. The moment passed. He sighed and reached out toward me again.
    “Before he comes in here and stands over us, lie down!” he said urgently. He pushed me backward, and I let myself fall, and lay there until I had been officially bred. I heard the crellkeep grunt to himself with satisfaction and lumber away.
    When he returned with two hot bowls of binnirin gruel, Aje still held me. He stroked my hair and pressed my head against his chest, and little by little the tension drained out of me. It was a great kindness.
    The crellkeep put the bowls upon the floor and departed. It was another little while before the light-haired crell bestirred himself, kissing me upon the crown of my head and raising me up with him.
    He made the polite compliments that might be between two free people at such a time. It was strange to hear them. I put my hands around my bowl. I wondered if the place were truly cold, or if it was an inner chill I felt. I pressed closer against him, for warmth.
    “The crellkeep will be bringing the others in soon. How is it that you are the dharener’s ten and have not lain with him?”
    “I do not know what a ten is. I was with Chayin, before he gave me to Hael. It is very complicated.”
    “Good. We will have lots of time. Besha will not want me tonight. She has problems with the cahndor. I am also a ten. Tens spend most nights with their owners. I do little stonework anymore.”
    I wondered that he knew so quickly of Besha’s encounter with Chayin.
    “I will tell you about my capture only if you will tell me those things which I desire to know.” I could hardly have cared less at the time.
    “Anything, if I know it.”
    “First, about the tens, and second about what occurred in Arlet two years, three pasks back. More specifically, what transpired there between a Day-Keeper and a Slayer. I have been told this is common knowledge, but it is knowledge I do not have.” And at that moment there was a stabbing brightness behind my eyes. For a second I could not see, only afterglow. It was Hael, with the helsar.
    “Are you unwell?” His voice was solicitous. I told him I would survive. I hoped I would.
    “I know only hearsay, but Khemi, who is upon my left on the chain, was, I think, in Arlet at that time. I was crell even that long ago.” His soft voice was wistful.
    “And about the tens?”
    “The tens eat better. Their work, whatever it is in nature, is reduced in hours. It is a number of favor. The jiasks and the tiasks and the crellkeeps will treat a ten better. Prize your status. You can go no higher. You have a work number. What is it?”
    “Seven,” I answered.
    “With the threx,” he informed me. “It could be much worse.” He rubbed his hands together. Those hands when upon me had little of a musician’s touch to them. They were scarred and twisted and rough. The room again exploded. I saw a thousand lights.
    “Do you think the dharener will call you this night?” he asked. I almost laughed. I pulled away from Aje, running my hands through my tangled hair. My upper lip was beaded with sweat, though I had been so recently cold. I could see an overlay of another room, faint but real as I looked around me. Hael had unwrapped the helsar and sat before it.
    “I said, do you think the dharener will call you?” repeated Aje.
    “No,” I said. “I do not think he will.”
    “Tell me about what occurred on the desert,” Aje suggested.
    I did so, and while I was in the telling, the crellkeep brought groups of crells in and fastened each in place, until there were fifty-three of us in all. Then food brought, by two crells on a rolling board was passed around. Our old bowls were collected, and Aje and I were fed again, on the heels of a meal.
    I moved to send my bowl back ..
    “Keep it,” Aje hissed. “There are some who