The fire before Gergori felt good, warming his chest despite the nighttime chill on his back. Somewhere near him someone was playing a flute of some sort, and Gergori could hear every breath the player made, could tell every time a finger was laid across an opening in the instrument. There was a scuffle of feet, dancing, and the participants laughed and talked loudly. It irritated Gergori a little, sound was one of the senses he was forced to rely on in the absence of sight, and these people were mucking it up with that nonstop assault on his ears they called music. Anger welled in his chest suddenly.

"Shut up!" Gergori roared, leaping to his feet. "I can't hear my surroundings!" There was a brief silence, the flute stopped, the dancing stopped. Finally he heard a short scuffle of feet, a stern voice.

"Who are you to end our fun?" The voice demanded. Gergori was silent, he merely turned and strode angrily to the source of the voice. With his trademark sight without seeing he shot his hand out, when it returned, he clutched a small, wooden flute. He cocked his arm back and hurled the instrument far into the night, hearing it's impact some distance away.

"Now your fun is over there!" He snarled. "Get the hell away from me!" He shoved the would-be flute player lightly and strode back to the fire. He squatted silently, though still fuming. After a time he heard the group turn and leave, muttering about the event. Gergori merely spat on the ground. He groped in the dirt until he found the charred branch he had been holding, he poked it into the fire, feeling the flames grow. With muscles still tense, Gergori leaned back, enjoying the gritty sensation of dirt and sand on his skin.

He sighed and dropped the stick beside him. He cracked his knuckles, wincing as pain shot through his hand. His knuckles were bruised, probably from the beating he had given Iñaki, still, they were small pains, and the boy was much worse off then he was. Gergori listened for the sound of footsteps but he heard none, he sighed again, doubtless they would be coming soon. He hoped he hadn't hurt the boy bad, Zeru would be angry, and most likely the boy's wife as well. The blind warrior didn't truly fear either, he had actually bested Zeru once, but the warlord had authority, and hitting the wife wouldn't be a thing easily justified.

He squeezed his eyes shut, though it made no apparent difference in his vision, and relaxed, letting the tension out of his body.

Gergori's peace and quiet did not last long. Within the space of only a few minutes, the crackling of his fire was drowned out by a woman's voice, singing high and clear in a language he did not know.

Renna was weaving. She had abandoned the second blanket she had planned to make for her and Izotz, telling herself rather savagely that it would probably only go to cover his next wife anyway. No, she would make no more blankets for him-they would share the one she had finished weeks ago, and with any fortune that would have less chance of being used by the Other Woman. Whoever she was.

The girl stifled a sigh and went back to weaving, knotting her fingers in the threads with a faint feeling of restlessness. It was going to be one of Those nights-she could tell already. Thoughts of home were tugging at her heart, and the boisterous noise of the Zerui was more grating than usual. At times like this there was only one thing to do, and that was to sing. Renna sang, not with gusto, but softly-almost as if she were singing a lullabye for herself. Love songs and ballads and true lullabyes and a hymn or two; she'd started tonight with a very safe and very beautiful "Kyrie Elieson." The prayer songs seemed to help most with the lonely times, and since they were not in Scalian there was no risk of having one of the Zerui overhear and understand. Hymns were very private, one of the few things that were, and Renna clung to them as a miser to gold.

It was nice, laying there in the warmth of a blaze with nothing to listen to but the chirps of insects and the occasional light scampering of some small critter. Soon his eyelids grew heavy and it was difficult to open them. He had nearly drowsed off when he was jolted awake by the singing of a woman, her high voice issuing forth in a language he couldn't understand. He yawned, stretching his arms out to either side, though he could already feel annoyance creeping into his mind.

"Dammit..." Gergori muttered sleepily, forcing himself to his feet. For a few seconds he stood there, listening to the woman sing while he attempted to gain his bearings. She wasn't a bad singer, her voice carrying easily and clearly to his position. Still, she too interrupted his senses, had woken him from slumber, hatred raged in his chest.

"What alab'zakur wakes me so?" He shouted. His voice carried over the ground, he could actually hear it return to him despite the singing. He snatched up the branch he was holding before, splintering it easily in his hands.

"Enough of your howling!"

Renna jumped to hear the harsh sounds of a man cursing her, and her fingers immediately tangled into the threads of Esti's blanket. Alab'zakur? No one had called her that before. Not Zeru. Not even Hibai. She bent her head as tears pricked at her eyes and bit her lip, waiting for her voice to steady before she ventured a response to him. Calm and polite, that was the key. Just like her father-always calm.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know there was anyone asleep." Still, it felt wrong to be apologizing. "Just give me a moment to finish my prayers and-"

The weaver gulped and tried to finish her song, but her throat was dry and there was no more joy in it. For a moment Renna was convinced to just give up on it, but then she set her jaw. No, he had been rude first. In fact, he had been very rude, and he was probably used to getting just his way all the time. The unknown man she was speaking to was a bully.

"Ask me again in a moment or two and I'll stop. I don't want to keep you awake. Just say 'Renna alab'John, I want to sleep now. Please stop singing.' And I'll be more than happy to oblige a warrior like yourself. Excuse me."

The girl cleared her throat gently and resumed her Kyrie, right at the note she had been interrupted at. Strong warrior he might be, but she had done nothing to him, and this was behavior even a concubine didn't need to take.

