The Shattered Chain

  Kindra grimaced with horror and revulsion. Rohana went on, steadying her voice with a fearful effort. “Melora told me that at last, after so many years, she bore a son to Jalak; that she would die before giving him an heir of Comyn blood. She did not ask rescue for herself, even then. I think-I think she wants to die. But she will not leave her other child in Jalak’s hands.”

  “Another child?”

  “A daughter,” Rohana said quietly, “born a few months after she was taken. Twelve years old. Old enough”-her voice shook-“old enough to be chained.” She sobbed, turning her face away. “For herself she asked nothing. Only she begged me to get her daughter away; away, out of Jalak’s hands. Only so-only so could she die in peace.”

  Kindra’s face was grim. Before I bore a daughter to live in the Dry Towns, captive, chained, she thought, I would lay hands on myself and the life within me, or strangle the babe as she came forth from my womb! But the women of the Domains are soft, cowards all! None of this showed in her voice, however, as she laid a hand on Rohana’s shoulder, saying quietly, “I thank you for telling me this, Lady. I did not understand. So our mission is not so much to rescue your kinswoman as to free her daughter; that is what she asked. Although, if Melora can be freed…”

  “Well, my band and I are pledged to do all we can,” Kindra said, “and I think any of us would risk our lives to save a young girl from living chained. But for now, Lady, you will soon need all your strength, and there is neither courage nor wisdom in an empty belly; it is not fitting that I should lay commands on a Comynara, but will you not join my women now and finish your meal?”

  Rohana’s smile wavered a little. Why, beyond her harsh words, she’s kind! She said aloud, “Before I joined you, mestra, I pledged myself to conduct myself in all ways as one of your band, and so I am bound to obey you.”

  She went out of the tent, and Kindra, standing in the doorway, watched her take a place by the fire, and accept a plateful of the stewed meat and beans.

  Kindra did not follow at once, but stood thinking of what lay ahead. If it came to Jalak’s ears that anyone of the Domains was in his city, he might be already on guard. Or would he so despise the Free Amazons that he would not trouble to guard against them? She should have insisted that the Lady Rohana dye her hair. If any spy of Jalak’s should see a redheaded Comyn woman … I never thought she would be witting to cut it.

  Maybe courage is relative; for her, maybe it took as much courage to cut her hair as for me to draw knife on a foeman …

  It is worth risk, to take a young maiden from Jalak’s hands, from chains to freedom.

  … Or such freedom as any woman can have in the Domains.

  Kindra raised her hand, in an automatic gesture, to her cropped, graying hair. She had not been born into the Guild of Free Amazons; she had come to it through a choice so painful that the memory still had power to make her lips tighten and her eyes grow grim and faraway. She looked at Rohana, sitting in the ring of Amazons around the fire, eating, and listening to the women talk. I was once very like her: soft, submissive to the only life I knew. I chose to free myself. Rohana chose otherwise. I do not pity her, either.

  But Melora was given no choice…Nor her daughter.

  She thought, dispassionately, that it was probably too late for Melora. There could not, after ten years in the Dry Towns, be much left for her. But there was evidently enough left, of what she had been, to spur her to an enormous effort to get freedom for her daughter. Kindra knew only a little of the telepathic powers of the Comyn; but she knew that for Melora to reach Lady Rohana, over such distance, after so long a separation, must have taken enormous and agonizing effort. For the first time, Kindra felt a moment of genuine sympathy for Melora. She had accepted captivity for herself rather than allow any more of her kinsmen to risk death by torture. But she would risk anything, to give her daughter a choice; so that her daughter would not live and die knowing nothing but the chained world, the slave world, of the Dry-Town women.

  Lady Rohana did well to come to me. After so many years, no doubt, her Comyn kin wished Melora dead, wished to forget she dwelt in slavery, a reproach to them.

  But that is why the Free Amazons exist, in the final analysis. So that every woman may, at least, know there is a choice for them … that if they accept the restrictions laid upon women, on Darkover, they may do so from choice and not because they cannot imagine anything else. …

  Kindra was about to leave the tent, to return to the fireside and have her own meal, when she heard a small, strange sound: the whistle of a rain-bird; such a bird as never cried here, in the Dry Towns. Quickly she turned, nervously alert, seeing the small, slight form that wriggled under the back flap of the tent. It was very dark, but she knew who it must be. She said in a whisper, “Nira?”

