The Woman Who Rides Like a Man by Tamora Pierce Page A
Authors: Tamora Pierce
Tags: General, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Children's Fiction, Girls & Women, Royalty, Legends; Myths; Fables
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become the greatest such school in existence. Even priests from the City of the Gods will come, even the warrior-sorcerers of Carthak."
Alanna stared at the Voice of the Tribes. He had that misty, far-seeing look in his dark eyes that privately gave her the crawls. "You knew this school was going to happen?" she gasped. "And you never said anything?"
He smiled and puffed on his long-stemmed pipe. "I have learned—as all who would become the Voice must learn—to keep my silence about the future. It will happen without my help."
Alanna snorted, and thought about it for long silent moments. At last she pointed out, "I still haven't gotten Kara and Kourrem to leave off their face veils." She didn't discuss it with the girls any longer because it was a subject they could not agree on.
"They are right," Mukhtab pointed out. "They have overcome too many old ideas, but this one they can never change. A woman without a veil is a woman of bad repute among the tribes. Good women may not speak to her, and good men may not know her."
Alanna thought of the women of the Court of the Rogue and sighed. "That's sad. Some of the most intelligent women I knew as I was growing up were prostitutes. I didn't know many noble ladies well, you see." Suddenly the ground beneath her trembled, and she looked up. "Visitors? At this hour?"
Grinning, Mukhtab knocked the ashes from his pipe into the fire. "I think you will like these visitors."
They emerged from the tent to find the tribesmen gathered around the newcomers. These were five: two riders from the tribe, a man-at-arms in Barony Olau colors, and—to Alanna's joy—Myles of Olau and Prince Jonathan.
*
Somehow she greeted the guests and introduced them to the headman, the Voice, the visiting shamans, and the apprentices. Jonathan captivated Kourrem, while Kara watched Myles with awe-widened eyes. Once the knight smiled at her, saying, "There's a dancing bear in Corus who's almost as shaggy as I am." Kara blushed beneath her veil and fled.
The noblemen greeted Alanna and Coram with warmth, reaching across carefully maintained distances to shake hands.
A guest-tent was prepared for the newcomers; but somehow, when it came time to retire, the Prince followed Alanna to her home. Once inside the tent, they were alone—even Faithful had found someplace else to be.
For long moments they stared at each other: the short, red-headed, violet-eyed woman in a Bazhir's pale blue robe, its hood thrust back from her hair, and the tall, broad-shouldered young man, his hair coal-black, his eyes a brilliant sapphire blue. He wore serviceable tan breeches and a cotton shirt beneath a tunic of his favorite royal blue, but only a blind man would not have seen his royal heritage.
"I didn't want to disgrace you in front of the tribesmen," he said at last, his deep voice making her shiver happily. "Myles said women don't touch men in public."
"No," she replied, twisting her hands in her robe.
Awkward, he tried again. "I'm going to be here for a while. Ali Mukhtab says there's much I have to learn."
"Do their Majesties know where you are?"
He shrugged. "They know I'm with Myles. I told them I had to get away from the court. I'm tired of people fawning all over me." He smiled. "No one argues with me, now that you're gone."
Trouble by the arrogant tone of his voice and the flash of pride in his eyes, she asked, "Is that the only reason you came? To get away from home?"
"Of course not." Suddenly he swore. Covering the space between them in two great strides, he seized her and held her tight, burying his face in her shoulder. Alanna threw her arms around his neck. This was the Jonathan she loved.
Her forced her to look at him. "I missed you so much," he whispered. He kissed her fiercely. She returned the kiss, feeling heat rush through her at his touch. He bore her down to her sleeping mat; in the time that followed, they knew they still desired each other.
Afterward, Alanna got up to blow out the
Alanna stared at the Voice of the Tribes. He had that misty, far-seeing look in his dark eyes that privately gave her the crawls. "You knew this school was going to happen?" she gasped. "And you never said anything?"
He smiled and puffed on his long-stemmed pipe. "I have learned—as all who would become the Voice must learn—to keep my silence about the future. It will happen without my help."
Alanna snorted, and thought about it for long silent moments. At last she pointed out, "I still haven't gotten Kara and Kourrem to leave off their face veils." She didn't discuss it with the girls any longer because it was a subject they could not agree on.
"They are right," Mukhtab pointed out. "They have overcome too many old ideas, but this one they can never change. A woman without a veil is a woman of bad repute among the tribes. Good women may not speak to her, and good men may not know her."
Alanna thought of the women of the Court of the Rogue and sighed. "That's sad. Some of the most intelligent women I knew as I was growing up were prostitutes. I didn't know many noble ladies well, you see." Suddenly the ground beneath her trembled, and she looked up. "Visitors? At this hour?"
Grinning, Mukhtab knocked the ashes from his pipe into the fire. "I think you will like these visitors."
They emerged from the tent to find the tribesmen gathered around the newcomers. These were five: two riders from the tribe, a man-at-arms in Barony Olau colors, and—to Alanna's joy—Myles of Olau and Prince Jonathan.
*
Somehow she greeted the guests and introduced them to the headman, the Voice, the visiting shamans, and the apprentices. Jonathan captivated Kourrem, while Kara watched Myles with awe-widened eyes. Once the knight smiled at her, saying, "There's a dancing bear in Corus who's almost as shaggy as I am." Kara blushed beneath her veil and fled.
The noblemen greeted Alanna and Coram with warmth, reaching across carefully maintained distances to shake hands.
A guest-tent was prepared for the newcomers; but somehow, when it came time to retire, the Prince followed Alanna to her home. Once inside the tent, they were alone—even Faithful had found someplace else to be.
For long moments they stared at each other: the short, red-headed, violet-eyed woman in a Bazhir's pale blue robe, its hood thrust back from her hair, and the tall, broad-shouldered young man, his hair coal-black, his eyes a brilliant sapphire blue. He wore serviceable tan breeches and a cotton shirt beneath a tunic of his favorite royal blue, but only a blind man would not have seen his royal heritage.
"I didn't want to disgrace you in front of the tribesmen," he said at last, his deep voice making her shiver happily. "Myles said women don't touch men in public."
"No," she replied, twisting her hands in her robe.
Awkward, he tried again. "I'm going to be here for a while. Ali Mukhtab says there's much I have to learn."
"Do their Majesties know where you are?"
He shrugged. "They know I'm with Myles. I told them I had to get away from the court. I'm tired of people fawning all over me." He smiled. "No one argues with me, now that you're gone."
Trouble by the arrogant tone of his voice and the flash of pride in his eyes, she asked, "Is that the only reason you came? To get away from home?"
"Of course not." Suddenly he swore. Covering the space between them in two great strides, he seized her and held her tight, burying his face in her shoulder. Alanna threw her arms around his neck. This was the Jonathan she loved.
Her forced her to look at him. "I missed you so much," he whispered. He kissed her fiercely. She returned the kiss, feeling heat rush through her at his touch. He bore her down to her sleeping mat; in the time that followed, they knew they still desired each other.
Afterward, Alanna got up to blow out the
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