by Robin Roseau
I didn't mention that part, but I did look over my shoulder to Sartine. "I am glad we did not turn around this morning."
She hugged me, pressing her head against my back.
From that point, travel grew slower and more difficult, and there were places we had to walk the horses. I understood completely that this route would be closed to travel once the snow arrived.
"How soon will it snow?" I asked Sartine.
"Soon."
"My staff will not be able to send me the things I need to do my job."
"Not until spring."
"And you took me, knowing this?"
She smiled. "Your mission is for years, and your reports to your empire are irregular. You will personally miss two, possibly three, but your staff will file reports instead. Your empire will not miss you, and then you will have much to report in the spring, from your outpost in the wilds of Talmon. Your empire will be impressed with your devotion to duty."
She was right; she was absolutely right.
"I told you, while I was deciding how I felt about you, I was taking care, Cecilia. Your staff would not answer all our questions, but they answered enough."
My estimation of her went up again. It had been doing that, going up and down as the mood struck me.
I was deeply impressed how she had managed to turn me around entirely. I was the ninety-seven-year-old, and she was not yet thirty, but she was wrapping me around her finger. And I was not only letting her, I was beginning to enjoy it.
I wondered what she would say when I finally told her how old I was. Of course, she wouldn't believe me, not until she saw rejuvenation for herself.
But as I said, our détente did not last. It ended rather dramatically shortly after we stopped for the night on the second day. It had been a long, difficult day, and my mood had not improved when I took a fall while crossing an icy-cold river. The footing was too uneven to ride the horses, and so we had traveled on foot, crossing from stone to slippery stone. I had slipped, and the hands helping to steady me had loosened, and I had gone down, almost taking my assistants with me.
If my hands had been free, I could have maintained my balance, which was why I'd had any assistants at all.
I landed badly, banging my ass and elbow and barely avoiding hitting my head on the rocks, and then I had slid downstream with the water, immediately into deeper water.
The water was fast, but not horribly fast, but with my hands bound, I was helpless to the water, especially with the now wet and heavy clothes dragging me down.
They scrambled to pull me from the water, six more of my captors growing as wet as I had by the time I was pulled to safety.
It was the closest brush with death I'd had in three decades.
Afterwards, I had sat on the stones alongside the river, numbly allowing them to do whatever they wished to me. Some of them hurried to light a fire. My rescuers all stripped from their wet clothes then clustered around the fire, drying off, before pulling on fresh clothes.
I, tied as I was, couldn't do a thing to help myself, and Sartine recruited help to strip and dry me, two people holding each arm the entire time I was untied. I was forced to stand there before all of them as she dried me, and then even longer as I was warmed by the fire.
At least she had used the women to assist her, so I wasn't fondled by the men.
I wasn't a prude. But I wasn't casual about nudity, either, especially around men. If it had been all women, I might not have been as upset.
But I accepted all the treatment with tightly-pressed lips. Later, when it was all done, and I was again warm, dressed in dry clothes, and with my other pair of boots upon my feet, I said tightly, "I almost died."
"It was not that close."
"I was helpless. If all of you hadn't rescued me, I would have died."
She didn't respond to that.
"I almost died because you insist on keeping my hands bound in this fashion. I wouldn't have fallen if you would free them."
"It is the law. Until you arrive in Indartha and accept it as home, you are bound."
I turned to look at her. "You just made up that second part."
"No, Cecilia, I did not. Until you refer to Indartha as our home, and I believe you mean it, I must treat you as a prisoner. Or return you to Sudden."
"You should have told that to me two days ago. I thought you untied me when we arrived in Indartha."
"I thought you would accept the situation. I thought you had. I thought you welcomed it."
"I welcome some of it, but Sartine, to me, 'home' is Centos Four."
"You called your house at Sudden 'home'."
"Sudden is not home. If you returned me tomorrow, I would leave with the next transport."
"But your mission is another several years."
"Baardorid and Chaladine helped you do this to me, Sartine. Do you think I ever want to see them again? Do you think I could possibly work with them again?"
"You remain bitter. I thought that was past as well."
"I will remain bitter until they have had a piece of my mind. And then in delivering that piece, I will destroy any chance at future diplomacy. I will resign my position here, and I will never take another post as a diplomat. This stage of my life ended the night you invaded my home."
"You must hate me."
"No. I am deeply upset right now. I almost died. Please untie my hands, Sartine. I will promise to behave. You know you can trust me. If I wanted you to return me to Sudden, you already offered, and I declined. I will go to Indartha with you, and you may retie me before we enter the town."
"It is not trust," she said. "It is the law."
"It is a stupid law."
"Sometimes laws are stupid. You told me that. This law is written carefully, but it does not consider the difficulties of Sudden or Indartha. It is a very good law for Fessen and nearly every other village on Talmon."
"It is a stupid law, regardless," I said.
"I understand why you feel that way," she replied. But she smiled. "But tell me. You like being my galatzi prisoner, don't you?"
