The Woman Who Rides Like a Man (2 page)

One of the riders, a Bazhir head and shoulders taller than most of his companions, brought his horse forward, peering at Alanna's face intently. Suddenly he nodded with satisfaction. "She is the one!" He exclaimed. "Halef, she is the Burning-Brightly One!"

"Speak on, Gammal," Halef ordered.

The huge warrior was bowing as low to Alanna as his saddle would permit. "Would you remember me?" he asked hopefully. "I was at the smallest west gate in the stone village, that northerners call Persopolis. It was six rainy seasons ago. Your master, the Blue-Eyed One, bought my silence with a gold coin."

Remembering, Alanna grinned. "Of course! And you spat on the coin and bit it."

The big man looked at his chief. "She is the one! She came with the Blue-Eyed Prince, the Night One, and they freed us from the Black City!" He made the Sign against Evil close to his chest. "I let them through the gate that morning!"

Halef frowned as he watched Alanna. "Is this so?"

Alanna shrugged. "Prince Jonathan and I went to the Black City, yes," she admitted. "And we fought with the Ysandir—the Nameless Ones," she said hurriedly as the men muttered uneasily. "And we beat them. It wasn't easy."

A skinny man wearing the green robes of a Bazhir shaman, or petty wizard, threw back his hood. His scraggly beard thrust forward on a sallow chin. "She lies!" he cried, putting his horse between Alanna and the tribesmen. "The Burning-Brightly One and the Night One rode into the sky in a chariot of fire when the Nameless Ones perished. This all men know!"

"They rode back to the stone village, on horses," Gammal replied stubbornly. "And the mare ridden by the Burning-Brightly One was even as this one now—the color of sand, with a mane and tail like the clouds."

While the Bazhir argued among themselves, Coram drew near his mistress. "Now what've ye gone an' done?" he asked softly.

"I think it's more a question of what Jon and I did," Alanna whispered back. "I told you about going to the Black City, didn't I? We fought demons there, and Jon found out I was really a girl. It was six years ago."

"If I'd known I'd be ridin' with a legend, I'd've thought twice about comin' along," Coram grumbled.

"Silence!" Halef ordered them all. He looked at Alanna. "For the moment, let us accept that you are a warrior of the Northern King, Woman Who Rides Like a Man. Your shield is proof of that. As headman of the Bloody Hawk, I invite you to share our fire this night."

Alanna eyed the tall Bazhir, wondering,
Do I have a choice?
Finally she bowed. "We are honored by your invitation. Certainly we could not think of refusing."

*

The tent she and Coram were given to share was large and airy, well-stocked with comfortable pillows and rugs. Alanna flopped down, thinking of what she had seen of the village itself. A rough count of the tents indicated the Bloody Hawk encompassed at least twenty families. Some of the bachelors would live apart from their parents in a single large tent. The shaman, the man wearing the burnoose tied with green cord, had vanished into the largest tent in the village; from what her teacher Sir Myles had taught her, his dwelling would double as the tribe's temple.

Her reverie was interrupted by three young members of the tribe. Two wore the face veil all Bazhir women put on when they began their women's cycles of monthly bleeding. The taller girl balanced a tray of food and wine. Carefully she placed it on the ground between Coram and Alanna as the other girl and a tall, handsome boy stared at the guests.

"We have never seen a woman with light eyes," the boy said abruptly. "Did the water that falls from the sky in the north wash all the color away?"

"Of course it didn't, Ishak," the smaller girl retorted. "How would her eyes be purple, then?"

"Ishak! Kourrem! Hush!" the girl who had carried the tray snapped. She bowed very low to Alanna and Coram. "Forgive my friends. They forget that they have been made adults of the tribe." She glared at her friends. "I let you come with me because you promised not to say anything. You broke your word!"

"I didn't swear it by my ancestors," the boy called Ishak said virtuously.

"Will your cat let me pet him?" Kourrem, the smaller girl, asked Alanna. "His eyes are purple, too. He is very handsome. Is he your brother, who was turned into a cat by great sorcery?"

Faithful, looking smug over the praise, sauntered over to the visitors, letting them pet and admire him. Alanna smiled at their guess that she and Faithful were related somehow. Many others had wondered about the fact that she and the cat had the same eye color.

"No," she replied, pouring wine for Coram and herself. "Faithful is just a cat. My brother is a sorcerer, but he is still shaped as a human—or he was when I saw him last."

"I am Kara," the tall girl announced. "I am to serve you until your fate is decided by the tribe. And now we should go," she admitted reluctantly. "We weren't supposed to stay long. Akhnan Ibn Nazzir says you will corrupt us if we are not careful."

Alanna and Coram exchanged worried glances. "Who is this—" Coram made a face at his inability to remember the harsh Bazhir name. "The one who says we'll corrupt ye?"

"Akhnan Ibn Nazzir," Ishak said from the doorway. "The shaman. He says you are demons who have come to try our faith."

Kourrem crossed her eyes. "Ibn Nazzir is an old stick with a beard like weeds."

Shocked, Kara ushered the three from the tent. Coram shook his head worriedly. "I don't like the smell of this," he admitted. "D'ye think there's anything we can do?"

Alanna was rolling herself up in an embroidered throw. "
I
plan to take a nap." She yawned. "Until the tribe decides what to do with us, we can't do a thing." Within moments she was fast asleep, Faithful curled up beside her nose.

Coram was working on his third cup of date wine when Halef Seif looked into the tent. "She looks softer when she sleeps," he commented quietly. "When she awakes, tell her the tribe will decide your fate before the evening meal, at the campfire. I will send for you."

Coram nodded and finished his wine. Alanna was right; there was little they could do now. Making himself comfortable, he took a nap of his own.

*

The last streaks of sunlight were fading in the west when Alanna woke from her nap. Coram was still asleep, snoring lightly, and Faithful had vanished. Yawning and stretching, she stepped outside to find the village oddly still, as if it had been deserted. She would have gone to explore when Ishak—who was crouched beside the doorway of her tent—caught at her pant leg. Covering his lips with a warning finger, he led her back into the tent.

"It is the Moment of the Voice," he explained when they were inside. Coram was smoothing his sleep-ruffled hair. "All adults in the tribe must be present, but I was told to attend you." He looked up as voices sounded outside. "It is over, and soon they will call you. I will take you to them.

"Aren't ye afraid we'll corrupt ye?" Coram asked kindly.

The boy shook his head. "Halef Seif says only the man who wishes to be corrupted will fall into evil ways. Halef Seif is wise in the ways of men."

"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 amethyst-trimmed 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.

The arguing began, with the shaman speaking next. Alanna wasn't surprised to hear him accuse her of blasphemy against the gods for her manner of dress and her way of life—some of the priests at the royal palace had said much the same, when her true identity had been revealed. Gammal followed the shaman, once again telling the story of the strange events at the Black City, six years before.

One tall Bazhir named Hakim Fahrar spoke of the penalty owed to any outsiders: death. And others in the tribe asked for moderation, saying that people who did not change with new times were doomed to extinction. The debate went on and on while Faithful took a nap. If her life and Coram's had not been at stake, Alanna would have been bored by the long speeches. As it was, she felt a growing respect for Halef Seif's insistence on hearing each man's opinion. It was not the first time she had noticed the great concern the Bazhir people had for the right of all to speak out (in some matters even the women had a say, she discovered later), but it would not be the last.