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"You are to go to their planting fields. Keep yourself hidden. Then, at sunset, blow on this magic whistle. You will hear no sound, but the birds will be called by the magic. In your mind, keep picturing birds. Think of all the birds you know as you blow on the whistle, and keep blowing until they come."
She touched the carved bone whistle. "Magic? The birds will truly come?"
He gave her a one sided smile. "Oh yes, they will come. There is no doubt of that. The magic will call them. No person will hear the sound, but the birds will. The Majendie will not know it is you who calls the birds. The birds will be hungry and will devour all the seed. Every time the Majendie plant seeds, you call the birds and take it away from them."
She grinned. "The Majendie will starve to death!"
Richard put his face close to hers. "No. This is my gift to you, to stop the killing, not a gift to help you kill. You will call the birds to steal their seed until the Majendie agree to live in peace with you. When they have fulfilled their part of the bargain, you must fulfil your part, and agree to live in peace with them."
He put his first finger right in front of her nose. "If you misuse my gift, I will come back and use other magic against your people. I have placed my trust in you to do right. Do not fail my trust."
Du Chaillu averted her eyes. She gave a little sniff. "I will do right. I will use your gift as you say." She tucked the whistle into her dress. "Thank you for helping to bring peace to my people."
"That is my greatest hope. Peace."
"Peace," Sister Verna huffed. She directed a smoldering glare to Richard. "You think it is so simple? You think that after three thousand years you can simply decree that the killing will stop? You think all it takes is your mere presence, and the ways of people will change? You are a naive child. Though the crimes of the father do not pass on to the son, you have a simplistic way of seeing things that brings harm just the same."
"If you think, Sister, that I would be a party to human sacrifices for any reason, you are seriously mistaken." He started to turn away, but then turned back. "What harm have I brought? What killing have I started?"
She leaned toward him. "Well, for one thing, if we don't help ones with the gift, like you, it will kill them, as it would kill you. How do you propose we get those boys to the Palace? We can no longer cross the Majendie's land." She glanced to Du Chaillu. "She has only given you pass through her land. She has not said we may bring others through." She straightened. "Those boys will die because of what you have done."
Richard thought about it a moment. He was exhausted. Using the sword's magic had wearied him as it never had before. He wanted nothing more than to sleep. He didn't feel like solving problems, or arguing. At last, he looked to Du Chaillu.
"When you make peace with the Majendie, before you let them plant once again, you must add another condition. You must tell them that in honor of the killing being brought to an end, in honor of the peace, they will let the Sisters cross their land." She watched his eyes a moment before she finally nodded. "Your people will do the same."
He narrowed his eyes at the Sister. "Satisfied?"
"In the Valley, when you struck down a beast, a thousand snakes sprang forth from its corpse. This is no different.
"It would be impossible," she said, "for me to accurately recall all the lies you have told today. I have reprimanded you before for lying, and cautioned you not to do it again. I told you not to swing the axe today, and you did it anyway, despite my warning. I can scarcely tally all the commands you have managed to violate in this one day. What you have done has not finished the killing, but only begun it."
"In this, Sister, I am the Seeker, not your student. As Seeker, I have no tolerance for human sacrifice. None. The deaths of others are a separate issue. You cannot use it as a link to justify murder. There will be no compromise in this. And I don't think you want to punish me for stopping something I would wager you wish would have been stopped long ago."
The muscles in her face relaxed. "As a Sister of the Light, I have no power to change things, and under obligation to save more lives, I had to uphold what has been for three thousand years. But I admit I hated it, and in a way I am glad you have taken it out of my hands. But that does not negate the trouble it will cause, or the deaths. When you put the Rada'Han on, you told me that holding the leash to that collar would be worse than wearing it. Your words are proving true."
Her lower eyelids filled with glistening moisture. "You have made my greatest love, my calling, a misery.
"I am past wanting to punish you for your disobedience. In a few days we will be at the Palace, and I will at last be finished with you. They will have to deal with you.