"Shut up," I said. "Untie my hands, and I'll let you kiss me more than I already do."
"I won't violate the law, Cecilia, even for your kisses."
"Untie them for river crossings and other dangerous points."
"There are no points that you cannot navigate with your hands this way," she declared. "That was poor luck. You lost your balance at the same time that Natopid did."
"Are you sure he didn't push in thanks for his shoulder?"
"Are you accusing?" she asked quietly.
"No."
"Are you even wondering if it was intentional?"
"No. Does he hold a grudge?"
"No, or if he does, it is minor, and perhaps he smiles that you are bound but beginning to accept your situation. But I also smile at seeing you bound, and I rejoice that you are now moving forward willingly."
"You like it kinky," I accused. I had to use the English word, then refused to explain, but she figured it out.
"I like knowing you belong to me," she admitted.
I cooperated while she jollied and caressed me into a better mood, and I didn't feel at all guilty that I was needy about it.
I had almost died, after all, and it was her fault, as far as I was concerned.
* * * *
But we lost a lot of time, and so she pushed us, traveling until dusk, and while she had jollied me, it hadn't entirely lasted.
We came to our stop for the night. I was thankful to descend from her horse. I thought perhaps the horse was thankful to have me descend, as well, and I thought the horses could all use a week or two of recovery, but of course, they were going to need to hold on a few more days.
I was stiff and sore, and I really, really needed a good stretch, so as soon as she reached the ground, and someone had taken her horse away to attend to it for her, I turned to her. "Sartine, I really hurt, some of it from the fall in the river, some from a long day in the sadd
le, and quite a bit of it from the way my arms are always tied. Please, will you untie my arms for a few hours before bed."
She put her hands on my shoulders, and I thought she was giving my request careful consideration.
She smiled. "All right, but I need something from you in return."
"A promise to behave and to cooperate when you tie them in the morning."
"You know I will be tying you at bedtime, and I know you'll behave. No. I need you to call me 'Vendart'."
I laughed, not realizing she was seriously, but she frowned. "You think that's funny?"
"That's what got me into this situation in the first place," I said. "I called Baardorid that-"
"And now you will grant that title to me instead of him."
"I called him that because I thought it was a title like any other title. I did not realize anyone would consider it as some sort of oath of fealty." I had to explain that phrase, as I had used English. "It was a major diplomatic mistake on my part, and one of the many reasons I should not accept any future diplomatic roles. I am not qualified."
"You are young. You make mistakes. We all make mistakes. That does not mean you are unqualified. I believe you have made deep friends in your time here, and is that not the role of a diplomat?"
"A diplomat should not make the mistake of offering an inappropriate oath, and I believe we can agree I certainly did so."
She nodded. "Perhaps, but can you not forgive yourself for this mistake, especially as it landed you here with me, in a very alluring situation?"
"I believe you are the one who finds the situation most alluring. I would rather you were the one tied, day after day."
She laughed. "I imagine you do, but that is not to be. I am the vendart, and you are my galatzi prisoner. And while you did not agree to this situation the way I had thought you had, you did agree two days ago. You want to be my galatzi wife." Wife is perhaps not the proper English translation. She had to explain the word, as I hadn't heard it before. But consider it close enough.
"So I do not remain a prisoner forever. I become a wife."
"Of course. When you finish accepting the situation, call Indartha home, and accept your place in my bed."
"We already share a bed."
"You have stated I must court you, and so I presume you do not expect to share a bed once we arrive home." She stressed that word. "Am I wrong?"
"Maybe I want to be courted, but still be warm at night."
She laughed. "You allow only limited kisses. What is it?"
"I guess we'll see." I smiled. "Please untie me, Sartine."
"You know the price I ask, my little galatzi prisoner."
"Little? You're the little one. And I made that mistake once. Well, more than once. But I have learned my lesson. Find another price."
"I require this price, if not for this, then for something else. This is a good opportunity for you to develop the proper habit. I will untie your hands until bedtime, if you promise to call me 'Vendart'."
"You're being petty."
"I am not." She spoke crisply, with steel in her voice. It was not the first time she spoke that way to me, but it was not her most common tone. "I am your vendart now, and I require you to acknowledge it. Or you are and remain a prisoner."
"Sartine, I am a citizen of Centos Four. Under no circumstances do I renounce my citizenship. I am proud of my home world, and I will never renounce it!"
"I am not asking you to."
"Furthermore, whether it is convenient to you or not, I am the imperial envoy on this planet, and while I fully intend to resign that position, I have not done so yet. Nor do I intend to do so while based in Indartha. I have a long, long list of reasons for that decision."
"I do not expect you to resign your position. I told you that."
"You are asking for an oath of fealty I literally cannot give!"
"Offering a token of respect to me has nothing to do with your citizenship or your position for The Empire."
