native state. As the day ended, he was almost looking forward to seeing the fellow taken into custody, even though normally he would not have wished that on anyone. They'd give him a good beating to knock the superiority out of him, search his mind without painkilling spells and find out all those things he was too high and mighty to tell.
Now, there was a frustrating thought. Scarvan's mages would learn all the things about the Tari that Ezratah so longed to find out. They probably wouldn't tell him either. It was enough to make him almost… After all, he could mindsearch the fellow himself. And Yani had no way of preventing him. The temptation was great.
But it would be very wrong to act in such a way, even toward a native. As a mage he had vowed not to prey upon them. That way led to death magic. Though, of course, an illicit mindsearch was a very long way from actual collusion with demons. No. No, he couldn't do it. He had to maintain standards even in an uncivilised place like this. Especially in an uncivilised place like this.
That evening they camped in a stand of trees near a stream. Ezratah made sure that there were several rocks under his blanket so that he didn't sleep too heavily. It did no good; he must have been exhausted after following Yani's pace all day, for it seemed only a moment after he lay down that he was waking with the sun in his eyes and the sound of a child's laughter in his ears.
He sat up and looked around for the child but he could see no one. By the time he had rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he was almost certain he had been dreaming. The sun had only just risen by the look of it. He was alone, but he was pleased to see that Yani's bedroll and pack were still there. There was no sign at all of the annoying Tari. No doubt he was off saying his strange little prayers.
Ezratah slid out of his bedroll and stretched. He remembered his vindictive feelings of the night before and he was a bit ashamed of them. Still, the authorities had better be informed about Yani. It was only wise. He went quickly to Yani's pack and went through it. In among the provisions were vambraces, grieves and a helmet. These made the pack extremely heavy. It was amazing that the Tari could move so fast while carrying so much weight! He must be immensely strong despite his slight build. Apart from the armour, there was little else of note in the pack. Nothing for him to learn from.
Ezratah sat back on his heels, the familiar frustration creeping into him. He foresaw every chance of travelling to Olbia and finding out nothing more from the fellow. His mind filled with the tempting idea of mindsearches once again.
Now might be a good time for the Tari to have a clandestine conversation with someone. But where to find him? The river was the first place to look. If nothing else he could have a wash and a drink while he looked for Yani.
He walked as quietly as possible down the path toward the river. Though it was not a big river, it had a steep bank that was covered with trees and underbrush. Through the trees he saw a white shape in the river, and peering more closely, he saw it was Yani. He was sitting naked in the water and rubbing his body with sand. He rubbed his back and then swivelled around and splashed water up over his breasts…
Breasts! Sweet Mir! Automatically Ezratah ducked down behind a bush. Breasts? Breasts!
For a moment he could only lie there, quivering with shock like an arrow that had hit its mark. Then cautiously he parted the branches of the bush and peeped down at the person in the river.
He, or rather she, was standing up now. There were definitely breasts, and a triangle of fine hair between the legs where there was… nothing! A woman. The Tari was a woman! Suddenly his mind was filled with a burning red mist.
By Mir, a woman! How dare she! That creature was playing him for a complete fool. He sat back on his heels, shaking with fury.
Mir! Great Mir, the shameless… That brazen… That unmitigated whore. Sitting there naked, washing her breasts quite openly with no thought of who might come. Going about dressed in a man's clothes, full of brazen opinions and judgments on him. On him! As if she was not flouting every natural law known. As if she had any right to have such opinions. Besmirching everything that was decent and honourable. The self-righteous, self-satisfied Yani. Sweet Mir, these native women had no shame. She deserved a damn good lesson. She deserved to be treated like the whore she obviously was. That would show her. That would teach her.
He was so furious he was not thinking straight. Suddenly he was afraid of what might happen if he saw her face-to-face. All those raw feelings. Realising that he - she - would be coming down the path soon, he got up and, crouching low, crept off into the trees.
He wandered around the woodlands, for some time, seething.
How dare she? How dare she? Behaving like that. Oh, he longed to teach her a lesson, but he had already cooled off enough to know that throwing himself on her was not the answer. He had no taste for such behaviour. He was too repelled by her to even want to touch her, much less intimately. Oh, horrible.
Finding himself again near the river but well out of sight of Yani, he sat down on the bank and splashed himself. The cool water helped him think more clearly. He itched to humiliate her as she had done him. He tried to think of some way he could use his magic. Of course he could injure her magically, but his father's upbringing stopped him.
Father had been the soul of chivalry. How would he have acted in this situation? He would have been flabbergasted, shocked, repelled that a woman could act so! If only he could somehow take her to Olbia and hand her over to the duke. But to just swallow the offence of her masquerade until they got there? Let her keep laughing up her sleeve at him? Oh no, he was still a man! He had to do something. He bitterly regretted the decency which had caused him to reject mindsearching her. Such a woman deserved no consideration. Maybe he could do it now.
Suddenly a wonderful thought came to him. He felt in his pouch and pulled out a pink crystal. Yes. This was the perfect solution. He could find out what he wanted and teach her a lesson at the same time. A crueller, more subtle lesson that would show the creature how decent men regarded women who set themselves up above their proper place. Something that would teach her a woman's place.
Pempus, the garrison skirt-chaser, had given him the crystal as a farewell gift. A generous gift really, for such things were expensive, not strictly legal and hard to get. Pempus had only one solution for all life's problems, and he had always thought Ezratah was far too serious. The little pink crystal contained a spell designed to make women love the holder or, in Pempus's case, make women agree to go to bed. The charm was of limited use. The charmed could not be made to do something they really believed to be wrong, which was why there was no point in using it on a decent Mirayan woman. Not that there were frequent chances to be that close to them. But a native woman, as everyone knew, was perfectly willing to have sex for the right price. Using a charm spell simply saved time and money. Ezratah had always secretly thought it rather distasteful and had no intention of putting it to such use. If he charmed Yani, however, she would happily tell him all her secrets and he would also work out some other way to humiliate her as she had humiliated him.
When to do it? He could leave it until they stopped for the night, but what if other travellers joined them or she shook him off? The thought of following that creature all day, of having to look at those uncovered legs and hide the fury that he still felt… No man could expect himself to undergo such torment. By Mir, he was going to enjoy teaching her the lesson she was asking for.
No time like the present! He would do it now. All he needed to do was touch her skin with the crystal and trigger it with a small touch of magic. The spell itself should be quite strong. The strength of Yani's adoration and the length it lasted would depend on how weak her resistance to magic was.
By the time he had reached the campsite Yani had returned. She was sitting on a rock beside her pack. Her slim, shapely legs encased in their dark hose were stretched out, filling him with fury again. They were so obviously women's legs, and her smooth, unbearded face, which he had simply thought a sign of her youth… She looked so feminine to him now.
'Where did you get to?' Yani asked as he came closer. 'There's some food here.' She got up to go to the fire.
'Oh, I've just been walking around,' he said casually.
'Well,