  “Unless you think some rain-bird has gone mad and flown here to die,” said Nira, rising to her feet.

  Kindra said, “Here, get out of those clothes; another woman around our fire will never be noticed, but in men’s clothes you would collect another crowd here. We had quite enough of that while we were off-loading.”

  “I heard,” Nira said wryly, slipping out of her boots, unbuckling the short sword she wore-contrary to Domain law-and concealing it in the clutter of the tent. Kindra flung the younger woman a shirt and loose Amazon trousers, saw that she was very faintly silhouetted by firelight, and turned the tiny lamp lower still until they were in darkness. Nira was folding up her disguise; as she stepped into her clothes, Kindra came and asked in a whisper, “Was there any trouble? What news, child?”

  “No trouble; I passed for any trader’s lad from the mountains, any apprentice; they thought me a beardless boy with his voice still unbroken. For news I have only gossip of the marketplace, and some from the servants at Jalak’s door. The Voice of Jalak, who keeps his Great House when the Lord is away, has received a message that Jalak, and his wives and concubines and all his household, will return before noon tomorrow; and one of the slave-girls told me that they would have returned tonight, except that his Lady is heavy with child, and could not ride so far this day. Jalak has sent word for the midwives to be in readiness at any time after his return, and his servants are making bets about whether this will be the son he wants … it seems he has begotten nothing but girls, whether by wife, concubine or slave-girl, and that he has promised that the first of his women to bear him a son shall have rubies from Ardcarran and pearls brought from the sea-towns at Temora. Some old midwife says that she can tell by the way Lady Melora carries her child, low and broad, that it is a son; and Jalak will do nothing to endanger her while he has this hope. … “

  Kindra’s face twisted in distaste. She said: “So Jalak is camped in the desert? How far away?”

  Nira shrugged. “No more than a few miles, I gathered. Maybe we should have arranged to attack his tents. …”

  Kindra shook her head. “Madness. Have you forgotten? The Dry-Towners are paranoid; they live by feud and combat. On the road, take my word, Jalak will be guarded so that three cadres of City Guardsmen could not come at him. In his own house he may be a little more relaxed. In any case, we cannot stand against open attack. A quick strike, a guard or two killed, and ride like hell; that’s the only kind of chance we have.”

  “True.” Nira had dressed in her own clothes again; they were about to leave the tent when Nira laid her hand on Kindra’s arm, detaining her. “Why must we have the Lady Rohana with us? She rides but poorly; she will be no use at all in a fight-she hardly knows which end to take hold of a knife-and if she is recognized we are all dead women. Why did you not demand that she wait for us at Carthon? Or is she like those men who hire a watchdog and do their own barking?”

  “I thought so myself at first,” Kindra said, “but the Lady Melora must be warned, and ready to leave with us at a moment’s notice; the slightest delay could ruin us all. The Lady Rohana can reach her mind, without warning Jalak, or rousing his suspicions as even the most cautious message could do.” K
indra grinned wryly in the darkness of the tent. “Besides, which of you wants the task of caring for a pregnant woman on the journey back? None of us have much taste for it-nor any skill should she need nursing. Or do you want to try?”

  Nira laughed ruefully. “Avarra and Evanda forbid it! I stand reproved!” she said, and went to join the other women around the fire. After a moment Kindra went to join them, taking the plateful of food they had saved her (it was cold by now, but she ate without noticing), listening to the women talking softly as they cleared away the dishes, set a watch. Mentally, she checked them over.