Gergori snarled, finish her prayers? He hurled the fragmented tree branch to either side and stepped angrily into the night, until the warmth of the fire refused to touch him. All of the tension he had struggled to remove from his body came back in a flood of anger.

"Gergori sem'Unai will give you something to pray about!" He growled. "You'll shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you!"

The woman started her song again, but some emotion- fear? anger?- choked it up. By this time Gergori didn't feel drowsy anymore, and his bruised knuckles ached for more punishment. He clenched his fists tightly.

"Renna alab'John?" He shouted, the name felt strange, foreign. "An Interloper living among us? Would anyone miss you if I killed you here?"

He heard her song continue, dare she give Gergori such insolence? He closed his eyes, letting his fury turn into a concentrated, white hot hatred. When he opened his eyes, he was ready for a fight. Wordlessly he followed the voice, clenching and unclenching his fists. It wasn't long before he stood before the woman, every note of her hymn causing a ripple to force its way through Gergori's muscles. He spoke forcefully, over her singing.

"What god is it you pray to, Renna alab'John?"

OH, dear. He was standing right there. Renna stopped her weaving and looked up at the man-Gergori. Her manners hadn't worked after all; and now he-

She shivered. This hatred was stronger than any she had met before, and with no provocation he wanted to kill her? Carefully she pulled her fingers out of her weaving and stood, forcing herself to walk to the warrior. The young woman drew a deep breath to slow the thunder of her heart and knelt before him, folding her hands in her lap.

"I pray to the same god that created you, sir." Let him take that as he would; he would be offended if she claimed to worship God or his Eguzki. Both routes were blasphemy, so there was no point in trying to appease him. At any rate it was cowardice. "And yes, I am an interloper, and yes, if you killed me I would be missed."

That was true. Izotz would grieve, and Oihana, and now Esti and Zeru himself. But there was no need to point that out to him. He'd think she was lying anyway. "That's fine, though. I am keeping you awake. The life of an interloper is far less important than a warrior's sleep. Forgive me, lion."

Gergori could hear her walk to meet him, hear her kneel before him, even hear the sound of hand upon hand as she folded hers.

"The same god that created me?" He repeated. He mulled over the answer, it was purposefully ambiguous, did she mean to imply that they both worshiped Eguzki? Or perhaps that Gergori had been created by the interloper's deity, the one they referred to quite unimaginatively as God. Either way, she attempted to play games of logic with him, Gergori had never been a man of thinking, he preferred to take action and think of the consequences later. Still, Renna knelt before him, attempting to play the weaker of the two. That was something Gergori could appreciate. His next words were softer, if not still a bit forceful.

"Your subordination has spared your life thus far, keep it up, and I won't have to teach you anything."

He reached out a hand gently, letting his fingers trace her face. She was pretty, with soft, smooth skin and soft curls that reached to her shoulders at least. He withdrew his hand, desires stirring slightly within him, but they were distant, and taking this woman now just didn't seem feasible, not with Zeru likely to call on him at any time.

"Damn right you're less important than me, what are you, murroi-emazte?" He pushed away a rope of hair that had fallen over his face. "Don't ever forget that I'm a Zerui warrior, with eyes touched by Eguzki, and you are little more than some Interloper whore."

The girl went very still as Gergori stretched his hand out to touch her face, and craned her neck back as far as she could before sighing and succumbing to his fingers on her cheek. Renna did not look into his face to see his eyes, or else she might have been comforted with the knowledge that he was blind and only wished to see what she looked like. Instead, it was all she could do not to tremble, and brought Izotz's face to her mind at its very coldest state.

"You are now mine." The iron grip around her arm, his assurances that it was not bad to belong to him, the deafness he had for her pleas, and finally, a hand creeping up her-

Renna jerked her head back just as this new warrior withdrew his hand, and turned her face away. No. This was not the memory to dwell on. She sucked in a breath and clenched her hands in her lap, doing her best to ignore the arrow wounds of Gergori's words. Interloper whore. How many miserable nights had she spent thinking the exact same thing, and wondering what Hell was like? That time was over, now. She should be thanking God that Izotz had taken her, and not this cruel man. Her husband had tried to reassure her that first night with a kiss, and he had known and cared all along that he had hurt her. Almost against his wishes love grew, and now the two together were hoping for a child. This was a happy story, mostly; at least it was happier than it should have been. It was not fair to Izotz to keep remembering his only sin against her.

The weaver seemed dazed for a moment, because she said nothing to Gergori's comment-and then all at once she seemed to shake herself awake. "...It is impossible for me to forget, sir." Her tone was low, mostly because she hoped it would disguise how deeply his words had hurt. "But please do not call me that. I am interloper, and I am a concubine-and I save my body for my husband, who is Zerui and good to me and whom I love. It's true that I am very lowly. Still, that does not make me a whore."

Gergori grinned widely, this woman- no, this girl- was so meek, so helpless. He had felt her tense when he had touched her, heard the air flow as she withdrew hastily. There was hurt in her voice, concealed, barely noticeable, but there was hurt. All of it made Gergori's desires worse, want raged in him like a fire. A part of him deep inside wondered if he was visibly aroused, told him not to go any farther, but it was too late, something animalistic had woken deep inside the warrior. It was a similar thing to when he had beaten Iñaki, predatory, a desire for power and control, but this was a call for a different sort of violence.

