The Shattered Chain (9 page)

Gwennis glanced at Rohana; then said, “Yes; Leeanne and Camilla. They have been neutered; their bodies are not actually those of women. There are some women who feel that womanhood itself is too great a burden to be borne, and choose this way, even though the laws forbid it.”

“But you are not like that,” Jaelle said, and Gwennis smiled.

“No,
chiya.
It is troublesome to be a woman, from time to time—I imagine you are old enough to know so much—but all in all, I think I would rather be a woman than not, even if it were easy or simple to find anyone, in these days, who will risk the laws against that sort of mutilation. All in all I find it more pleasure than trouble.”

Rohana, too, had been curious about this; like all women reared in the protective, pampered world of the Domains, she had always thought—when she had thought about the Amazons at all, which was seldom—that they were mannish women, or plain girls such as would burden their families to find any sort of husband. But, except for the two neutered women, and the mountain tomboy with the two knives, none of them were anything like that. Kindra was gentle and almost motherly, as was Fat Rima; and the others seemed none too different, clothing and cropped hair apart, from her own waiting-women. As for Gwennis, she seemed almost like a little girl herself, not much older than Jaelle, or Rohana’s own daughter.

Jaelle smiled at Gwennis and said, “You would be beautiful if you let your hair grow long.”

It was Rohana’s own thought. Gwennis said with a kindly smile, “Why, perhaps so, little sister, but why should I want to be beautiful? I am not a dancer, or an actress, or a lyric performer, that I should need so much beauty!”

“But if you were beautiful, you could make a good marriage,” Jaelle said, “and you would not need to be a soldier or a hunter to earn a living.”

“But, little one,” said Gwennis, laughing, “I do not want to make a marriage, not even a good one.”

“Oh?” Jaelle pondered this for a moment; it was easy to see that this was a new idea to her. “Why not?”

“For many reasons. Among others,” she said deliberately, “lest I should find that my husband sought to keep me in chains.”

Rohana felt it like a blow; Jaelle put her hand to her mouth and bit at the knuckle. Her face went white, then a desperate, agonized crimson. She made a small, strangled sound, turned away and ran to her mother’s side, flinging herself down on the blanket beside her and burying her head in her arms.

Gwennis looked almost as dismayed as the child. She said, “My Lady, I am sorry, I should not have said that.”

Silently, Rohana shook her head. She said at last, “She had to know.”

Suddenly Jaelle has realized what this is all about. Before this it has been an adventure, safe because her mother is here; but she has not truly understood. And now
—
now she knows.

And a shock like this, to a girl just on the threshold of womanhood …
a
girl with extraordinary telepath potential …
Rohana was not sure just how she knew this, but she was sure of it.
What will it do to her?
Slowly, Rohana went and laid herself down in the shade beside Melora and Jaelle. Melora slept heavily. Jaelle’s face was buried in the blanket, her thin shoulders trembling violently. Rohana reached out to draw her close, comfort her, as she would have done with one of her own children; but Jaelle resisted her stiffly, and after a moment Rohana let her be.
I am almost a stranger to her,
she thought in despair. I
can do nothing for her. Not yet.

Chapter

FOUR

Three days and nights had passed, and Rohana had given up expecting pursuit or capture. If there had been pursuit at all, it had taken the wrong direction or been left hopelessly behind. Or else Melora was right, and Jalak’s heirs, finding him dead or wholly disabled, were busily dividing up his remaining wives and his property.

Gradually the character of the land had changed: the first days had seen dry, burning, gritty sand, broken only by scruffy thorn bushes and feathery spicebush; now there were endless, trackless leagues of low, rolling dunes, covered by grayish Dryland bracken, with now and again a sharp black outcrop of rock.
As if,
Rohana thought, recalling the old tale,
when Zandru made the Drylands, even the very rocks rebelled and broke through their cover, thrusting up in rebellion … the very bones of the world refusing to be covered in these barren leagues of desert and sand. …

It was nearing twilight; the fierceness of the sun was tempered by the lengthening angle of the shadow. All that day they had seen no living thing, and Kindra had cautioned them to drink sparingly from their water-skins. “Should anything delay us,” she had warned, with a sharp glance at Melora, “we might not reach the next water hole this night … and we cannot carry too much in reserve.”

Melora rode just ahead of her, head down, braced stiffly in her saddle. She had not spoken since they left the site of their noonday rest, and when Rohana would have felt her forehead for fever, she had turned away, refusing the touch, refusing even to meet Rohana’s searching eyes. Rohana was desperately worried about her. This trip was far too long, far too arduous for any pregnant woman. Melora had not complained; Rohana had the chilling sense that she had ceased to care. She seemed to have expended all the effort of which she was capable in making the original contact with Rohana that had resulted in her rescue; that accomplished, it seemed to Rohana that Melora no longer cared. She had not even asked any further questions about her home, about their kin, about what lay ahead when they should leave the Dryland country and return to the Domains.

The sun descended, a great blood-colored orb, blurred at the horizon with the first clouds Rohana had seen since they crossed the river at Carthon. Kindra, riding ahead, stopped to let Rohana come up with her, and pointed to the purpled sunset. She said, “Those clouds hang over Carthon; and beyond Carthon we are in the Domains again. Even if Jalak came so far, he would have to come with an army. Safety lies there. How does the Lady Melora?”

“Not well, I fear,” Rohana said soberly, and Kindra nodded.

