“Wiser than your shaman?” Alanna asked.
“Akhnan Ibn Nazzir is an old desert hen,” the boy said scornfully. “His magic hurts more than it helps.” He looked eagerly at Alanna. “Ibn Nazzir says you are a sorceress from the North. Will you teach me your sorcery? Look! Already I know a little!” Reaching out, he concentrated on the ball of reddish fire growing at his fingertips.
Alanna knocked his hand away, breaking Ishak’s concentration. “I know nothing of magic,” she said harshly. “And I want to know nothing of magic. The Gift only leads to pain and death.”
Kara peered in the doorway and bowed. “Ishak, help our guests to get ready,” she commanded. She swallowed hard, looking at Alanna. “Will you need help, Woman Who Rides Like a Man?”
Alanna smiled. “Thank you, Kara, I can manage for myself.”
The girl bowed again. “Ishak will bring you to the central fire when you are ready,” she said before letting the tent flap fall.
Coram was already breaking open one of Alanna’s saddlebags, bringing out her mail shirt and leggings. Ishak gasped with admiration, touching the gold-washed armor with reverent fingers. Alanna had been given the mail by her friends on her eighteenth birthday. Although she had plain steel mail to wear, this was specially made for her and particularly light. She fastened the amethysttrimmed belt at her waist, removing the sheaths for sword and dagger. It would not be polite to go armed, and it still hurt to look at Lightning. She hooked gauntlets decorated with her lioness rampant design into her belt and nodded to Coram. ”I’ll wait for you two outside,” she said casually. “I need to think.”
She was actually responding to Faithful’s soft hiss just outside the tent. She went to stand beside her pet, scanning the rapidly falling darkness. “What do you want?” she whispered. “We have these people to—”
Shadows moved against the night, and she froze. Akhnan Ibn Nazzir was leading a horse into the darkness. “Now, what do you suppose he’s up to?” Alanna asked Faithful. “D’you think he means trouble for us?”
Yes, the cat replied. He was asking the young ones who came into your tent what you had of value. I don’t think he asked because he means well.
Alanna sighed and followed Ishak and Coram to the campfire. Wasn’t life difficult enough without earning the enmity of a Bazhir shaman?
She was given the place on Halef Seif’s right, with Coram beside her and Faithful settling down in front of her crossed legs. As the men of the tribe settled into the great circle formed by the firelight, Alanna took a closer look at Halef Seif. With his burnoose off his head, the headman looked to be in his late thirties. He was hook-nosed and lean; sharp lines were drawn from his nostrils to the corners of his thin mouth. A man who’s seen a lot of life, Alanna decided.
The women of the tribe watched from behind the men, their eyes glittering over their face veils. Alanna tried to keep her nervousness hidden; she wanted to make friends of these people, and she had no way of knowing if they wanted to make a friend of her. A flicker of green caught her attention, and she turned with the others to watch the shaman take his place opposite Halef Seif. He looked pleased with himself. Something told Alanna he had been up to mischief.
Halef raised his voice so everyone could hear. “There are two voices in our tribe. One speaks for the acceptance of the intruders, saying they are a sacred one and the servant of a sacred one, deserving honor at our hands. One calls for their deaths, saying they are the servants of the King in the North, and that women must not act as men. By our custom, the strangers must hear each voice and answer. So it has always been. Before others speak, I will say what I must say. I am headman of the Bloody Hawk: this is my right.
“I do not know that this woman is the Burning-Brightly One who came with the Night One to free us from the Black City. She claims to serve the King in the North, and he is our enemy. Yet she came here in peace until the hillmen attacked her. Then she fought well. She and her servant killed many of the hillmen, who are our foes.
“She rides as a man, goes unveiled as a man, fights as a man. Let her prove herself worthy as a man, worthy of her weapons and of our friendship”. Finished, he bowed his dark head.