Gergori squatted until he was face to face with the girl, at least, he thought he was face to face. "Your husband?" He snorted. "Your owner more like, you are no real wife. You claim you can't forget but clearly you do, will I have to remind you?" He grabbed her by the shoulders, gently but firmly.

"Your husband is no doubt some impotent bastard with no real skills, forget him. You are now mine." He practically breathed the last sentence, feeling his bare chest heaving. Gergori was a man no longer, he was a lion, and Renna his prey.

The girl tensed even more in his grasp, her entire body quivering as he leaned in. And then he whispered the fatal words, and she tore herself out of his hands in one violent motion. Renna didn't even notice the fabric ripping on her tunic from the force of her escape, nor the bruises she'd left-her only concern now was getting away. "No!"

The shout was not forceful. It sounded more like a wail than anything else, and the interloper girl was on her feet and running. Renna had never been more grateful for the Zerui trousers than she was at this moment, because she found herself flying. Without heavy skirts to hamper her, there was nothing for this predator to hold onto. Except her hair...

Renna stumbled and clutched her curls over her shoulder, barrelling into her tent and Izotz. She was speechless with terror and simply clung to him, gasping for her breath as she trembled. "Izotz! Help-'

The girl could manage no more, and tightened her arms around her husband's neck as she burst into frightened sobs. She'd never thought that another Zerui warrior would try to take her that way. Izotz had said that she was a wife-not a wife with any status, but enough his property that she was not a whore. She wasn't free game....

But then Gergori's voice entered her mind and she shuddered. She was still his property. He owned her.

Renna tore herself out of his arms and scurried over to the fire, where she snapped her legs up to her chest and seized one of the knives they used for cooking in her hands. It didn't matter that they were shaking. If that horrible man came near her again, she would use it on one of them, and it frankly didn't matter who. She only knew that she did not want him to cloud up her truth any more. She didn't want to think about property.

"Renna!" Izotz moved swiftly from the knife he was sharpening and came to crouch beside Renna, a hand on her hair. "What's happened?" She hadn't looked like this--so distraught, her breathing ragged, her hold on the knife tight and terrified--since--since the night Izotz didn't like to think about.

A noise outside his tent answered the question for him. He flung the flap open and came face-to-face with the blank gaze of the only blind warrior among the Zerui--a man he knew by reputation but not face. He recalled the first name because it was so ironic, Gergori, 'watchful one.'

"Sem'Zakur!" he spat at the man. It was obvious--he'd been molesting his murroi-emazte. The look on the bastard's face made it all too plain. No more words were required--Izotz drew back a fist and punched the blind man as hard as he could across the face, so hard it hurt abominably. That wasn't enough--he swung again, and again, himself blind with fury. "Predator! Coward!"

It was only the thought that Renna was still behind him, round-eyed and horrified, that kept him from really damaging the other man. He dragged himself back, holding his fist in his other hand, and looked at her. "I..." He wanted to say he was sorry, but how could he?

Gergori had heard the fist cut through the air. He had reacted with a warrior's instinct, throwing himself towards the blow to lessen the impact, still, his attacker seemed to be a seasoned warrior, and the punch came harder than he expected. Gergori briefly wondered if this was how his own victims felt, for a moment his body went limp, and it was only due to sheer strength that he managed to stay standing. The attacker moved in for more punches, striking the blind warrior in the face over and over.

Finally it was over, whoever had hit him stopped, shuffling back, though his breathing indicated he was still angry, still ready for a fight. Gergori's hand went to his face, coming away covered in blood. He could feel a split lip, a goose egg forming under his left eye. The blind warrior's face seemed to hurt all over, and he was surprised that no teeth came out when he bent to spit blood. Gergori stayed in that position for what seemed an eternity, letting sticky strands of blood and saliva ooze out of his mouth. Finally he straightened out, brushing a dreadlock from his face.

"Who..." Gergori shook his head, attempting to regain his composure. "Who is is that strikes me? You are...very skilled, Gergori sem'Unai is not bested easily." Gergori bent over again, placing hands on knees. He took deep breathes, trying to make his weak knees firm up again. Dull anger raged in his stomach, once Gergori felt strong enough he was going to kill the man, no doubt abut it. His hands clenched his thighs firmly, this coward that had struck Gergori without fair warning, he would pay.

Renna still clutched at her knife, frightened out of her mind at this strange and violent man who had determined to hunt her down. It was with no small amount of relief that she watched Izotz stop him cold with a fist to the face, but the fear would not go. She quivered where she sat and stared at the two men, quite unable to do anything else. Renna knew that the moment Gergori left she would burrow under the furs and sob, but for the time being she had to watch him. Turning her head away and hiding would only mean that he could get her more easily. He was still after her, even when he was dripping with blood and-blind?!

The girl caught a glimpse of her attacker's face in the firelight, and shuddered as she drew even further back. He couldn't even see her and he had found her. The man must be possessed. That was the only explanation-that the Devil was with the Baskar after all. Or rather, the Devil was one Baskar. No wonder she hadn't been able to reach him. And no wonder that he hated her so much when she had done nothing to him. Renna did not like the thought of telling the Devil her husband's name, so she settled for cheekiness-although the way her voice was shaking, it was nearly impossible to hear her sarcasm. "...My husband. Remember, the impotent one, with no skills?"

"I see you've changed your tune, whore." Gergori spat. "You should learn that the Baskar never talk unless they can back it up, I suggest you go back to your groveling before someone beats you."