  She had handpicked this group from volunteers, and with all of them except the young girl Gwennis, she had worked before. Nira, who could pass as a man when she must, and had even, only the Blessed Cassilda knew how, learned to use a sword. Against Dry-Towners we may need it. By the Charter of the Guild of Free Amazons, it was not lawful for any Amazon to bear a sword. Too threatening to the men of the Domains, for women to play with their precious toys! Yet that law was not always honored; Kindra felt no guilt that she had allowed Nira to teach the others what she could of handling a sword. Then there was Leeanne, who had been neutered at fourteen and looked like a slim boy: breastless, hard-bodied and spare. Another who had known the neutering operation-which was illegal, but still turned up sometimes as a fait accompli-was Camilla, born of a good family in the Kilghard Hills; she did not use her family name Lindir, for they had long disowned and disinherited her. Camilla was nearing middle age, and like Kindra, had spent most of her life as a mercenary fighter; she was scarred with multiple knife-scars. Also Kindra had chosen Lori, who had been born in the Hellers and fought with two knives, mountain style; and Rafaella, Kindra’s own kinswoman. Not all the Free Amazons were fighters, of course, but for this mission Kindra had chosen, mostly, the best fighting women she knew. Then there was Devra, who was not a great fighter, but skilled beyond anyone Kindra had ever known at reading the trackless lands of mountain or desert, so that Kindra had chosen her, warning her to keep out of any close-quarters fighting. And Fat Rima, who was altogether feminine in appearance and manner, and so heavy she could ride only the biggest horses; but Kindra knew she was skilled at making and managing a campsite, and their comfort was valuable, too, on a trip like this; and like all Amazons, Rima was completely able to defend herself. And she has other skills that may be needed before we reach Thendara! Kindra reflected. Then there was the girl Gwennis, and Lady Rohana.

  Anyone who knew the Free Amazons, Kindra thought, could tell at once that the Lady was not one of them: her walk, her speech, her riding. But there was no one here, the Goddess be praised, who knew that much about them!

  They had finished putting away the supper gear; Kindra surrendered her empty bowl, to be scrubbed with sand by Fat Rima. Rafaella brought out her small rryl and laid it across her knees, striking a preliminary chord or two. “Kindra, will you sing for us?”

  “Not tonight, Rafi,” she said, smiling to soften the refusal. “I have plans to make; I’ll listen to the rest of you.”

  Devra began a song, and Kindra sat with her head in her hands, her mind not on the music. She knew she could trust every one of these women with her life. Lady Rohana was an unknown, but she had more reasons than the others to work at Kindra’s command. The others had all volunteered; partly, at least, because like every Free Amazon from Dalereuth to the Hellers, they hated the Dry-Towners with a deadly hatred. The Domains themselves had made an uneasy peace with the Dry Towns, and kept it; there was no love lost between Domains and Dry Towns, but there was a bitter memory of the long wars they had fought, without any conclusive victory on either side. The Domains might accept the present state of truce out of political expediency; and their women with them. The Domains live under men’s laws. They accept the enslavement of the Dry-Town women because it pleases them to think how benevolent, by contrast, they are to their own women. They say all men must choose their own lifestyles.

  But no woman who had ever cut her hair and sworn the oath of a Free Amazon would ever accept that compromise!

  Kindra had early freed herself from a life that now seemed to her as enslaved, as weighted with invisible chains, as that of any Dry-Town woman who walked in her ornamental bracelets and fetters of possession; she felt that any woman who truly chose, and would pay the price, could do as much. Yes, even the women of the Dry Towns. Yet, for all her lack of sympathy for any woman who bowed her head to a man’s yoke, she felt a surge of hatred and loathing for the men who perpetuated this kind of slavery.

  Should I tell them my plans now? She raised her hand and listened. Lady Rohana, who had a sweet, small, untrained voice, and Gwennis, who had a very light, true soprano, were singing a riddle-song from the Domains. Kindra decided not to disturb them. Let them have a night’s undisturbed sleep first. “Set good watch around the camp,” she said. “Some of these Dry-Towners may have ideas about how Free Amazons might like to spend their nights, and I doubt we’d care for their notions.”

  Chapter

  TWO

  At high noon the marketplace of Shainsa lay sweltering under a direct sun, beating down on the dry stone, the sun-bleached stone walls of houses and buildings that turned blind faces to the light.

