The Woman Who Rides Like a Man Read Free

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