Gergori straightened up once more, his strength returning. He wiped blood from underneath his eye and nodded. "Why haven't you finished the job yet, gudari?" Clearly Gergori's attacker had more self control than he, Gergori would not have stopped until his opponent lay bleeding and broken before him, much as Iñaki had. Winds changed and Gergori could smell his attacker, a mixture of sweat and earth and the smoke, typical Baskar scents. Gergori could also hear the angry breaths the man took, could feel the air flows move around him. Gergori knew exactly how far his opponent stood away, roughly how tall he was, what position he stood in. It was part of what made Gergori infamous, his eyes saw nothing, and yet he took in everything.

"You've made a mistake, dog." Gergori spoke low and threateningly. He turned as if too walk away then whipped around suddenly. His legs coiled tightly then released, launching the blind warrior towards the man that had hit him.

"Die!"

Izotz gathered what had gone on, and his blood surged with rage beneath his skin. This man, this blind sorgin, had tried to take Renna by force. Why? He never would have done such a thing to a Baskari woman... and so, all Izotz could believe was that it was because of her color, never mind how the evil man knew it; and therefore it was his fault for bringing her...

The other's eyes were disconcertingly blank. The way he moved, the way his nostrils flared and sweat pooled in the creases beside him mouth--it was all very animal. Not human. The movements of a feral dog or a madman. Izotz could recognize madness; he knew it well, from his father, and now when he looked at the mad spirit before him he thought: had Hibai come back? Was Hibai here, stalking him, in the body of someone blind?

No. The thought was absurd.

When the injured man suddenly sprang at him, Izotz was ready for it. Used to distrusting others, he'd seen the telltale shift of muscle in the man's legs and body. He ducked, and tackled Gergori, one elbow slamming hard into the other's ribs. And then, his mind caught up in visions of what this beast had intended to do to Renna (and of visions of himself, doing the same thing--her reactions, her fear, the faint whimpering--) he kept hitting, and hitting, and hitting, trying to exorcise his own demons, trying to drive this evil man all the way to Eguzki's eternal fire.

He heard the crunch of gristle beneath his fists, felt blood on his knuckles.

He only stopped when the red rage faded from before his eyes and he realized that Gergori was hardly moving. "Izotz sem'Hibai is my name," he hissed down at the man. "Renna alab'John is my concubine, and if you touch her--with so much as a finger--I will kill you and leave your body for the wolves."

Gergori knew then, what it meant to be defeated. He was struck by how warm the ground was, despite the cool night air. It was a strange thought, and soon his mind turned to the horrible pains in his body. A small shift drove knives into his ribs, he hoped none were broken. He gasped weakly for air, still winded from a hard elbow to his abdomen, and rolled to his side. "Sem'Zakur." Gergori said, or rather, attempted to say. What came out instead was a gurgle and a gush of blood. The blind warrior groaned and spit the contents of his mouth out. He grimaced at the warm pool near his head. With a groan flopped to his back.

"Izotz...sem'...Hibai?" Gergori repeated, a huge breath between each syllable. His fingers clawed at the ground, he was sure one had broken beneath Izotz's weight. "You are...you have my respect, Izotz sem'Hibai." Gergori breathed, blood and spittle frothing on his lips. "No one's beaten me like that before." He groaned again and placed his hands on the ground. With determination and more than a little struggle he forced himself to a sitting position. Every part of his abdomen seemed to ache, but he was pretty sure no ribs had broken. Still, he could feel sharp pains in his sides, and knew full well that he'd have some nasty bruises forming soon. He grimaced and turned a swollen face to where he thought the woman was standing.

"Renna alab'John." He stated. "I won't apologize for what I've said, it is done and can't be taken back. I will assure it won't happen again, though, any woman joined to such a formidable warrior is worthy of Gergori sem'Unai's respect."

Renna felt sick. She was weak with horror and had to turn her face away from the fight-in fact, she promptly screwed her eyes shut and stuffed her fingers in her ears. It was too violent and far too horrible. What if the blind, crazed man hurt Izotz? It was true Zeru had offered her a place with him, but, he wasn't Izotz and never would be. The last thing she wanted was to lose her Ema.

And then the sounds of battle heightened, and she winced. It didn't seem like she had to worry about her husband any more-only the man he was beating. Renna cautiously lifted her fingers out of her ears, and winced again to hear Ema refer to her as his concubine. It was the fact of the matter, of course, but she would still have preferred to be called 'wife.' Especially around the likes of this terrifying Gergori; it would have helped her to prove her point. The weaver fretted to herself, still trying to distract her mind from the violence of what was happening and the persistent quivers beneath her skin. It was going to be fine. Izotz would take care of her.

Her prediction was soon proved correct, with a sudden silence followed by a coughing voice. The madman had given in, and he was......apologizing? Well, not really, but in a way. Renna opened her eyes and looked at him warily, not trusting him for a moment. He couldn't possibly respect her. He'd been calling her a whore only minutes earlier, and her owner beating him was no reason for him to change his mind concerning her. But she bit her lip and nodded, then remembered that he couldn't see. Renna gulped. But she brushed a curl out of her eyes and moved to the fallen man, silently dipping a rag into the pitcher by the fire and wiping the blood off his face as carefully as she could. "Thank you."

That was all; despite the kindness of her gesture she was far too frightened to venture any more words to her attacker.

