Jeremid spoke then. "Spear maiden, there's a Hero on the other side of you who'd happily hump you all night long."

"You're not the Hero I want humping me."

He laughed. "Then you're as damned difficult as he is."

"Go to hell, Jeremid."

He laughed again, and after a moment, she did too.

Macurdy didn't. After a bit he went to sleep, but awoke some time later to quiet sounds. He was the only one in bed, and the sounds were of panting and moaning on the floor beside it. He lay without moving, feeling miserable. The sounds speeded and intensified without growing appreciably louder, peaked, then died. A minute later, Macurdy heard Jeremid's whisper: "How'd you like that, spear maiden?"

"You're good, Hero," she whispered back, "you're very good."

"It's here for you whenever you want it." Jeremid's chuckling was a series of soft aspirations. "I'm better than Macurdy'd be, I'll bet."

"Hard to say. His horn is bigger though, that's for sure. He's a real horse."

This time Jeremid didn't chuckle. "How do you know?"

Melody told him of mounting Macurdy on the night he was beaten.

"Then all that stuff about loyalty to his wife…"

"He wasn't awake when I slid it in. And even then he didn't start pushing for a while."

Neither spoke for a minute or so, till Jeremid said, "Why did you follow him? Just to get humped by him? I always thought that recklessness of yours would get you in trouble. And he's not even good-looking anymore, with his teeth all broken out."

"I'm in love with him. That's not something you'd understand. Humping's as far as it goes with you."

Jeremid didn't respond. Despite his own state of mind, Macurdy wondered what the Ozman was thinking.

"Why did you follow him?" Melody asked.

"Don't know. I guess-I admire him. He's got more guts than anyone I've ever seen. And he's honest. And smart, damned smart-except when it comes to you." Jeremid chuckled again. "Besides, where he is, interesting things are going to happen."

Their conversation lapsed, and Macurdy wondered if they'd gone to sleep there on the floor. Then one of them began to breathe a little raggedly. "Damn you," Melody whispered, "I said only once."

Again Jeremid chuckled. "Here we are naked, and who knows when we'll have this good a chance again."

After a moment, Melody said, "Just a minute."

Between half closed lids, Macurdy watched her go to her gear. In the dimness, the vague sight of her bare buttocks made the breath stick in his chest. Half a minute later she was back out of sight, on the floor with Jeremid. Before long he could hear them having sex again. His torment lasted considerably longer than the first time, and Melody was harder put to keep her climax quiet.

This time when they'd finished, there was no conversation. They put their cottons back on and came carefully back to bed. It was quite a while before Macurdy slept again.

22: Decorations on a Town Square

On the road next morning, Macurdy did not feel refreshed. His dreams had been restless and troubling, though he couldn't remember them. He had no trouble at all, though, recalling what he'd heard when he'd wakened in the night. He supposed he should feel complimented by the things they'd said about him, while by the standards of Oz, or at least the House of Heroes, their couplings had been unobtrusive, even modest.

These realizations didn't help. He felt-deprived and jealous. Feelings which he realized were totally unjustified. Jeremid wanted Melody as much as he did, and had as much right to. As for Melody and himself-clearly all he needed to do was say yes.

And how had Varia spent last night? he wondered. Being bred by some stud? Enjoying it? She'd been more than enthusiastic when they'd been together. He imagined her groans, her cries almost yelped, her strong fingers digging his back. Whose back now?

While he imagined, Melody trotted her horse up beside his. "Macurdy," she said, "we need to talk. Privately."

He dug heels in his horse's ribs, and they pulled farther ahead of the others. "You woke up last night, didn't you?" she asked.

He nodded without speaking.

"When I got back in bed, your breathing didn't sound like you were sleeping. And this morning-it was pretty obvious."

Yeah, he thought, I suppose it was.

"What did you hear?" she asked.

"All of it, I guess. The first time, and the second, and the talk in between."

"Macurdy, I love you, you-jackass. And it's damned hard to be around you without having you."

"It's the same with me."

"I suppose it was bad for you, listening to us go at it."

He grunted. "That's not your fault. Not your problem."

"I know it's not. But I don't like having caused you pain. I'd rather cause you pleasure."

"Suppose you get pregnant?"

"I've got lamb bane in my gear."

Lamb bane. Of course. He'd heard of it from Hauser, who collected it in season for Arbel. It didn't keep anyone from getting pregnant, but both sheep and women, if they ate it early enough, miscarried with no trouble. The two of them rode without speaking for several chains. "Look," she said finally. "I can't promise I won't hump with Jeremid again. But I do promise not to do it where you can hear us. Will that help?"

By Oz standards, he realized, that was downright thoughtful. Even sweet. He looked at her earnest face and found himself smiling. Fondly! The realization startled him, left him mentally gawping. You're in love with her, Macurdy! he told himself amazed. You are! You're in love with this girl! "Sure," he found himself saying. "It'll help a lot. And Melody, I don't want you to feel bad about it; I really don't. Because I love you, too."

She stared at him, surprised, then annoyed. "Macurdy," she said, "you're an exasperating bastard." And pulling aside, fell in a little distance behind him.

Leaving Macurdy wondering what he'd said wrong. But the question was fleeting, giving way to the matter of being in love with two women at once. Truly in love with them. He'd never thought about such a thing before, had grown up accepting that you could only love one at a time. Yet it seemed to him both loves were real. His love for Melody was different than his love for Varia, but it was love, he had no doubt.

The difference that counted, he told himself, was the vow he'd taken. And he'd abide by it in spite of all.

The weather had turned nearly summery. Gnats were out, though not a kind that bit. The elms along the road were pale green now, with countless millions of disk-winged seeds, while the new leaves of various species were expanding.

This plain, this Green River Valley, was pleasant to Macurdy's eyes. Tekalos was good farmland. Talbott and Hauser assumed there was a geographical equivalence between Yuulith and Farside, and as closely as Macurdy could figure, if there was a gate here, it would open into Tennessee. Western Tennessee or maybe west-central. From all he'd heard, Tennessee was mostly hills and mountains, and he wondered if it had any area of farmland to compare with this.

In midafternoon, Blue Wing caught up with them. He'd flown back to the site where the bandits had attacked the dwarves, and filled his belly and crop with dead horse meat. Or so he said. But Macurdy was aware that even vultures, with their hooked and powerful beaks, let dead horses and cattle lay longer than that for the hide to soften. It seemed likelier that some dead bandit had been Blue Wing's meal.

The dwarves slowed their progress. Their ponies were slower, and they took breaks long enough to make fire and boil water for sassafras tea. They felt no urgency. And while Macurdy's experience with horses hadn't included long crosscountry trips, he told himself this was probably a more sensible speed anyway. Besides, more than a year had passed since Varia had been kidnapped; what difference would a few days make now? She was no doubt safe enough.