"Idri will crucify you for this," she whispered.

Xader chuckled, seemingly without rancor. "Idri's over by the creek bank, bobbing up and down on that sergeant's pole. And when she's done with him, she'll sleep like a sow-like the sow she is." Again he chuckled. "I know."

Her breeches were down to her knees now, down to her ankles. She struggled, twisting from side to side, intensely conscious of the knife. Idri pushed you too far yesterday, she thought panting. When she wakes up, I'll be dead and you'll be gone. Sarkia will chain her in a Tiger barracks for that, but it won't do me any good. He pricked her waist with the knife tip then, numbing her will, and using a bare foot, freed her of her breeches. Then, bare from the waist down, he forced himself between her knees. The Sisterhood must be in bad shape, she thought, or you wouldn't dare do this. Sarkia would set Tomm himself on your trail.

Once more he chuckled. "Put it in for me," he said. His face smirked in hers, his breath reeking. "I'll show you what a good man's like."

She might have cooperated-it seemed her best chance for survival-but his boast was an affront to Curtis. Reaching down as if to comply, she found his testicles, and willed a powerful jolt of electricity through them. The knife which had jabbed her waist, she fully expected to plunge into her guts, but in his agony, he lost it. As he screamed, she squeezed, with hands that had milked cows for years.

With all her strength, she rolled him off, still clutching, willed another jolt, then tore his scrotum half off, cords stretching and giving. His body doubled with spasm, then went slack. She didn't entirely trust his unconsciousness, and held on grimly while scanning with her cat vision for the knife. Someone, a sentry, had grabbed a torch and hurried over, stopping a few yards off to stare. Glancing back over her shoulder, Varia's large green eyes caught the man's and held them, dominating him even as she crouched over Xader with her buttocks bared. "Never try to rape a Sister," she hissed at him, "or you'll end up like this one."

Round-eyed, the sentry said nothing. The whole camp had wakened at Xader's scream, but they kept back. Except for Idri, who arrived only partly covered by the sergeant's long, unbuttoned tunic, his saber in her hand. Xader's eyes were open again, wide and glazed with shock, and sweat greased his forehead, though the night was chill. Varia sent another jolt through him, not as strong, bringing a thin whinny of pain.

Idri cursed. "Let him go!" she ordered.

Varia did, snatching her breeches from the ground. "Go ahead, Xader," she said. "Here's your chance to tell her what you told me: that she's a sow in heat."

Psychically Varia felt the crackle of Idri's rage, but it wasn't aimed at her. The Sister stepped and thrust, the saber striking Xader beneath the ribs and riding in. He squawked like air released from a bladder, then went slack again, and blood stained his twill shirt, purchased at J.C. Penney's in Evansville, Indiana, in another universe. Idri wiped her blade first on his bare thigh, then on his sleeve. "Leave him here," she told the wide-eyed sentry. "Let the vermin clean his bones." She turned her gaze to Varia. "Put your breeches on. You have my apologies, for what they're worth. I should have known he'd try something like this."

Their gazes met and briefly locked, and it was Idri's that turned away. Yes, Varia thought as she pulled her breeches on, you knew what he was like. Probably he'd been in trouble for bothering local women at Ferny Cove, and you saved his skin. You'd love having power over an oversexed fool like that.

But she said none of it. They had hundreds of miles to go, and she was Idri's prisoner.

6: Welcome Home!

On the third day after crossing the Great Muddy River, they rode down out of wooded hills into the broad east-west valley of the Green River, an extensively cleared plain. At the edge of vision to the north they could see high hills dark with forest. The country they traveled through was new to Varia, though not to Idri, who whenever they crossed into a new kingdom, arranged for local escorts.

Unlike the west side of the Great Muddy, the people here lived under kings. The highway the Sisters rode was dirt-mud after rains-and along it, the farmers lived in tiny hamlets at intervals of a mile or less, half a dozen to a dozen cottages in each, plus outbuildings. Every few miles stood a village, and about once a day they came to a real town, with a reeve's palisaded fort. On a few occasions the party slept in inns, but more commonly, Idri obtained space for them at some manor house.

Clearly the Sisterhood retained some part of its old reputation and respect here, for nowhere were they refused an escort, or food or lodging. Though the obsequiousness common before the disaster at Ferny Cove was reduced now mostly to courteous or sometimes grudging compliance.

As they rode, Varia had abundant time to think. She and Idri had little to say to each other; their antagonism dated from long before Varia had arrived at Evansville with Curtis Macurdy. As girls, they'd vied for a coveted executive apprenticeship in the Dynast's office, and Varia had been chosen on the basis of a higher responsibility score, superior performance on decision-making tests, and greater talents in magic. Her only weakness had been an undistinguished aggressiveness quotient. But after a year on the job-a successful year she'd been assured-Varia had been sent to Farside, with the explanation that she provided the best blood line for breeding with the newly located Will Macurdy. That and better adaptability than any other of her clone.

Nonetheless, fifteen years later, when Idri replaced Liiset at Evansville, it had been quickly apparent that her resentment was alive and well. And now-Now her look, her bearing, her aura, and an occasional oblique comment said to Varia, I'm better than you. You think only of yourself; I think first of the Sisterhood. But when they stopped at an inn, she took a room for herself, and took the sergeant of their escort to bed with her. Behavior entirely at odds with the Sisterhood's hard-earned image of aloof superiority. Behavior that each escort would talk about and exaggerate at home, cheapening the Sisterhood.

Yet surely Sarkia knew of Idri's weakness, and tolerated it. What will she think of my weakness? Varia asked herself. Will she look at it as a foible? Or as treason? A misdemeanor, she decided. There's probably not one other Sister who's provided as many children as I have.

East of the Great Muddy they crossed three kingdoms. Then the broad valley narrowed, the country became semi-mountainous, the farmland discontinuous, the clearings ever smaller and more scattered. The men walked tall, looking self-reliant, not subservient like the peasants Varia had been seeing. These were tribesmen ruled by elected councils and chiefs. They raised crops, but herding was their principal livelihood.

Yet the road was better, and the mountain streams were bridged with stone. Dwarf work, according to the sergeant of their latest escort. Varia saw her first dwarves ever, a party of three. Not dwarves in the Farside sense; the dwarves of Yuulith were a unique phenomenon, the similarities limited. They were thick bodied and their legs were short, but not their arms, for their gnarly hands hung almost to the ground. They stood about four and a half feet tall. Packs and crossbows rode on their broad backs, swords at their hips, and they passed without a nod. Their mission must be friendly, the sergeant said when they'd gone by. Otherwise they'd have carried poleaxes as well, and shields slung on their packs.

Now, when the view allowed, they could see true mountains ahead, the Great Eastern Mountains, with jagged crests against the sky, snow fields and glaciers glinting on the upper slopes. Once their lead man called back that a great cat, a jaguar, had crossed the road just ahead, pausing to glower at him before disappearing into the forest. And on the mud along a stream bank, they saw the tracks of a night-prowling troll.