  In spite of the insults and jeers that the loafers of the streets had flung at the Free Amazons, their booth, a light woven-wicker affair intended for transport on horseback, had been doing a flourishing business all morning; the mountain-tanned leather commanded a good price in the Dry Towns, where few animals could be husbanded and leather and textiles were scarce. Their stock was vanishing, in fact, so quickly that Kindra was beginning to fret; if any happenstance delayed Jalak’s return, and their wares for sale were exhausted, their lingering in the town might cause some suspicion. Must I lay the groundwork for an accident to one of the pack animals? she wondered. Then there was a stir in the marketplace; an almost visible murmuring of rumor, and idlers, passersby and children began to drift toward the great gates. Jalak, she thought. It must be Jalak returning, nothing else could create so great a stir.

  Leaving the booth in the hands of Devra and Fat Rima, she moved idly with the crowd toward the gates, Rohana at her side. She muttered, in a tone that could not be heard six inches away, “Now, if ever, you must get a message through to your kinswoman. Tell her to be alert to move at a moment’s notice; we may have only a few minutes to strike and we must take it when the occasion offers. It will not be until after nightfall; thereafter, she must be ready. Also, find out precisely where she sleeps, and if she is guarded and by how many; and where her daughter sleeps, alone or with other royal daughters.”

  Rohana leaned against the Free Amazon’s arm, feeling suddenly sick and faint with the enormous responsibility. Now it was suddenly all on her shoulders. Someone jostled them; Kindra glared, steadied Rohana on her feet and the jostler flung a jeering phrase at them that made the Comyn woman blush with indignation, more for Kindra’s sake than her own. She knew the Free Amazons were often accused of being lovers of women; she supposed some of them were. Yet all Kindra’s kindness to her had been entirely impersonal, almost motherly, and Rohana felt a surge of anger that Kindra should suffer such insult on her behalf. How absurd to be thinking of that now! As if I-or Kindra-could possibly care what some Dry-Town nothing thought of either of us!

  There was a blare of horns, a strange, hoarse fanfare. First came a dozen of his guards, in trappings so alien to Rohana as to make little impression on her except the general one of rude splendor: sashes and baldrics, elaborately gilded tunics, high headdresses. Then cralmacs, furred and tailed humanoids with great gold-colored eyes, wearing only their own fur and elaborate jeweled sashes, riding on the great shambling oudhraki of the far deserts: a legion of them, it seemed. More guards, less elaborately and ceremonially dressed this time, but armed with the long, straight swords and daggers of the Dry-Towners. Rohana thought, Just as well that Kindra’s band did not try to strike him encamped by night. And then came Jalak himself
.

  Rohana had to turn away before she had more than a sight of his thin, hawk-keen face, sun-bleached under thick pale hair, fierce bristling mustachios; there were times when it seemed to her that so immense a force of hatred must somehow communicate itself to his object, that he could not fail to be aware of her thoughts. Rohana, a telepath since girlhood, lived with that as reality; but Jalak seemed impervious, riding amid his guards with a set, impassive face, looking neither to left nor right.

  Near him rode-she supposed-a couple of his favorites, slaves or concubines; a slim girl with lint-white hair, chains jeweled, her body muffled in a scant fur smock, but her long legs bare to the fierce sun; she leaned toward Jalak and murmured and cooed to him as they passed. On Jalak’s other side a thin, elegant boy, a pretty minion: too curled, too jeweled and perfumed to be anything else.

  Behind Jalak and his favorites rode an assembly of women, and among them, outstanding for her flame-red hair (now, streaked faintly with gray), rode Melora. Rohana felt faint. She had been prepared for this; Melora had come to her in thought. But seeing her like this, in the flesh, changed beyond recognition (And yet, Cassilda pity us, I would have known her anywhere, anywhere …), Rohana felt that her pain and pity would overwhelm her and she would sink down, fainting.

  Kindra’s hand closed painfully on Rohana’s arm, the nails digging into the flesh; Rohana recalled herself. This was her part in the rescue, the thing only she could do. Deliberately, she reached out and made contact with her kinswoman’s mind.

  -Melora!

  She felt the shock, the start and flutter. She was suddenly afraid less Melora should see her, make some sign of recognition.

  -Betray nothing; do not look for me or try to see me, darling, but I am near you, among the Free Amazons.