"Don't," Izotz said abruptly, but he stopped short of ordering her away from the fallen man. That wasn't--that wasn't how he wanted to be with her. Still, there was little enough that differentiated him from this blind and prideful warrior. It turned his stomach that the man respected him.

"Fear me," he said at last, gazing down at his fallen adversary. He put one hand on Renna's shoulder. "Get up, leave, and continue to fear me. I don't want your respect, I don't want your regard, I want you to stay the Hell away from my wife and I want you to stay the Hell away from me." He cast a practiced eye over the warrior's prostrate body, and detected no major injuries. His own hands shook, both from the beating he'd given them against Gergori's face, and from the overwhelming, murderous anger surging through him.

"Now get out. Or I will kill you." He could hardly spare Renna a glance, though he did keep a hand on her shoulder, protectively. And to support himself.

Gergori was a silent for a moment, then suddenly, he began to laugh. It sent sharp pains through his ribs, but he continued to chuckle. He pushed the wet rag away from his face gently, he didn't need a woman helping him, at least, not one that belonged to another man. "Izotz sem'Hibai, I fear nothing." He laughed. "If you don't want respect I won't give it, but fear you?" He snorted again and pushed off from the ground firmly, struggling to his feet with some difficulty.

"You could break my body in a thousand places and I wouldn't fear you, Izotz. Eguzki has blessed me where he has left other men to suffer, what do I have to fear?" Gergori took a few shuffling steps away from the warrior and his wife, clutching at his side with a pained hand. Having gone a few feet he turned back. "You are the son of Hibai sem'Gilen, no? I know no other Hibais." The blind warrior straightened up, though the action made his grimace. "Your tribe is often seen as uncontrollable, I can only hope you would convince them to submit to Zeru. Or at the very least distance yourself from them. We will meet again in battle someday, Izotz, what side you stand on remains to be seen, and the outcome may not be the same as it was today. Sometimes the hawk eats the snake, sometimes the snake eats the hawk."

Gergori nodded and turned slowly, shuffling his way into the night, where he could lay down and rest, and perhaps find some datura to keep his mind off the pain.

The Thiasan jumped when her husband set his hand on her shoulder, but she left her place by Gergori and came to stand white and shivering at his side. Every muscle quivered, and Renna barely heard Izotz call her 'wife' through her fear. If he had said it at any other time she could have flown for joy. But as it was she could only think of his hand touching her, circled around her arm, and followed by the words you are mine. Mine. Mine mine mine!

The memories were taunting her again, but this time she had no power to fling them away. Renna watched dully as Gergori turned and dragged himself out of the tent. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he had left her frightened of her own husband. She would wait until he had left. She would, no matter how slowly he was moving. She would wait....

The moment Gergori was out of sight something snapped. Renna jerked out of Izotz's grasp and fled to huddle in the farthest corner of the tent, putting her back to him. Her shoulders shook with sobs, but that was quickly concealed because in the blink of an eye she had wrapped herself in her mother's quilt and had cradled her sister's doll in her arms. Her tears were silent now, and she kept them muffled in her arm as she wept.

Izotz drew back, completely at a loss. He knew exactly what Renna was thinking, and he felt swallowed up in helpless rage. Not at her, but at himself. He should never have taken her; it had been based upon his own ridiculous pride. He should never have kept her; he should have sent her back with her guardsman. And he should never have claimed her as his own that first night, when it was so clear she was really a child when it came to their customs.

He let her have a little time, and went, himself, to sit by the banked fire, staring down into the faint echo of Eguzki's eye. Tell me what to do, he thought, offering up the wisp of a prayer, which rose with the fire's smoke through the top of their tent.

What he wanted to do was offer up his blood, maybe some of his own flesh, but he knew: that wouldn't do anything. Sacrifices only meant something when they were for everyone.

Maybe even the interloper sacrifice was not the right thing. But it wasn't the time to question the Warlord, or to question Eguzki. It was the time to question himself.

"Renna, what do you want from me?" That wasn't the right thing to say, but he didn't say it petulantly, just a little hopelessly, pleading. "Ask, and it's yours, even if it means pain..." Particularly if it meant pain.

"Pain?"

The word was whispered, and Renna cringed where she lay beneath her blanket. She didn't want to cause him pain. He was trying so hard for her, and the way he was pleading now twisted her heart. What could she tell him? What could she ask of him? No hand could reach into her mind and remove the memory of the horror he had done to her. She could pretend and ignore and bury it, but something would happen again. A dark night, or a harsh word, or even an attack-and it would all return. Renna had hoped that forgiveness would be enough to banish her own fears, but it had been proven that this was not the case. She was terrified. She was not happy here. If she lifted her head to look around she saw furs on the ground, stained with blood, and a crude tent as the only shelter from the elements. There were no brothers and sisters, no father and mother. No clean earthen floor laid with rushes. No table, no windows, no lullabyes. Thin clothing that did nothing to cover or comfort. A pile of dirty skins to sleep on. What would she ask? For him to become Thiasan and take her home?

Even in distress the girl knew that she was dealing with a man here, and not a god, and she quietly reserved herself to get over this. She was not going to ask the impossible, and she was not going to cringe from him whatever might be going on inside her head. He deserved that much.

Renna took a deep breath and sat up, very slowly, wiping her tears on the back of her hand. She did not think she was entirely done crying tonight, but she needed to speak to him calmly.