"We shall see how they handle you when you displease them. I believe you will find they are not prepared to be as tolerant as I have been. They will use that collar. And when they do, I also think they will come to regret holding your leash more than do I. I think they will come to regret trying to help you, as do I."
Richard put his hands in his back pockets as he stared off at the thick forest of oak and leather leaf. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Sister, and I guess I can understand it. Although I admit I have fought being your prisoner, this today was not about you and me.
"This was about what is right. As one who would wish to teach me, I would hope you shared that moral stance. I would hope the Sisters would not want to teach the use of the gift to one who could easily bend his convictions to the circumstance.
"Sister Verna, I was not trying to displease you. I simply could not live with myself if I allowed a murder to take place under my nose, much less participated in it."
"I know, Richard. But that only makes it worse, because it is all one and the same." She unclasped her hands and peered about at the fire and their supplies, finally pulling a cake of soap from a saddlebag. "I will make a stew, and bannock." She tossed the cake of soap to him. "Du Chaillu needs a bath."
Du Chaillu folded her arms in a huff. "While I was chained to a wall, the dogs who came to mount me did not offer me water so I would smell pretty for you."
Sister Verna squatted down, pulling supplies out. "I meant no offense, Du Chaillu. I simply thought you would want to wash the dirt of those men off you. If it were me, I would want nothing more than to try to wash the feel of their hands from my flesh."
Du Chaillu's indignation faltered. "Well of course I would!" She snatched the soap from Richard. "You smell of that beast you ride. You will wash too, or I will not want to be near you and will send you off to eat by yourself."
Richard chuckled. "If it will keep the peace with you, I will wash, too."
As Du Chaillu marched off toward the pond, Sister Verna called quietly to him. He waited next to her while she pulled a pot from a saddlebag.
"Her people have been killing any 'magic man' they could get their hands on for the last three thousand years. There is no time to give you history lessons." She looked up to his eyes. "Old habits spring to hand as easily as a knife. Don't turn your back on her. Sooner or later, she is going to try to kill you."
Her quiet tone unexpectedly rose bumps on his flesh. "I'll try to keep myself alive, Sister, so you can deliver me to the Palace and at last be free of your onerous charge."
Richard hurried toward the pond and caught up with Du Chaillu as she was walking through the reeds. "Why did you call that your prayer dress?"
Du Chaillu held her arms out, letting the breeze ruffle the strips of cloth on her dress. "These are prayers."
"What are prayers? You mean the strips of cloth?"
She nodded. "Each is a prayer. When the wind blows, and they fly, each sends a prayer to the spirits."
"And what do you pray for?"
"Every one of these prayers is the same, from the heart of the person who gave me their prayer. They are all prayers to have our land returned to us."
"Your land? But you are in your land."
"No. This is where we live, but it is not our land. Many ages ago, our land
was taken by the magic men. They banished us here."
They reached the edge of the pond. Puffs of breeze drew up ripples in dark patches. The bank was grassy with thick patches of rushes to each side, extending out into the water.
"The magic men took your land? What land?"
"They took our land from our ancestors." She pointed in the direction of the Valley of the Lost. "The land on the other side of the Majendie. I was going to our land, with our prayers, to ask the spirits if they would help our land be returned to us. But the Majendie caught me, and I was not able to take our prayers to the spirits."
"How will the spirits return your land to you?"
She shrugged. "The old words say only that we must send one every year to our land, to pray to the spirits, and if we do, our land will be returned." She untied her belt and sipped it to the ground. With unsettling grace, she tossed the green handled knife aside, sticking it in the round end of a branch on a log.
"How?"
She gave him a curious frown. "By sending us our master."
"I thought you were the Baka Ban Mana, those without masters."
She shrugged. "Because the spirits have not sent us one yet."
While Richard was puzzling over this, she reached down, took hold of her dress, and pulled it off over her head.
"What do you think you're doing!"
She frowned. "It is me that I must wash, not my dress."
"Well not in front of me!"
She looked down at herself. "You have already seen me. I have not grown any different since this morning." She looked up at him. "Your face is red again."
"Over there." He pointed. "Go on the other side of the rushes. You on one side and me on the other."