"No, you're right. But you're not asking for a token of respect. You're asking for an oath. If it was only the token of respect I thought it was, I could offer it. But clearly, it means a whole lot more than I realized." I rattled my bound hands in emphasis. "Or I would not be standing here like this. You would have taken someone else, as you would not be under the impression Baardorid could trade me away like a head of cattle!"
We both had our backs up now. The long day hadn't left either of us terribly resilient, and if I were a better diplomat than I was, I would have realized it.
"I do not ask you to renounce your citizenship. I ask you to declare your residence. I ask you to declare that I am your vendart. That is the truth, and you know it. You knew it two days ago when you finally accepted the inevitable."
"Inevitable?" My voice rose. "Inevitable. Damn, you're arrogant."
She calmed down before I did, marginally anyway. Her voice lowered, and she said, "You will agree to address me as 'Vendart', with respect, and you will mean it. Or you remain bound."
She didn't quite drive me to the point of seeing red, and so I was able to keep my tone and not begin screaming. Instead I said coldly, "You know why I can't do that. And you know what happened to me today. You're picking a poor time to make a point you know I can't give you. You need to learn to compromise. But if that's your final answer, so be it."
I turned my back on her and began to walk away.
"Prisoner!" she barked. "Where are you going?"
I looked over my shoulder. "I am going for a walk. Alone."
"Get back here." She pointed to the ground in front of her. "Now. You are going nowhere without me."
"I suppose you expect me to sit down and let you bind my legs."
"I certainly do."
"Well then," I said. "You're going to have to make me, as I intend to take a walk." I turned away and headed for the trail we had arrived on.
I had no idea if she would let me go. I don't think I really thought about it. All I could think about was getting away from her, both so I could calm down, but more importantly, so neither of us would say anything that couldn't be retracted.
She gave me five steps before she barked, "Get back here!" I ignored her and kept walking. I got another five steps before she ran past me, interposing herself in my path. Her face was blotchy, and with my enhanced eyesight I could see the blood pounding in her temple.
"Pick a place and sit down!" she ordered. "I am tying your legs."
"I am going for a walk, and when I return, you may tie my legs if I am such a flight risk that you can't trust me." I laughed. It wasn't a nice laugh. "You expect me to trust you over some very important things, but you don't trust me at all."
"It's not trust. It's the law. Pick a spot and sit down."
"How well has that tone worked for you so far on this trip?" I asked her. I then took two significant steps directly away from her and began dancing on my feet. We both knew what that mean. If she intended to touch me, I'd give her a fight.
"You wouldn't," she said.
"I believe I have amply demonstrated my willingness and ability to kick the crap out of you," I replied. "You can defuse this right now, Sartine. Get out of my way. I will be back when we're both calmer. You don't honestly think I'm trying to run, but if you don't trust me, send someone to keep a distant eye on me."
"Sit down. Now."
"Go to hell." It was English, but she understood the tone for what it was.
She took two steps towards me, and I sent a low, fast kick towards her. She deflected it as well as the next two, and I scrambled away from her after each one.
I had no delusions over how this would turn out. She had the use of four limbs; I had two. In a fair fight, I was convinced I was better, but she was good, and more than good enough to beat me with such a significant handicap.
But her fighting style did not include the same sort of kicks I knew. After all, I had access to far more styles and more formal training than she'd had, and far more years spent
learning them. If I'd applied myself more completely, if martial arts had been a more important part of my life, then she wouldn't even have been a close match, perhaps not even with my arms bound.
Still, I had my kicks, and she didn't match them. Kicks are good for fighting from a distance and for keeping your opponent at a distance, and that's what I tried to do. And so, she didn't immediately launch her own attacks. Instead, she pressed me, blocking, diverting, or otherwise avoiding any serious strikes.
But I wasn't really trying to hurt her, anyway. I was angry, but not that angry.
And so I continued to kick at her while backing away in a circle, then with my back to the trail I had intended in the first place. I let her drive me in that direction.
We had long acquired an audience, of course, but they let her handle it, none of them saying anything, at least nothing I could hear, and I was able to ignore them. If we moved closer to one side of the audience, that side backed away, giving us the room we needed to resolve this.
Giving Sartine the room she needed to kick my ass.
As I said, that conclusion was foregone. But I didn't intend to make it any easier on her than it needed to be.
Finally, she did send a few kicks my way, giving me a few bruises, but I didn't think she was using her full strength. She avoided my head and more tender regions, but I took several strikes to both arms and a few to the meaty part of both legs. She was better at avoiding my kicks than I was at avoiding hers, but I was getting through enough that we were both going to wear bruises.
But then I launched a strong side kick right for her chest. If it had connected, I would have knocked her solidly onto her ass. But she twisted away from it, and while I wavered, off balance without my arms free to counteract the motion, she grabbed my lifted ankle and simply lifted higher.
Down I went, flat on my face. She didn't wait. She didn't even release my leg. She was instantly on top of me, pressing me more firmly to the ground with her own weight. I tried to kick at her and began swearing loudly in a mix of Talmonese and English.