"Ema, I don't want to give you pain. I'm sorry." Her voice was tender enough to surprise her. She hadn't thought she would be able to manage that sort of tone. "Ema, Ema..."

The interloper leaned over and stretched out her hand to take his. "Forgive me. I will be better at this. I'll be stronger. I'll be brave. But..." She bit her lip. "If I were to ask anything....." He would say no. "...my first choice would be to keep me as your only wife. I know you can't do that, and I'm sorry for it, but there are some other things. Not painful, but...uncomfortable."

She tightened her fingers. "You said once that people should not have to change so others might love them. That was true, and I love you now. I wish for your happiness. But I could be happier." That was the understatement of the century. "If it would not hurt your happiness, I would have you sever your ownership over me. Privately. Secretly, if you wish. No one else need ever know. Make me a free woman-and..." Her daring was making her blush, even with a few stray tears. She couldn't even ask this of a Thiasan gentleman. "...Then ask me to marry you. Secretly. ifyouwant." Renna looked down, suddenly shy. "I don't care if I'm a concubine to everyone else. The words and label 'whore' will never stop hurting, but it would give me some comfort. And then, maybe..."

The girl lifted her head and wordlessly held out her arms, asking to be picked up and cuddled the way a toddler might. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve me to remember."

Izotz closed his hand over Renna's, and thought.

He thought with the slowness that characterizes all sincerity, and not the lightning-flash of nimble prevarication.

He thought: It was evil to do what my father wanted. I've broken rules before. By rights, Oihana and Arnas should both be sentenced to death.

Did I not do so because Arnas is my friend, and Oihana is Renna's? Well, does it matter?

What law of Eguzki's is more important than love?

It felt trite to say it. But power was power. Hibai had been able to break laws, break rules, and he didn't even have Right on his side. Why shouldn't Izotz, when he did?

"Yes. Tomorrow. But you must become Zerui... for those who become... it's only ever been warriors. I'll need to talk to Zeru. Usually the only way--what we do to Endikai who come over--is the Sundance, but with you, as a woman--it will be less... and then... I'll marry you." He watched her levelly, little hint of emotion in his face, apart from in his eyes, and the faint tremble of his lips.

Izotz was terrified.

"...Become...Zerui?" She stared back, and it was clear that she was as frightened as he was. She'd seen the young men perform their Sundance, and how many times had she run her fingers over the thick scars on Izotz's side? Renna seized at his hand. It wasn't the pain that frightened her now. She could bear physical injury far better than the pains of the heart. The Sundance would certainly be unpleasant, but nothing compared to-

"But I don't even worship Eguzki." The girl looked at him unhappily. It was so good of him to offer this to her; and she knew it. "If I become Zerui must I do so? And what of my family? Am I not allowed to keep them in my heart? Must I not love them anymore?"

She bit her lip, afraid of his answer. What would he think when he learned that there were some things she would not be willing to give up for him? It was so unfair, for both of them. Maybe if they had more time this would be easier. But it had only been a few months, not nearly long enough to soothe memories and sorrow and not nearly long enough for the interloper to embrace, much less accept, Zerui ways. It was too fast. Too fast. Renna berated herself for her impatience and sighed, shaking her head slightly.

Izotz sighed, and leaned forward to kiss Renna on the forehead.

"Worship Eguzki... you would have to perform the rituals, the morning prayer, the midsummer blood rite." He shifted, a little uncomfortable. "But worship him, in your soul? People spend their lives trying to reach that--no one can ask more than that you try--most people say they find him at their Sundance. But as for women, no, you wouldn't have to do the same thing." One hand went ruefully to his own side, where the thick scars of his ritual bore out its rigor; then he lifted his arm so his palm cupped the softness of Renna's cheek.

"For a woman, it's easier, it's three days of fasting with only a little water and dancing, and then..." He furrowed his brow, trying to recall what one of the elders had taught him about this admittedly rare ritual. He'd asked when he was curious as to why Oihana's daughter wasn't named after his father. "And then you spill some blood into the fire, and a Chief or the Warlord says a prayer--I should find out what that is. Most people... most people don't do it, because--I don't know--it's very rare." He watched her. "It's something you have to be allowed to do by the Warlord, too. So I can offer, but..."

Renna leaned into his hand, but she squirmed a little. "I'm not worried about the dance. I'm not. I can take it. It's just..." She lifted her head and looked up at him, utterly worried. "Zeru would let me if you asked him. I'm not worried about that either."

This was such a chance! She could be a wife to him. She wouldn't have to worry about her children being shamed. She wouldn't be his property-at least, no more than any other woman was. But something felt wrong, and it was twisting in her heart. The weaver bit her lip even harder, looked at her husband, and whispered. "I don't want to try to worship Eguzki."

She didn't. Even if she hadn't had her own faith in the Christian god, the last deity she would choose to serve would be the one that demanded human sacrifice. A bloodthirsty god that delighted in pain--surely even Izotz had to admit that Eguzki did not fit well with gentle Renna. "That would be being false to my own god, and you know how I feel about....things. You know. What if next year the man is not a stranger? This will be bad enough. Thomas Avonlea....what if next time it is my father? Or my brother? Why should I want to worship that?"

Izotz sat quietly, his head, now, in his hands.

