Hand of Fire (The Master of the Tane) Read Free

the hut she hurried through the crowd to the muddy path that led to the river beyond. The rumble of voices picked up again as she left but soon faded only to be replaced by the roar of the swollen river in the distance. 
                  “I still can’t get over the thought of two births in one night,” she muttered to the darkness.  “It’s unheard of. In all of my many years I can’t remember such a great event.” An owl’s nearby hoot suddenly startled her from her musings and brought her to an abrupt stop as she searched out its flight pattern. If it flew away from her it was a bad omen of evil things to come. If towards her, then she could expect good fortune. Minutes passed but revealed nothing of the elusive owl that should have been easy for any of her kind to spot in the night sky. “Oh dear Jen,” she whispered, as she continued on. “You must be getting old.” 
                  JenGua was both old and short by Chufa standards. She stood a mere five feet five inches but boasted four hundred and thirty-three years of life. She had lost the black hair of her youth to gray many years past and the point in her ears had also begun to droop but she was still very much alive and didn’t let anyone forget it. That is why she volunteered to fetch the water herself instead of sending one of her younger counterparts. She didn’t want anyone to think her unable to carry out her duties.  
                  Although aged and unable to catch sight of a fleeing owl, Jen’s old eyes were still tuned enough to the night vision inherent in all Chufa to allow her an easy stroll down the remaining sodden path to the river’s ragged edge. The water rushed by in a fury as the run-off from the mountains and the deluge from the storm caused the river to overthrow its banks in a flood of rage. Jen carefully set the lip of the bucket into the torrential waters and was almost swept in from the force of the current. Righting herself with an oath, she pulled the instantly filled container from the hungry water and quickly began the short journey back to the village. “You are getting old, fool woman,” she chided herself. “You almost met your death by the power of your own Tane. What would people think then? It’s a good thing no one was here to see you or you’d definitely be removed from your responsibilities.” Picking up her pace she berated herself more for taking so long. “Come on old bones, back to the village before they think you have drowned.” 
                  Jen quickly made her way back to the hut easily passing through the soaked mob of anxious onlookers who moved away to allow her through. Pausing at the door, she rung out the bottom of the thick cotton dress she wore that was typical of all Chufa women. It was a simple cut that extended just below her knees and would have appeared to swallow her if not for the tightly wound reed belt cinched at her waste gathering it in. In the darkness the color was muted to a dull gray but revealed itself as a faded violet when bathed in the warm light as she passed through the entrance.
    The hut was characteristic of others found in the village; it was round and plain and made from grasses found in abundance along the riverbed. As she entered she wiped her bare feet on the mat by the door and placed the full bucket of water near the fire situated in the middle of the room. Two other women were seated on the grass-matted floor attending LynTeh who was lying by the far wall with a blanket to cover her. She was clutched by another labor pain and screamed out as one of the women grabbed her hand to give some bit of comfort. Jen quickly dipped a cloth into the bucket and handed it to the other woman. “Here Gil, wipe her forehead with this.”
                  GilSagn grabbed the wet cloth and placed it on LynTeh’s forehead. “What news of Qal?”
                “The same as here it seems,” Jen