
be dead at the hillmen's swords if you had not come? They took my sword from
me." She swallowed hard and said recklessly, "What is a sword? I have my axe,
and my dagger, and my spear. I have Coram Smythesson to watch my back, as I
watch his."
"Big words from a small woman," Halef Seif remarked. There was no way for
Alanna
to read his expression.
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