"I can't make you understand--the way we worship--look, I don't think it's right to sacrifice interlopers, either." He shook his head. "Just as it wasn't right to take you... the way I did--" He shook his head, his stomach in curdled knots. "But I don't think. We need to be at peace with the Endikai right now. It would be stupid and absurd to sacrifice one of them. It's possible--Renna, please believe me, you haven't seen His true face. He's a kind God. Perhaps Eguzki and your God can be seen to be the same."

He looked up at last, an expression of labored thought contracting his brow. "I don't know what's right. I know you like Zeru, but I don't trust him as far as I can throw him. He's supposed to have the Ear of Eguzki, but I don't think he has it any more than my father did!"

Izotz clapped a hand to his mouth, stifling this blasphemy, and looked away. "Forget it--just--"

There was a moment of silence, and then Renna's arms were slipping around his neck. She held him just long enough to press a kiss to his cheek, then moved away to curl up at his side with her head resting on his knee. The young woman smiled up at him and lifted a hand to touch her fingers sweetly to his lips, where she traced their shape almost distractedly. "...Maybe he doesn't."

The hand lowered to her lap, but she continued to look up at him. "Maybe he doesn't have Eguzki's ear, or whatever you call it. Maybe he's not a prophet. So what?" Renna was matter-of-fact. "He is a good man, and a sane one. That is more than can ever be said of Hibai, begging your pardon. But you know that much anyway, I hope. The point I try to make is that even if he is not some great revelator, he knows your religion. He cares about his people and what happens to them, and he tries to be what he is needed to be. He sacrifices, and prays-oh, I'm sure he prays with everything he has- and he chooses what he feels will be best for all of us." She became quiet. "I think, Ema, that you might be a little bit biased. He doesn't like you. Why should you like him? But if I were to be honest I would say that he has no reason to like you. He is trying to balance the Endikai on one side and Thiasans on the other and then out of nowhere his own people cause trouble. Your father chose a horrible time to be an upstart. Truly he did."

Renna sighed and shook her head. "Must you take everything so seriously? Jainko does his best. If you disagree with how he does things, fine. But I am begging you. Now is not the time to worry about his place in Eguzki's eyes. Now is the time when he needs your support. Now is the time to work with him, even if he is less than what you wish. The storm is coming, and if you add this burden to our collective canoe we are going to sink. We'll die, Ema."

Izotz slid a hand down the pale, smooth underside of her arm, over the underground river of her bluish veins.

"You're right," he murmured, touching her only lightly. "You're right, you're right. I just can't... you're right about more than that. I don't think it is the proper thing for Zeru to sacrifice a Thiasan, someone unwilling, someone ignorant--!"

Izotz shook his head, then slid his fingers back up her arm, the abrasive and calloused pads of them catching a little on her flesh, like the tiny claws of insects. He took her hand, and raised it to his lips again, kissing the tender indentations between her knuckles.

"For the sake of my people, I defer to Zeru, I do." He sighed, his breath hitting her skin. "I do; but here's the thing, I don't... you know how it is. You have your faith. I have mine. And I really do, it's real faith, and I must believe, I feel, that Eguzki wants something of me. Something I'm not giving. If you become my wife, Renna, and you become a Zerui in name, I'm going to find a way to show you Eguzki so you can see Him like I do."

Izotz was aware he sounded a little bit like Hibai. A little evangelical. A little bit 'off.' But he wasn't his father; Hibai had been evil, had been cruel. He was only seeking the truth.

There was a very long silence, and the muscles of Renna's arm stiffened under Izotz's hand. It was too soon after her scare for him to be doing this-that was what she told herself, although in her heart Renna knew that her knee-jerk reaction also included the thought of having a barbarian try to convert her. She moved from his touch just slightly, just enough to escape his fingers...and then looked into his eyes and wondered. What would she say to that?

The answer came in a flash, and she let herself return to her former position with a brief stroke down his arm by way of apology. "...Thank you."

Her words were gentle. "Thank you for caring enough about me to want to share what you see. It's a generous gift." Renna took his hand and sighed, then wiggled a bit to nestle her head into a more comfortable position on his knee. "You know I'll listen. I just make no promise that I'll see the same thing. My God has given me much and I love Him for it...and that will never change. Tell me about Eguzki if you wish. But please don't expect me to change that. It won't. I have my faith, too."

Izotz nodded.

"Very well." He moved a hand to her hair, stroking the chestnut shine of it. Her hair was like a bit of polished wood, or a horse's coat, when it was caught back in Zerui braids. But, most of all, it was Renna.

"I can't ask of you--as I said--loving someone is loving them, not what might be. That has nothing to do with it, only I'm quite serious when I say it will be very difficult to live here if you don't perform the rites of the Zerui, if only outwardly." It shocked Izotz--really shocked him--how low he'd fallen--or how high he'd risen. Was he really suggesting that she lie to his own people? Outwardly appear to pray to Eguzki in the mornings, but send her thoughts to her God?

At the same time, how was it different from any number of those who thought they were praying to the true God and who were, in fact, merely talking to themselves, asking for favors or good luck in a hunt?

But he knew his tribsmen would be absolutely appalled if they knew what he was saying and allowing, and even a part of him was taken aback.

"Renna; if I lived among your people, I don't think they'd tolerate my religion; you say everyone's Catholic, and the Hebrow people and the Musselmans are sometimes killed. It's much the same here... not everyone would think the same way about it, but it's best not to draw attention to it. I wish it were different."

