Dave Smeds: The Sorcery Within

Alemar sighed. "This is not what people in my homeland believe."

"Your people are wrong," Fumlok replied. It was the first time the little man had seemed certain of anything. "They know it in their hearts. Do you make soldiers of your women?"

"Not often," Alemar admitted. "But they are permitted to protect themselves. My sister would have died before now otherwise – today, in fact."

"That was a mistake. If she dress as a woman, she is not attacked."

"What does it matter who's right?" Elenya said sharply. "We're in trouble, and it's too late to do a thing about it."

"No, you are safe, maybe."

Eyebrows raised on both twins' faces. "What do you mean?" Elenya asked. The comment had seemed all the more intriguing because, at last, Fumlok had addressed Elenya to her person.

"This morning, Lonal save you by invokingniutap. It is adoption ritual. War-leaders have right to do this. If a widow is made in battle, the killer should take care of her. Niutapalso brings new blood to T'lil."

"How can you trust us?" Elenya interjected.

Fumlok held his finger up. "War-leader takes risk. He is responsible until elders accept his choice. Later, you are educated, and you are blamed if you disobey. For now, Lonal is embarrassed if you offend the laws of the So-de'es. His honor is dirtied. This is bad to happen at this time."

Alemar sucked a contemplative mouthful of wine. "Are you saying that Lonal will be punished for Elenya being a woman? And that she won't be?"

Fumlok gave one of his nervous smiles. "If Lonal is punished, she is punished, too. Both. But…maybe Lonal is not punished. Maybe his honor is saved."

"How?"

A cloud covered the Zyraii's expression. "I don't know."

The twins tried to draw him out, but Fumlok wouldn't say more. If anything, he seemed anxious that he had spoken in the first place. Wine and dates bridged the awkward moments until Alemar thought of more questions.

"We're not really members of the tribe yet," Alemar stated.

Fumlok drew his glance back from the stitches of the tent walls. "No. You must learn laws and rituals. And you must endure the rite of manhood. Then you are T'lil warriors. And if you prove your honor, then maybe you arehai-Zyraii."

"If we did all this, could my sister and I go to Setan?"

Fumlok stared back. "No. I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Setan is holy. It is a sacred ground reserved for the training of the ken. The Bo-no-ken, the Zee-no-ken, and the Hab-no-ken go there to be tested. Warriors must have a special reason to visit, and must get permission."

"How are the ken tested?" Elenya said suddenly.

"That is for the ken to know. I only know that those with weak wills do not survive."

More he would not reveal. His demeanor turned morose, and shortly thereafter he left them for the night, warning them that they must not leave the tent.

"We should have come to the country dressed as priests," Alemar said glumly, after their interpreter had gone.

"We should have come as dune eagles," Elenya suggested. "Then we could have flown above these madmen." She rose and opened the flaps of the entrance. A heavyset Zyraii warrior stood a few paces away. Elenya didn't bother to step out. "We could have flown out of this camp, too."

Omi entered to remove the clay bowls, timorous face constantly pointed toward the ground, except for an instant when she met Elenya's gaze and looked away immediately. She hurried off, as if stung.

Elenya shuddered. "If I have to become like her to live among these people, I won't live among these people."

"I have a feeling we may be lucky if we're allowed to live at all. We seem to be committing all sorts of mortal sins just by existing."

"We're trapped," she murmured. She drew a rapier, as if to skewer her invisible captor. Omi glanced out around the partition and ducked away again, eyes wide. "I feel like trying to escape now, and damn the chances."

Wistfully she sheathed her weapon. She was more impulsive than her brother, but she liked realistic challenges. Time might be the only thing on their side.

"Tell me, is this whatyou expected?" she asked.

"No."

Further conversation was equally pointless. Soon Alemar was sagging, eyelids helpless against the tug of gravity. The hard days in the eret-Zyraii, and now this evening, had exhausted him. She sat behind him, placing his head on her lap. He fell asleep rapidly, and would not wake, she guessed, until the night died. She stroked his hair pensively, unable to equal his tranquility.

Eventually, Peyri emerged with a goatskin flask, and gestured inquisitively to Elenya, who shook her head. Alemar had started to snore softly. Peyri disappeared, to return a moment later, taper in hand, and cross the room to open curtains Elenya had not previously seen past, revealing sleeping compartments. It took little imagination to realize whose they had been and whose they were now.

Peyri returned to the women's side of the tent. This was a section forbidden to men, as the twins had discovered when Alemar tried to enter. The boy shared that side. Soon the glow of the lamps through the woolen drapes was extinguished, and not long after the rustle of waking activity faded away.

Elenya ignored the offer of the bed. Not only did her skin crawl to think of sleeping in those blankets, but the woven straw mats that served as mattresses for the Zyraii seemed much too luxurious to her, after the desert's bosom.

She was listening to Alemar's serene breathing when she heard a deep, threatening boom. She felt it through the sand under the hides. It set her heart to pumping loudly. But no noise came from the women's side, and the camp beyond the walls raised no alarm. Gradually her uneasy meditation resumed.

She imagined islands and coastlines, a warm, shallow, beckoning sea. Ships plied its waters, buildings rose around its harbors, and beneath the surface, men lived. Majestic edifices and an empire without peer stood in homage to one man's power and dream.

And in the sky above, a dragon hovered, patient and amused.

"Oh, my father, we have failed you," Elenya murmured.

THE TRIBESMEN OVERFLOWEDthe great tent even before all of those permitted to enter had done so, and many had to be content to listen at the flaps. In the inner circle, the clan's ten Ah-no-ken ringed the traditional silver brazier, which glowed with a low, almost heatless flame of ibsinthe oil. Toltac and Jathmir, the two Bo-no-ken, conducted the gathering. Lonal stood across the brazier from them. At the tent walls, several dozen Po-no-pha had managed to crowd within. The body odor in the air was like a solid wall.

Lonal's second, R'lar, had just finished recounting the story of how they had found Alemar and Elenya. The crowd maintained utter silence, not daring to murmur in front of the two high priests. A nod from Jathmir allowed R'lar to sit.

A long pause followed. The Bo-no-ken sat impassively, their austerity and authority settling over every person in the room. Lonal waited obediently, feeling the cloth under his arms grow damp.

Eventually Jathmir spoke, his voice soft yet easily audible throughout the tent. "Simple matters first. You agree with R'lar that Am, Roel, and Quom acted upon their own decision?"

"They were on point, yes, and chose to attack by themselves, rather than wait for the support of the entire patrol."

Jathmir frowned. "The desert breeds both smart men and dead men. So be it. These strangers – Tebec and Yetem – shall not be blamed for the casualties."

Lonal bowed his head, not to Jathmir, but to Toltac. Though the former acted as spokesman, the latter had the final authority. Toltac was the opsib, high priest not simply of the clan but the entire tribe, and deferred only to the High Scholar at Setan.