When Ishak opened his mouth to reply, Alanna swiftly tied a second knot. The carpet stopped its mad journey, coming to a halt directly over Ishak’s head. “While I have your attention,” Alanna went on, “I’d like to say a few things about thread magic. I’ve never used it; I learned what I know from our village healing-woman, when I was young, and from the palace Healers. I do know that a woman with a bit of string in her hands can bring down a troop of armed knights, if her will is strong enough. Men—Healers, mostly—use thread magic, too; but women acquire it more easily. I guess that’s because most women know how to weave and spin and sew. You owe your fellow apprentices an apology, Ishak.”
She loosened the second knot, and the carpet began to lower itself onto Ishak’s head. “You can’t treat Kara and Kourrem as the men of the tribe treat the women. These women are your equals. What they do—what they learn—is just as important as what you do and learn. Frankly, in some areas they’re better at it than you are.”
She untied the first knot, and the carpet whisked itself around the tent, stopping in front of Ishak this time. Alanna undid what remained of the second knot, and the carpet trembled. “You’re in its way,” she told the young man. Startled, he moved aside, and the carpet settled gently into its former spot. “I hope I’ve made myself clear.”
Ishak gasped, his eyes alight with discovery. “Will you teach me how to do that?” he demanded. “I want to learn—women’s magic or not!”
A hand painfully squeezed Alanna’s heart: for a moment he sounded exactly like her willful brother. “I believe I mentioned an apology.”
“I’m sorry,” Ishak told the two girls. “I keep forgetting.”
Kara was looking at the thread in Alanna’s hands with awe. “You mean Kourrem and I could do magic while we are weaving and sewing? Just by making knots?”
Alanna sighed, suddenly feeling tired and old. “I’ll teach all of you in the morning,” she promised. “For now, let’s turn in.”
Obedient as always, they left, chattering eagerly. Once they were gone, Faithful jumped onto Alanna’s left shoulder (his favorite perching-spot). That was an interesting display of temper, he commented. Why don’t you pick on someone who can fight back?
“He’s got to learn,” Alanna replied, dousing the lamps. “Otherwise he’s going to insult some little old wrinkled lady shaman who will tie him in knots.”
Perhaps, the cat replied.
“Not just ’perhaps,’” Alanna demurred. “You know as well as I do that there are traps for sorcerers in the strangest places. At least I know I mean no harm. Someone else might not be kind.”
You won’t always be able to stand between another person and his fate, Faithful warned. You mustn’t think you can look after the world.
Alanna chuckled and tugged her pet’s long black tail. “Who will look after it if I don’t?”
Faithful gave a disgusted mutter and stuck his cold nose into her ear, surprising a laugh from her.
To the new lessons in knot magic, Alanna added the names and powers of herbs, stones, and metals. Ishak and Kara complained about the added memorization, but they studied hard. Ishak now kept Alanna up at night; he was quicker than the other two, and he had a feel for the Gift, but his eagerness to learn dangerous things frightened her. He did not have the self-discipline of the girls. Was it because he had been more accepted by the tribe? Often Alanna caught him staring at her crystal sword; she feared one day he would ignore her command and try to wield it.
As an apprentice weaver, Alanna was all thumbs; the girls were baffled. She reminded herself that she had not been even a passable swordsman when she first began to train; but such thoughts didn’t soothe her hurt pride. Making things worse was the fact that there was no way she could teach Kourrem the advanced skills the girl lacked.
“I can’t do it!” Kourrem cried while working one night. A mass of knotted threads, like a giant spider, sat on her loom. “I’m stupid and ignorant—”
“You lost track of the pattern,” a dry voice said from the opening that led to the temple part of the tent. Alanna and her apprentices turned to stare at the tiny old woman who stood there. Alanna recognized her. Halef Seif had pointed Hakim’s mother out to her before, the woman Kourrem said was the tribe’s finest weaver.
The old lady lifted an unlit stick of incense. “I was about to pay my respects to the Mother when I overheard,” she explained. Walking forward, she thrust the incense at Alanna. “Hold this.” She joined Kourrem at the big loom. “See? Here—and here— you broke the pattern. And here.” She inspected the remainder of Kourrem’s work as the girl clutched Kara’s arm. “Hm. Not bad for someone without much formal teaching. A tight, even weave.” Kourrem beamed at the praise. Perhaps the first she’s had from a woman of the tribe in years, Alanna thought.