"When you have earned them all, we will tell you."

Great. A rigged game. I kept my face neutral, but suspected that the eldress guessed my thoughts. She smiled slightly and then tapped the blue bead with her withered finger. "The first test was to prove that you cared enough about your freedom to take it. You proved that by running away from your master and finding us." She sat back with a nod.

"So what do we do now?" Tamar asked, still afraid that she'd be sent to live with the children.

"We split up in the summer, into subclans and soldier brotherhoods and sisterhoods. Lauria will go to live with the soldier sisters," the eldress said.

"I want to go with Lauria," Tamar said.

"Ordinarily we would not a.s.sign two newcomers to the same band."

"Do you divide sisters?" Tamar asked. "Because we are sisters by blood."

The eldress sat back; for the first time, she had the faint smile of one who'd been ever-so-slightly bested.

"No," she said. "We do not separate sisters-especially not sisters by blood. Well. It was Janiya who found you; I will send you to serve with Janiya. She'll be pleased, no doubt." The acid tone in her voice made it clear she knew Janiya would be anything but. "I'll have someone take you to her. There will be a feast tonight, to welcome the two of you, and to celebrate the end of the spring gathering." The eldress struck a small bra.s.s bell, and a young man quickly presented himself to escort us to Janiya's encampment. "Oh," she called as we reached the door to the tent. "The Greeks tell their slaves all sorts of stories about us, so perhaps you'd like to know, you won't be the feast tonight. We don't eat human flesh, and Prometheus and Arachne don't ask for sacrifices, let alone the lives of young men and women.

We offer our courage and our strength to the G.o.ds, not the flesh of former captives. We're not fools enough to keep poisonous spiders as pets, either, and we don't throw away the lives of new recruits on meaningless 'tests' of spider bites or walking through flames."

Although Tamar had insisted that the stories of human sacrifice were lies, I saw a slight exhalation of relief at the eldress's words. Of course, she could be lying, to put us off our guard, I thought. But she hadn't taken away my sword, and that was a good sign.

"The only people we kill in cold blood," the el-dress added as we turned away, "are bandits, rapists, spies, and traitors."

Tamar smiled at that and gave an approving nod. It took every drop of self-control I possessed to do the same. Bandits, rapists, spies, and traitors. Well. I'm two out of four. I wonder how they'll execute me if they figure it out?

Tamar twiddled the bead with her fingers as we walked across the valley. The Alashi were up for the day now; people were carrying buckets of water from a well or stream I hadn't seen, hanging laundry, visiting with friends, mending clothes and boots. A pack of children tore past us; I overheard one of them shout, "Kill the Greeks! Mount up your horses!" They pantomimed leaping onto horseback, waving sticks in the air like swords and spears. I bit my lip, and Tamar smiled a little to herself.

When we reached Janiya's encampment, our male guide bid us an abrupt, embarra.s.sed good-bye; I realized that somewhere we had crossed a border into female territory. The eldress had used the term sisters, and everyone in the camp was a woman. Tamar seemed to be one of the youngest; Janiya, the woman who'd met us earlier, was probably the oldest at around forty. Tamar glanced at me; I looked around for Janiya, spotted her, and approached.

She looked us over with clear dismay. "Did the eldress send you to me? Both of you?" We nodded.

"Well. Put your packs down inside. The sisterhood is just now gathering, so I'll introduce you to everyone later."

We stepped into the round tent Janiya had pointed to. Like the eldress's, the inside was very different from the dull exterior. The walls were hung with the same glittering tapestries; the floor was covered with overlapping wool rugs, and ringed with pillows. Blankets were stacked in a basket near the door. No fire burned in the center of the tent, but a brightly polished copper kettle caught the sunshine that streamed down through the smoke hole. We set our packs down near the door and stepped back outside; the air was cooler inside than out, but the thick wool walls kept out the breeze as well as the heat. We settled ourselves in the shade outside. Tamar lay down, her head on her arm; I stayed awake to observe Janiya and her sisters-in-arms.

