The Woman Who Rides Like a Man
one larger tent for the girls and one smaller one for Ishak. Oh, stop that!" she cried as they threw themselves on her, hugging her frantically.
    *
    After the evening meal, the apprentices went to furbish up their new homes, and Halef Seif came for Alanna. "The night is cool," he told her. "Will you go riding with me?" She didn't need to be asked twice.
    It took them a few moments to saddle their horses and tell the sentries which direction they planned to take. Once free of the village, Alanna drew a deep breath of relief. She could smell desert plants, dust, and horses—a dry, reassuring scent that told her more than anything else her life was very different these days.
    "I want them to sit with me at the campfire," she said abruptly, keeping her voice low in case predators, animal or human, were near. "That's their right as my apprentices, isn't it?"
    "Two of them are girls." There was little light with which to read his face, and his voice was bland.
    "I'm a girl, too."
    "I have noticed."
    Alanna suspected him of teasing her. "I don't care if they're three-headed toads," she whispered tartly. "They're all going to be shamans, and the tribe must learn to—"
    The Bazhir hissed for silence. Faithful was erect in his cup on Moonlight's saddle, his fur standing up, his tail lashing. Alanna tuned her ears to the night sounds and heard it—rock falling against rock as men made their way through the small gorge just below. Soundlessly she and Halef Seif dismounted; with a touch, she made Faithful stay put. She followed the man to the edge of the gorge where they flattened themselves on the ground, peering over.
    Her eyes had adjusted to the moonless night, and now she could see the shadowy forms of five hillmen stealing along the ground below her. One tripped on a rock and cursed softly while his companions hushed him; Alanna sneered, knowing she would have received months of punishment duty if she had made such a mistake even as a page.
    "Raiders looking for our herds." Halef's breath stirred the hair by her ear; had she been a few inches further away she could not have heard him. "I think we will not disturb the guards." He made as if to rise, then flattened himself beside her once more. "Some light would be useful—shaman." He was smiling.
    Swiftly Alanna reached inside herself, finding that small bit of fire that always burned deep where only she could find it. She drew the fire out, feeling a rush of excitement as it grew swiftly to meet her need. Violet-colored light burst from her palm, making everything brighter. The hillmen yelped, shielding their eyes. Halef Seif scrambled down into the gorge, screaming war cries. Pressed for time and needing both hands, Alanna looked around frantically. Spotting a stone, she pointed at it and gave her magic the command. She didn't know if it could be done, but there was no time to think. The violet fire streamed into the big rock, filling it as it had filled her. For a moment it seemed to flicker and die—then it became part of the stone, a huge beacon shining on the battleground below.
    "Tortall and the King!" Alanna cried, following Halef Seif. She drew the crystal sword, feeling its ominous humming in her hand. Once more its magic reached out, seeking ways to take over her purpose, but Alanna was concentrating only on the hillmen attacking Halef Seif. She set her jaw and held on, mentally telling the sword, Stop that.
    Two of them saw her and attacked, one with an axe, the other with a broadsword. She ducked under the swing of the axe-man and came up inside, running him through. For an instant sick, black triumph roared up into her mind. She froze, knowing the sword's magic was turning her fierce pride in being the better fighter into an ugly joy at killing. She trembled, fighting the desire to run the man through again and again, until Halef Seif yelled her name. She whirled in time to catch a descending broadsword on the crystal sword's hilt. The other sword was bigger and

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