“For her sake I shall be glad when we cross the river and we can travel at a pace more fitting her condition. It goes against me, to force the pace this way, but there is no safety for any of us in this country.”

“I know,” Rohana said, “and I am sure Melora understands. She knows, better than any of us, the dangers for women of the Domains, here in the Dry Towns.”

Kindra said, “Well, we will make camp yonder”—she pointed to one of the great black tumuli of rock, up thrust like jagged teeth against the low horizon—”and there, if the Goddess is good to us, we will cook some hot food, and perhaps even wash the dust from our faces.”

“Do you know every water hole in this territory, Kindra?”

The woman shook her head. “I have never traveled here before, but I can see the
kyorebni
circling as they do only over water. And tomorrow before midday perhaps we will ford the river, and be safe in Carthon.” She grimaced. “I am hungry for hot roast meat and good hot soup instead of this unending porridge and dried meat and fruit, and some fresh-baked bread instead of hardtack.”

“Me too,” Rohana said, “and I shall stand surety for the best meal we can buy in the best cook shop in Carthon, believe me, once we cross the river!”

Kindra looked back and said slowly, “Pray to your Goddess, Lady, that
domna
Melora is able to enjoy that meal. Ride back to her, Lady Rohana, and reassure her that we will make camp just a little farther on. She seems almost ready to fall from her saddle.” Her face, in the gathering darkness, was deeply troubled.

Rohana did as she was bidden, sighing. It seemed that never in her life had she known such prolonged and incessant fatigue. The thought of sleeping in a bed under a roof, eating hot, fresh-cooked food, bathing in a hot tub of scented water, comforts she had taken so much for granted that she never even thought about them, made her whole body ache with an almost sensuous longing.

She supposed the Amazons would think such longings soft and weak. Well, she would show them that she could endure hard living if she must; she was
Comynara
and she would be strong as any man of her caste. But she wished there were a few comforts for Melora.

Melora was riding next to Fat Rima; as Rohana neared them the big Amazon lowered her voice and said, “Look to your kinswoman, Lady. No, she has not complained, but I earned my bread for a time as a midwife in the Lake Country, and she has a look to her that I do not like.”

It’s good to know there is a midwife among us, at least.
Rohana drew her horse even with Melora’s; Melora raised her head, slowly and wearily, and her look shocked Rohana. Her face was swollen, with a dull pallor; even her tight lips were colorless. She tried to smile at Rohana, but could not quite manage it. Her face contracted in a sudden spasm of pain, and Rohana knew at once what her kinswoman had been trying to conceal.

“Breda,
you are in labor!”

Melora grimaced. “For some hours, I fear,” she said apologetically. “I had hoped we could reach a campsite near to water. I am very thirsty, Rohana,” she added, in the first hint of complaint Rohana had heard from her lips.

She leaned over and took Melora’s hands in her own. She said, “We are very near to water, love; can you ride just a little way farther, just a few hundred steps more? See?” She pointed through the falling dusk. “One or two of them are already dismounting; see there? Listen; I can hear Jaelle laughing.”

Melora said softly, “She is like a little animal let out of a cage. I am so glad that they are so good to her. Poor little rabbit, I have had so little strength to spare for her, on this journey—”

“I am sure she understands,” Rohana said softly. “I hope she does not,” Melora said, and in the twilight her face twisted. They were near to the place where the others were dismounting; again Rohana heard Jaelle’s light merry laugh. In the days of the journey she had quickly become a favorite with all the Amazons; laughing, chattering, full of endless questions about the world and the life before her. They had competed with one another for the privilege of carrying her on their saddles when she grew weary, saved her such tidbits and choice morsels as they could scrounge from their sparse meals, told her stories and sang songs to while away the tedium of the trip, even fashioned her small toys and playthings from odds and ends.

If
nothing else, we have freed Jaelle, and she is a daughter of whom any of the Domains could be proud. Jalak’s blood may be a handicap when the time comes for her to make a good marriage, but that can be overcome. She has
laran, I
am sure; I will have her tested when we come to Thendara. …

She slid from her horse, relinquished it to Rima, who came to lead it away, and tenderly helped Melora from her saddle. Melora’s knees buckled and Rohana had to support her cousin’s weight in her arms; she held her upright, but suddenly frightened, called to Kindra. After a moment the Amazon leader came from the shadows, took in the situation with one appraising glance. “So your time has come,
domna?
Well, only two things in this world are sure, birth and next winter’s snow, and both come when they will and not when it is convenient. Thanks to the Goddess, we are near to water. A pity we had to abandon the tent; no child should be born with only the sky for a roof.”

“Better under the free sky than in Jalak’s Great House,” Melora said fiercely, and Kindra held her hand for a moment. “Can you walk just a little, Lady? We will prepare a place for you to rest.”

“I can do what I must,” Melora said, but she leaned very heavily on her kinswoman, and Rohana felt an all-encompassing dread. Here, in the black night, in the desert, with no skilled hands to help …
Rima had been a midwife, perhaps; but the Free Amazons renounced womanhood. …

“I had hoped that I could hold out till we reached Carthon,” Melora said, and Rohana realized that her kinswoman was sharing her sense of unease and dread. Rohana must somehow manage to be strong and confident

She said, “Look. They are making a fire, we will have light, and some hot food, and there is water near,” as she guided Melora’s steps toward the kindled blaze. “And we are in luck; one of these women was once a midwife!”