More women trickled in, in ones and twos, throughout the morning. Many clearly hadn't seen each other in a while and greeted each other with clear warmth and excitement. Janiya was more formal with the women, clasping arms instead of hugging them. People glanced at Tamar and me with evident curiosity, and I saw Janiya murmur explanations to a few of them. I twisted my blue bead on its thong, wondering if Kyros's aeriko was watching me right now. If it had been around, it certainly hadn't been very useful. I had a.s.sumed I would feel more certain of my footing once I reached the Alashi, but if anything, I felt more out of place and nervous than I had in Sophos's harem.

With effort, I recollected myself. The first step is the same as it's always been, I told myself. Observe.

Unlike an aeriko, I could be trusted to a.n.a.lyze and draw conclusions based on what I saw, and to properly report those conclusions. Anyone who dealt with aerika knew they simply withheld anything we didn't specifically ask for.

So. The women here were meeting again for the first time in a while. The eldress had said that the Alashi split into small bands for the dry summer season, both subclans- families, I thought I would probably call those-and soldier sisterhoods and brotherhoods. Presumably Janiya commanded a soldier sisterhood. It made sense, I thought, to keep the young men and women separate if they were supposed to concentrate on their military skills. The Sisterhood of the Weavers maintained a small, independent army of swords-women; they were kept strictly separate from men. I'd encountered a few of these swordswomen on my errand to the Sisterhood. I'd been tempted, at the time, to ask if they were recruiting, but had ended up returning to Kyros, as I always did.

I wondered how the Alashi spent their wintersusurely not in one big camp like this one. I'd have to ask later.

All the women seemed to own weapons, though they were something of a mixed collection. Some owned short, broad swords that looked like they'd been stolen from a Penelopeian armory; others owned curved swords like mine. Others had daggers or spears. Nearly everyone had a bow and a quiver of arrows. The weapons were as immaculately kept as any military commander could ask for-the blades clean and sharp, the leather scabbards well oiled. Greek commanders often owned swords that were as much jewelry as weapons, with gems set into the handle or at the base of the blade, but Janiya's sword seemed as plain and functional as everyone else's.

All the women wore loose linen trousers with a tunic over them, and an embroidered vest over that. I saw bits and pieces of armor stashed around campuleather vests, padded helmets, gauntlets-but apparently they put it on only if they were expecting trouble.

A few of the soldier sisters had sat near me in the shade of the yurt and I could overhear their conversation a bit. Two of the women were a year or two younger than me: Erdene and Saken. I caught their names after a few minutes of listening. The third, Ruan, was a bit older. Erdene and Saken seemed very close; they suffered Ruan's presence, I decided after listening for a few minutes, mostly out of respect for her seniority rather than fondness for her personally.

"I can't believe you're back," Saken said to Erdene with a laugh. "I heard at the beginning of gathering that you spent all winter..."

"I can't believe I'm back, either," Erdene said. "I swear on Arachne's web, Arai and I did it every night."

She sighed deeply. "But I bled just last week. I'm definitely not pregnant."

Saken shook her head with a fond smile. "You'll just have to try again next winter."

Erdene brightened a little at the prospect. "But for now, I'll have to cut off my hair." She raked her fingers through black curls that barely reached her shoulders, and let out her breath in an audible wistful sigh. "It's almost long enough to braid properly."

"I've got the scissors right here," Ruan said, holding up a set of shears.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Ruan, I think I'll wait until sundown at least," Erdene said.

Ruan set the scissors down a little stiffly, and Saken took pity on her. "Give them to Erdene; she can cut my hair now," she said.

Erdene took the scissors and trimmed Saken's hair, cutting it into a neat black cap. "Are you ready to lose your locks, Ruan?" Saken asked when she was done. Ruan nodded, and Saken trimmed her hair as Erdene had trimmed hers.

I touched my own matted hair, which undoubtedly reeked of sweat and long-curdled perfume, and was tempted to go ask for the scissors immediately. But there was clearly a way that these things were done, and I didn't want to slip out of step, unknowing, if I didn't have to.