She relaxed visibly to the hand stroking down her hair, letting her eyes close to show her pleasure in the touch. Yet even with her relaxed appearence, Renna was listening-listening with everything she had. This conversation was too important to ignore, and she had never been in that habit to begin with. "...I know they wouldn't."

The girl nodded to herself. "The Catholics, if they knew you, would have you convert or die. If you did convert they would never trust you and would still treat you as something less. Most of them. Enough of them." Now she sounded sad. "It is the truth of it. But I never said it was right."

The green eyes slid open, and she looked into his face. Even now she found herself admiring it, and fascinated by the inky black of his eyes....but that was not what she needed to focus on right now. Once more she shifted her weight, this time sliding so that the full of her torso rested in his lap. It made it a little easier to look at him this way. "Ema, the trouble with religion is that it involves men. There are devils in hell with more compassion than some who walk the earth pretending to be Christian. But look at me. I'm here, alone, with no priests or popes or anyone to listen to. No one but myself and what I know of the center of my religion. And what I do know is certain. I know that He loved everyone, regardless of crime or sin or sex or wealth. That's enough for me to know. That will be my pattern."

She lifted a hand to touch his curls and smiled. "As for life being hard....what kind of servant would I be if I left the master at the first sign of trouble? It's just a little test. One of many, and knowing that He tests those hardest who are most worthy I take it as a compliment. I'll be fine."

Renna paused, then, and bit her lip. "Um, Ema. One more thing. Don't blame Jainko for sacrificing an ignorant and um...unwilling....man." Ohdearohdear. He was going to hate her for this. "....I gave him another option."

Quickly she looked away from him, fixing her stare at the jar by the fire.

"What?" Izotz tried not to jerk away or jar Renna physically, but he was absolutely shocked. And understood immediately what she'd offered.

"Renna, that makes no sense. In any--in every!" Surely, no civilized people allowed women to be killed. Even on raids, no good Zerui would rape a woman, or kill a woman or child. Only the unscrupulous Thiasans did such things. "The man we're sacrificing is a warrior. If he doesn't die here, he would have died..." The syntax of the sentence didn't completely make sense. "That is, if he hadn't been captured, he simply would have been killed on the battlefield. There's absolutely no reason why you, instead of he! Is this the insane promptings of your God? Your God, who wants people to worship death for its own sake? We fight so as not to die, and at the same time we recognize that death is holy. Your people seem to think, from what you're told me of your religion, that death is the best anyone can hope for, better than life! I love you, Renna, but your people's ideas of life--a sexless, deathless eternal life, and you still think of us as barbarians... you do, I think. When you look at me, I'm afraid that's all you see--"

He paused, and shut his eyes. "What I did to you, though I wasn't fully aware of it, was the equivalent of a battlefield rape. A shame, for which I deserve scorn. Because of that, and because I love you, I'll gladly accept the scorn of my people for taking an interloper wife. Their scorn, and any punishment you give me, Renna, except the fear of your death--I have to know you won't sacrifice yourself because you believe in your Dead God Who Is Three Gods. Because dead is dead, and I don't want you to die!"

It was more emotion than Izotz usually showed. He was dredging up the deepest parts of his beliefs.

"That isn't why I offered. Ema, that's not why."

Renna sat up then, and shook her hair over her shoulders. Even though she was speaking calmly, she couldn't help but feel her heart picking up pace. It was so good to hear him begging for her life, but at the same time so horrible to hear the worry and the fear. Izotz was strong. He was never afraid....or so she'd thought. Apparently she'd been wrong.

The Thiasan wrapped her arms around him and drew his head down to her chest, where she cradled him at her shoulder. "And you don't understand my faith any more than I understand yours, so please...don't assume. I don't worship death. None of us do; that's not the point..." The girl had to blush at the thought of dead spirits having sex, and lightly reached out to chuck his chin. "I didn't know lovemaking was so important to you." This was the wrong time to tease, probably, but then his assumption that sex was one of the more important things in life had made her laugh. Still, Renna quickly remembered how much she'd just scared him and tried to pull herself back to the current conversation.

She bit her lip and give him a sheepish smile, then turned his head so he was looking into her eyes. "Ema. Do you know why I offered? Because when I look at the Zerui, I don't see barbarians. And I love you. These people are..." Renna only gestured. "That's not to say that I don't find some customs barbaric. Sacrifice and multiple wives and using women as pleasure slaves will never sit well with me. But that isn't all I see. It's not. And you know...my people would miss a captured warrior. I've been gone so long, and I was born so poor and pointless that I knew no one would miss me or care if I never came back. Aside from my poor family, anyway... no soldiers would come if I never came back. No one important would get upset. It would give you one more year...to figure things out, and it would be a real sacrifice. To protect you all... My God never orders that lives be thrown away; only that they be used to profit others. And you know.." Renna bit her lip again. "I don't see how you can call the death of a man you care nothing about a sacrifice. You are giving nothing for your God's blessing...the life of a stranger. It's little more than an execution."

But then she softened and gave him a gentle kiss. "I promise you, husband, I did not want to die. Life is very sweet to me....I only wanted you safe. I thought you could manage without me." Renna looked up at him and gave him her most winning smile coupled with the most pathetic puppy eyes she could muster. "I promise I won't do it again. I'll help the Zerui some other way. Oh, and one more thing..."

A quick hug, and a whisper into his ear. "Thank you for saving me tonight."