The Woman Who Rides Like a Man by Tamora Pierce Page A

complained about the added memorization, but they studied hard. Ishak now kept Alanna up at night; he was quicker than the other two, and he had a feel for the Gift, but his eagerness to learn dangerous things frightened her. He did not have the self-discipline of the girls. Was it because he had been more accepted by the tribe? Often Alanna caught him staring at her crystal sword; she feared one day he would ignore her command and try to wield it.
    As an apprentice weaver, Alanna was all thumbs; the girls were baffled. She reminded herself that she had not been even a passable swordsman when she first began to train; but such thoughts didn't soothe her hurt pride. Making things worse was the fact that there was no way she could teach Kourrem the advanced skills the girl lacked.
    "I can't do it!" Kourrem cried while working one night. A mass of knotted threads, like a giant spider, sat on her loom. "I'm stupid and ignorant—"
    "You lost track of the pattern," a dry voice said from the opening that led to the temple part of the tent. Alanna and her apprentices turned to stare at the tiny old woman who stood there. Alanna recognized her. Halef Seif had pointed Hakim's mother out to her before, the woman Kourrem said was the tribe's finest weaver.
    The old lady lifted an unlit stick of incense. "I was about to pay my respects to the Mother when I overheard," she explained. Walking forward, she thrust the incense at Alanna. "Hold this." She joined Kourrem at the big loom. "See? Here—and here—you broke the pattern. And here." She inspected the remainder of Kourrem's work as the girl clutched Kara's arm. "Hm. Not bad for someone without much formal teaching. A tight, even weave." Kourrem beamed at the praise. Perhaps the first she's had from a woman of the tribe in years, Alanna thought.
    Mistress Fahrar walked over and picked up the cards, scrutinizing Alanna's work. "Be more patient," she said, her gray-brown eyes amused. "You're missing little bits of dirt." She thrust the pieces of wool back at Alanna. "Start over, and take your time. You'll be faster as you get accustomed to it."
    She drew a breath, looking around her. "You're a promising weaver, young Kourrem, but you should be learning your own craft, not teaching it. I am sure your weaving could become better, Kara." The tall girl blushed and looked at her feet. "And you should have a teacher who is accustomed to teaching, shaman," she told Alanna firmly. "You will learn from me, with Kourrem's permission, and I will show these two young women what more they can study. Doubtless this young man can find something to occupy him while we women work," she added dryly.
    For the grateful tears and the relief in the girls' faces, Alanna could have kissed the formidable lady. Instead she nodded, her face properly grave. "I accept your kind offer, Mistress Fahrar, for my apprentices and myself." At last! she exulted inwardly. One woman in the tribe has acknowledged that we exist; and I didn't have to ask Halef Seif or Ali Mukhtab to intervene! "I am called Mari," the mother of Hakim replied. "Now, come, you girls. Show me what else you can do."
    *
    Then Coram returned a week later, he found things very different. He had much to say about the changes among the Bloody Hawk. Fortunately, he said all of it in private, to Alanna and Faithful.
    "I think I'm leavin' ye in a fairly quiet place," he began as he unpacked in his tent. Alanna was watching as she scratched Faithful's ears. "Ye weren't well enough known here that ye could get into any trouble, and I thought they'd stay away from ye. But I come back, and ye're the Mother-blessed shaman of the tribe, ye've adopted three young ones, and ye're forcin' the women to accept two of their own sittin' with the men—"
    "You're turning purple," Alanna commented when he stopped for breath.
    "Can't ye stay out of trouble for a few short weeks?" he bellowed.
    "I didn't ask for Akhnan Ibn Nazzir to attack me," she pointed out. "But he did,