As the sun rose in the sky, Ruan built the fire up a bit, then brought a pot out from the yurt; a short while later I smelled the familiar, earthy smell of lentils and rice. Saken wandered by at around midday and asked, "Is it almost ready? I'm famished." Inhaling the smell of cooking lentils, my nervousness had been almost replaced by ravenous hunger. When was the last time I'd eaten? Just the previous day, I realized after a few moments, but it had been only a fragment of food. There was still a little bit of cheese in our bag, I'd h.o.a.rded our food so carefully, and for a moment I was almost tempted to go get it. No, I thought. I'll wait and eat with everyone else.

Tamar roused as Ruan and Saken carried a pot out of the yurt. "Are we eating?" she asked, her voice still a little hazy from sleep. I stood up; Tamar clung to my arm, and we turned toward the pot of rice and lentils like the starving vagabonds we were.

Erdene had brought out earthenware bowls; they were golden-red and decorated with pictures of horses.

Ruan filled a bowl for Erdene, and a bowl for Saken; others from the camp lined up quickly and got their food. When everyone else had been served, Tamar and I stepped forward.

Ruan looked us up and down with a sneer. "Ah yes. New arrivals to share our food; how lucky we are, to get two at once." She dropped the ladle back into the pot. "Until the welcome banquet tonight, you are not in Janiya's sword sisterhood. See to your own food."

Tamar fell back a step, her face going red, then white. But she was too proud to beg, and I was too desperate to avoid attracting suspicion. "We have food in our bag," I whispered to her, thinking faintly of the tiny morsels of cheese that remained. "We can eat that."

Tamar shook her head, her lips tight. "Wait here," she said, and limped quickly into the yurt. She returned a moment later with the cheese, and unfolded the rag it was wrapped in. "You must be very poor, to have nothing to share with a hungry stranger," she said to Ruan. "Here. We share our surplus with you."

And she set the cheese down on the ground, and stalked away.

Saken laughed out loud. "I'd yield now if I were you, Ruan." When Ruan neither picked up the cheese nor the ladle, Saken rolled her eyes, picked up the cheese and two bowls, and filled them herself.

"Welcome to both of you, and I accept your invitation to share food. My name is Saken." She handed a bowl to Tamar, and a bowl to me. "Sit beside me, new sisters, and eat." She added, in a low, kind voice, "You can tell me your names when you've filled your stomachs."

I devoured the bowl and she refilled it, offering me a waterskin when I slowed down. I quenched my thirst, then ate some more of the lentils and rice. For the first time since leaving Sophos's house, I was neither thirsty nor hungry. Saken, I noticed when I finally stopped to look up, had eaten the cheese.

"My name is Lauria," I said after sc.r.a.ping the last of the lentils from the bowl. "This is Tamar."

"You have a Greek name," she observed.

"I have a Greek father."

"The man you escaped from?"

"No. I was sold, not long ago."

"We don't talk about that here," Ruan muttered, glaring balefully at Saken.

"It doesn't give them much to talk about if they can't mention their old lives," Saken said.

"What's your point?"

"It doesn't matter," Tamar said. "We don't wish to talk about it."

Saken picked up the scissors from where they were lying on the ground. "During the summer, when we're serving as sword sisters, we all wear our hair short, for convenience."

"And safety," added a short woman with a cleft chin.

"My sister Erdene was planning to wait until sunset, but if you'd like to trim your hair now, you are welcome to."

Tamar's eyes flashed, and she s.n.a.t.c.hed up the scissors, took her hair in one hand, and slashed it off in a single tangled ma.s.s. It fell to the ground, nearly as long as her arm. "Sophos never let us cut our hair," she murmured, forgetting Ruan's rule already.

Saken laughed, showing crooked teeth and a dimple. "Actually, it's customary to cut each other's hair; I probably should have mentioned that. Maybe Lauria can even it out for you, and then you can cut hers."

Flushing scarlet to her ears, Tamar put the scissors down; I trimmed her hair to match Ruan's and Saken's, and then Tamar took the scissors and cut mine. My neck felt suddenly cool even in the hot sun.

"No loss," I said, looking down at the hair around me. "It was tangled past redemption, I think."

