Free The Shattered Chain by Marion Zimmer Bradley Page A

long, far too arduous for any pregnant woman. Melora had not complained; Rohana had the chilling sense that she had ceased to care. She seemed to have expended all the effort of which she was capable in making the original contact with Rohana that had resulted in her rescue; that accomplished, it seemed to Rohana that Melora no longer cared. She had not even asked any further questions about her home, about their kin, about what lay ahead when they should leave the Dryland country and return to the Domains.
    The sun descended, a great blood-colored orb, blurred at the horizon with the first clouds Rohana had seen since they crossed the river at Carthon. Kindra, riding ahead, stopped to let Rohana come up with her, and pointed to the purpled sunset. She said, “Those clouds hang over Carthon; and beyond Carthon we are in the Domains again. Even if Jalak came so far, he would have to come with an army. Safety lies there. How does the Lady Melora?”
    “Not well, I fear,” Rohana said soberly, and Kindra nodded.
    “For her sake I shall be glad when we cross the river and we can travel at a pace more fitting her condition. It goes against me, to force the pace this way, but there is no safety for any of us in this country.”
    “I know,” Rohana said, “and I am sure Melora understands. She knows, better than any of us, the dangers for women of the Domains, here in the Dry Towns.”
    Kindra said, “Well, we will make camp yonder”—she pointed to one of the great black tumuli of rock, up thrust like jagged teeth against the low horizon—”and there, if the Goddess is good to us, we will cook some hot food, and perhaps even wash the dust from our faces.”
    “Do you know every water hole in this territory, Kindra?”
    The woman shook her head. “I have never traveled here before, but I can see the kyorebni circling as they do only over water. And tomorrow before midday perhaps we will ford the river, and be safe in Carthon.” She grimaced. “I am hungry for hot roast meat and good hot soup instead of this unending porridge and dried meat and fruit, and some fresh-baked bread instead of hardtack.”
    “Me too,” Rohana said, “and I shall stand surety for the best meal we can buy in the best cook shop in Carthon, believe me, once we cross the river!”
    Kindra looked back and said slowly, “Pray to your Goddess, Lady, that domna Melora is able to enjoy that meal. Ride back to her, Lady Rohana, and reassure her that we will make camp just a little farther on. She seems almost ready to fall from her saddle.” Her face, in the gathering darkness, was deeply troubled.
    Rohana did as she was bidden, sighing. It seemed that never in her life had she known such prolonged and incessant fatigue. The thought of sleeping in a bed under a roof, eating hot, fresh-cooked food, bathing in a hot tub of scented water, comforts she had taken so much for granted that she never even thought about them, made her whole body ache with an almost sensuous longing.
    She supposed the Amazons would think such longings soft and weak. Well, she would show them that she could endure hard living if she must; she was Comynara and she would be strong as any man of her caste. But she wished there were a few comforts for Melora.
    Melora was riding next to Fat Rima; as Rohana neared them the big Amazon lowered her voice and said, “Look to your kinswoman, Lady. No, she has not complained, but I earned my bread for a time as a midwife in the Lake Country, and she has a look to her that I do not like.”
    It’s good to know there is a midwife among us, at least. Rohana drew her horse even with Melora’s; Melora raised her head, slowly and wearily, and her look shocked Rohana. Her face was swollen, with a dull pallor; even her tight lips were colorless. She tried to smile at Rohana, but could not quite manage it. Her face contracted in a sudden spasm of pain, and Rohana knew at once what her kinswoman had been trying to conceal.
    “Breda, you are