* * * *
The voyage to the seaside village of Gamolliat took three days and nights. Sinnihun skirted the shoreline, keeping to the channel between Antillia and the sprinkling of islands along the western coast. Chessa was only dully aware of the days. She huddled in the rear of the canoe at Sinnihun's feet, dozing fitfully and trying to keep from thinking of anything.
At night they camped on shore and she was forced to cope with the bitter reality of her situation. She was passed from one grunting, humping Gamollian to another until Sinnihun interceded. He wanted to preserve her for Antelo, but he didn't feel that five or six a night would make any difference. She refused to eat, and when they beached the great canoe on the shale of Gamolliat, she had the look of a starved and beaten dog.
Sinnihun pulled her from the canoe and inspected her. He shook his head. "Antelo will not pay one druac for you," he announced sadly. He dragged her along, kicking a path through the children and dogs that were gathered to watch the raiders disembark.
There was a hearty welcome when he entered the council hall. Dice cups and drinking jacks were forgotten for the moment as the assemblage rose to greet the returning chief. He unsheathed his sword with a flourish and pitched it underhand up into the plank ceiling. It lodged there, a quivering centerpiece and a sign that he had returned with booty.
"Antelo!" he shouted, catching sight of his friend through the press of affectionate comrades. "Antelo, look here. I found a little present for you. You like 'em skinny, huh?" He picked Chessa up, one arm around her waist, and carried her through the crowd. With a short, ribald speech, he drooped her in Antelo's lap. Amid gales of laughter he accepted a skin of wine, poured part of it over his head. and guzzled the rest.
From then on, fate was kinder to Chessa. Antelo was unlike his rough barbarian comrades. He worked patiently with Chessa their first few days together. He tried to draw her out and get her to eat. He knew of the pain and stress she had suffered, and he understood why she retreated into herself, unwilling to deal with reality. She didn't resist his attention or try to escape. Neither did she respond. Finally her appetite improved, and, although she remained uncommunicative, she did seem content to share his home.
Antelo's cabin, donated by Sinnihun as a reward for his service, was built in a grove of gargantuan cedar trees on a bluff above the settlement. The giant trees, nurtured by the perpetual rains of the northern coast, dwarfed the squat, one-room dwelling. The sod roof was seeded in grass, making the cabin almost invisible in the rich growth of ferns that surrounded it.
Chessa was content to care for the cabin and tend to Antelo's needs. After her chores she would take the path through the ferns to a favorite place on the bluff where she would sit for hours watching the sea.
One day with no advance warning, she blurted out her whole story to Antelo. He tried to stop her, but she persisted, telling every degrading detail of her nightmare abduction.
"...and there is one more thing I must tell you," she added. She bit her lip and tears welled in her eyes. "I am going to have a baby."