We gathered up our shorn hair and, on Saken's instructions, tossed it into a growing pile left by the others. Heaped together like drying grain, the shades of hair were in stark contrast. Thanks to my Greek ancestry, my own hair wasn't the pure black of Saken's-it was a dark nut brown, though so coated with dust it was hard to really see the color. Tamar's hair, when clean, was almost red. Saken's hair was as black as a raven's feathers and almost straight, but Ruan's had a little curl to it. I'm not the only Alashi to have a Greek father. I thought, and wondered which of the other sword sisters here had themselves been born as slaves-or who had a mother or a father who'd once crossed the steppe like Tamar and I had.

Saken escorted us back to the yurt, with Erdene tagging along, and had us empty out our bags. Then she inspected our clothes. My boots pa.s.sed muster, but Tamar's boots made her bite her lip and shake her head disapprovingly. "You'll need a pair that actually fit. I'll take these back to my subclan and see if maybe someone's outgrown a pair recently and could trade with you."

"What do we do about our clothes?" I asked.

"The Unegendai will give you linen and you can make new clothes."

"The... Who?"

"Our sponsor subclan. They take care of material needs that we can't meet for ourselves. We herd a few animals, of course, but the subclan provides most of our food, our clothing, and so on. Every subclan supports one of the brotherhoods or sisterhoods."

I nodded, pretending that I understood, while wondering what to do next: did I find the subclan and ask?

Did Saken ask for me? Would thread be provided as well, and needles? The clothes were in a different style from the Greek clothes I'd worn in Kyros's household; I wasn't even sure how to cut the cloth for clothes of this style. I was afraid that if I asked too many questions, I'd appear foolish. Like someone who couldn't even begin to simply watch and imitate.

"I'll ask for cloth when I'm looking for a pair of boots for Tamar. You can wear those things for now,"

Saken said, answering at least one of my questions and rea.s.suring me that I didn't have to ask. "Sit down, Tamar, and let me get the measure of your feet."

Tamar sat and pressed the sole of her foot against the boot that Saken held up; Saken marked where her toes reached with a piece of chalk. "You should show her your feet, Tamar," I said softly, and at Saken's quizzical look Tamar unwrapped her feet. I rose to my own knees to take a look.

The cuts, to my relief, had not festered, but they hadn't healed well, either. Saken looked them over and quickly sent for a woman named Maydan, who apparently was known for a bit of knowledge and a gentle touch. "This one probably should have been st.i.tched when it happened," Maydan said, tracing the largest cut with her forefinger. "Too late now, and it looks to be healing as well as can be expected. I'll wash your foot and bandage you up again, and tell Janiya to go easy on you for a few days, until it heals properly."

"Thank you," Tamar said stiffly. I knew that her instinct was to insist that she could wash her own d.a.m.n foot, but Saken's kindness had disarmed her a bit and she was able to show a modic.u.m of graciousness.

Maydan sponged off the injuries and wrapped Tamar's foot again, this time in clean new linen.

Saken returned before sunset with a different pair of boots and some clothes ready-made.

"Hand-me-downs," she said happily, waving the bundle at us. "Come on back into the yurt and you can try everything on."

Saken's family had been perfectly happy to exchange an outgrown pair of boots for a pair that would actually fit her fast-growing younger brother, and had sent the two of us some outgrown clothing besides.

Saken outfitted each of us with a pair of dark brown wool pants, a leather belt, a dun-colored linen tunic, and a white linen head scarf that shielded our bare necks from the sun. The only thing we lacked was an embroidered vest of thick black wool, like the one Saken wore. "You'll make your own vests later," she said. "We make new ones each year anyway. For now at least you've got some clothes, and they fit you just fine."

They did fit us; Saken clearly had an excellent eye. Tamar b.u.t.toned her tunic and buckled her leather belt with an almost exaggerated care; I thought of the flimsy shifts we'd worn in the harem and wondered what she'd had to wear as a kitchen maid. I probably wouldn't have had a belt as a stable hand, either, I thought, and fingered the leather strap. Tamar was far too fascinated by her own new clothes to notice my own reaction to mine, but Saken might.

