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status here in my world.”
    “Freedom?” Kalie tasted the word on her tongue. “That means… what? That you would buy me from Maalke?” Riyik nodded. “Then marry me according to the customs of your people?”
    Again Riyik nodded. “I cannot promise you love, as Aahken women are so fond of hearing a man speak of. I still love Yalina, my wi—Yarik’s mother. Yet you do not seem interested in love as our women do. Is that yet another difference between our women and yours? You do not dream of love in marriage?”
    Kalie smiled. “No. Strangely, both our worlds speak a great deal of love, in stories and songs. But here, women dream that a man’s love that will save them from the misery that is a woman’s life. Among my people…it is very different. I can’t explain it. We have love—it is your notion of marriage we do not have.”
    To her further amazement, Riyik laughed. “I might have known! And whatever your notions of love, you, I think, will never love anything in this land. Although, perhaps, over time, you may come to. Perhaps, if we had children of our own…”
    Kalie wanted to spit in his face for those last words, yet to her surprise, found she could not. This man, and yes, she had to see him as a man, not a beast, was opening up to her and, of all strange things, trying to be kind and helpful. To pay him back with cruelty would be of this world, not her own.
    “I cannot marry you, Riyik.” The words were out before she knew it, but as soon as she said them, she knew they were right.
    Riyik stared at her in shock, as Kalie had stared at him just moments before. “Why not?”
    “Because you are my enemy!” This was not the right way to explain. Strangely, it might not even be true.
    An image danced before her eyes: Kestra lying with her “husband”; welcoming his embrace, despite all she had seen and endured. Is that how it happened in this world? Would she, herself, strike such a bargain with Riyik?
    In that moment, Kalie was certain of one thing: if she ran to this man for protection, like some princess in one of their tales; if she let herself be lulled by his kindness into accepting his people’s ideas of marriage and family, she would lose her way forever. And one day, years from now, while she was busy trying to convince herself she hadn’t betrayed her people or herself—her world would fall to these conquerors.
    She had to find a way to explain.
    “Riyik.” If he was offended by her familiar use of his name, he didn’t show it. Even her habit of looking directly into his eyes brought no anger. “You offered me my freedom?”
    “Yes!” He nodded emphatically.
    “Do you mean that once you buy me from Maalke, I will be free to return to my people in the west if I choose? That you will give me provisions—and let me go?”
    “No, of course not! You would die out there! Or be taken as a slave by one of the other tribes! Look what happened just a few days ago…”
    “Then what you offer is just another kind of slavery.” Even now, he did not seem angry, so much as exasperated. Kalie held up a hand for silence and pressed on. “I know you see a world of difference between being a slave and being a wife. I know Yalina did as well, and so do most of the women here.
    “But for me—for all of the women of my land—the difference is slight. Being a wife might mean freedom from Altia and her beatings and curses. It might mean better food and, within your tent, at least, a little bit of power—especially if you brought me slaves to rule over.” Her face twisted angrily as she spat out the last words.
    Riyik cocked his head at her expression. “You hate the thought of owning slaves. Why? Most women dream of having slaves to help them with the work of the tent.”
    “Most women here also enjoy beating them. I pray I shall never sink to that level! I think the wives of this land enjoy hurting those beneath them much more than they enjoy getting help with the endless drudgery they