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 Kourrem and Ishak 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.”