The sun was going down; Ruan had built up the campfire a bit and the rest of the sisterhood had gathered. At Saken's invitation, Tamar and I sat down beside her and Erdene; a few minutes later, we belatedly leapt to our feet, imitating everyone else. Janiya had arrived.

Janiya smiled broadly around the circle, basking for a moment in the affection of her troops. "It's been a good winter," she said, and there was a ripple of amus.e.m.e.nt through the sisterhood. "But it's going to be an even better summer." A shriek of approval. "We have two new sisters, Tamar and Lauria." She waved in our direction, and everyone turned to look, though I'd have sworn anyone curious had taken a good hard look at us during the long afternoon. "To welcome them, and to celebrate our new season together, we feast tonight! But don't stuff yourself sick; we break camp at dawn tomorrow and head out onto the steppe." Janiya sat down, dished herself some of the food, and everyone else immediately dug in.

The "feast," such as it was, featured mostly goat meat; it wasn't a terribly young goat, and the meat was greasy and gamey. I hadn't been fussy when I ate that afternoon, I was so hungry, but now that I was no longer on the brink of starvation I noticed how strange the spices were, not at all like the Greek spices I was used to. The rice and lentils were mixed with a strange sauce; there were vegetables in the mix, but small pieces. I was hungry enough that I dug in with a will anyway, but I knew that within a few weeks I would be very tired of the taste of Alashi food.

"Where do you get the rice and lentils?" I asked Saken. "You don't grow them, do you?"

She laughed. "No, we don't grow them. We trade for them with the people north of the steppe; just because the Greeks think we're dangerous outlaws doesn't mean the rest of the world feels that way."

"What do you-" I paused. "What do we trade for them?"

"Horses, mostly. Our horses are the best anywhere, everyone knows that. We also keep our eyes open for karenite, that's a pretty stone you can find on the steppe-we carve it into shapes and make it into jewelry. There's a constant demand for it."

"And the weapons? Where do they come from?"

"Some of them come from raids on the Greeks, others we trade for, others we make. That's an awfully nice sword you've got; you're lucky."

Saken sc.r.a.ped her plate clean, sucking every drop of juice and gravy from her fingers, and I imitated her.

We scrubbed our plates with sand when we were done, and wiped them clean, stacking them in the yurt, where they would be packed in the morning. Saken came by to give each of us a small clay cup of something; expecting water or wine, I took a ready swallow and nearly gagged. It was something thick and sour; forcing down what was in my mouth, I smelled it cautiously. "It's k.u.miss," Saken said.

"Fermented mare's milk." She was enthusiastic and I tried to force a smile and nod while sneaking a look at Tamar, to see how she was reacting to it. Tamar's expression was far more openly shocked than mine; then she set her jaw and drained the cup.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself to do the same, but then changed my mind, afraid that I would gag and vomit up my dinner. Instead, I took another sip. Another. It was alcoholic; I tried to tell myself that it was merely bad wine, but the worst p.i.s.s water I'd ever drunk at least didn't have the throat-clogging sticky thickness of this stuff. I forced down another sip, wanting to discreetly dump it out but fearing that someone would see me-for all I knew, it might const.i.tute sacrilege of some kind to throw it away. I looked down in the cup; one final gulp would do it. I steeled myself, downed it, and shuddered.

"You finished that fast!" observed a woman sitting near us. "Would you like some more?"

"No! Thank you." I saw the look of mirth on her face after I'd answered and realized that she knew perfectly well what I thought of the stuff, and was teasing me. I managed a ghost of a smile in return.

The fire was burning down; Erdene tossed on more of the dried animal manure the Alashi used as fuel. A gust of wind made it flicker, then flare higher momentarily; I saw that Ruan was watching me and smirking. I scowled and turned away from her. Erdene fetched a big kettle and placed it in the flames to heat.

One of the other women had slipped away from camp a few minutes ago; now she was back, carrying a sack. "I've got the wool," she said, with a broad smile. "It's time."

Ruan went into the yurt and returned with a large straw mat; one of the other women helped her unroll it into a rectangle the size of a very large rug. Then she held up the scissors. "Anyone left?" she said.