Desert Rising (8 page)

Jonas and Lasha nodded, but Alannah looked sorrowful.

“I've got the cook's assistant job for midmeal,” she whispered.

“I'll fill you in later,” Lasha told her with a fond smile.

Sulis was a bit envious of the two girls' closeness. They had chosen the two beds by the door in the attic of Ivanha and seemed to go almost everywhere together. She was almost positive they'd grown up with each other. It made her long for her friends back home, with whom she'd run wild before their apprenticeships began. And she missed Kadar even more.

Jonas parted with them at Voras's altar, walking to the boys' dormitories. The three girls made their way to Ivanha's altar and through to the courtyard, where the acolytes of Ivanha and the female pledges gathered for the ceremony to end the day. The rest of the evening was to be spent in silence, with each pledge meditating alone or with her
feli
, to better commune with the deities. As far as Sulis had seen, very few meditated with their
feli
, and most used the time to read or sew. This past week Sulis had used the time to linger in the courtyard gardens until it became too dark to read, memorizing the books of endless prayers the Crone had given her. The gardens were where most of the
feli
stayed, lounging in the fading sunlight and engaging in mock wrestling matches. Being there pretty much assured her of solitude.

Tonight, she leaned against Djinn in the gardens, using him as a backrest. He sat up suddenly, dumping her flat on the ground. She grumbled at him and picked herself up, looking in the direction he was staring.

Lasha was walking down the path, looking back and forth as though searching the flowers for something. She looked nervous but determined, and when she saw Sulis, she stopped. The two women looked at each other a moment, then Sulis smiled, realizing what the other girl was looking for. She thought she'd seen a lithe black form sunning herself by a small fountain, and she pointed in that direction. Lasha disappeared down the path.

After a moment, Sulis's curiosity drove her to her feet and she followed. She hesitated behind an overgrown bush as she saw Lasha sit down gingerly on the flagstones, about a foot away from her
feli
. The big feline lifted her silky, midnight-­black head curiously and watched the girl. Lasha sat stiffly a moment and reached her hand out and stroked the
feli's
head. Sulis held her breath, hoping that her guess had been correct, and the great felines just needed encouragement. Indeed it looked that way, because the black
feli
stretched her body out so that her legs were across Lasha's lap and her head was leaning against Lasha's leg. Sulis let out her breath, but Lasha held still and moved her hand to scratch under her
feli's
chin. Sulis could hear the answering rumble from where she hid.

Sulis turned away, intending to go in for the evening, and found herself facing the Mother Superior in her magenta robes, who was watching both of the girls from a few feet away. Sulis stared at the woman, whose face was a blank slate, inclined her head as though in submission, and walked past. Her heart was racing as she walked to the dormitory, and she wondered if the woman had been deliberately spying on her, or if it was just by chance that she had been on the path at that time.

Sulis suspected it was more likely someone was keeping a close eye on her and vowed to be careful in the future. She sprawled on her bed, pretending to memorize the prayer book, but all the while trying to remember if she'd ever seen a pink-­robed acolyte of Ivanha in the garden with her. Her worry almost made her miss Lasha's entrance into the dormitory, just after dusk, with black hairs covering her gray robes and a proud smile on her face.

Alannah, on the other hand, seemed troubled, her face unhappy, her eyes flicking from Lasha to Sulis.

It didn't matter; at least one person believed her and would probably be willing to listen to her in the future. Sulis dressed for bed and blew out her candle, shoving Djinn aside for her share of the covers.

The next day, Sulis slipped out of breakfast right after the blessing, stopping only to grab a hunk of bread before heading to the stables. It would be the first time since pledging that she had left the Temple grounds because every deity's altar and grounds could only be entered through the hallway around the Temple of the One. The hallway created a refuge for the acolytes but seemed more like a prison for pledges, who were not permitted to leave except to travel to the stables and weapons-­training arenas at the edge of town. Sulis was thrilled to finally get out of the Temple and work her body after so much inactivity.

Sulis wasn't worried about the equitation lessons; of all the things she had to learn, riding was as natural to her as breathing. If anything, she might be able to show the teacher some desert techniques. But she wanted to leave early in case Kadar had found the stable and was waiting somewhere along the route for her. She had just gotten to the curved hallway leading out into the street when she heard someone call her name. She turned to find a rose-­cloaked woman approaching her.

“Sulis. I'm Greta. The Mother Superior asked me to accompany you to the stable area since we both have lessons,” the woman told her, giving her a suspicious look Sulis was beginning to associate with all of Ivanha's acolytes. She also glared a minute at Djinn, who eyed her through his lashes and sat down to lick a paw.

Sulis swallowed her disappointment and smiled sweetly. “Oh good,” she told the woman. “I was afraid I would become lost, and I didn't want to get there late.”

Sulis looked around her as they walked, hoping to glimpse her brother. Either he wasn't around, or he was better at hiding than she'd remembered because she didn't find him before they came to the stables.

The stables were on the western edge of town, surrounded by a tall stone wall similar to those surrounding the deities' courtyards. Sulis and Greta walked through an archway to the main courtyard.

The courtyard was flagstone covered with a layer of sawdust. Djinn sneezed once, then again as the fine dust tickled his nose. He stalked off to a patch of green grass to one side of the arenas and began a thorough cleaning of his coat, his tail twitching in irritation.

There were mounting blocks every few paces and rings set in the wall for tying reins. The stone became packed earth and led into a series of arenas, some empty, some with little jumps, and some with poles sticking out of the ground. Sulis was surprised to see figures at the very back of the grounds on foot, practicing with swords, while a trainer in a red tunic looked on.

“Doesn't the noise of the swords scare the horses?” she asked Greta.

A woman's voice answered from behind Sulis. “Yes and no,” she said, and Sulis turned to face her.

The woman was tall, even taller than Sulis, and wore leather breeches and a green tunic, showing she was pledged to Aryn. Greta excused herself, hurrying off into the barn and leaving Sulis and tall woman alone. The woman studied Sulis a moment before walking forward and holding out her hand. Sulis shook it.

“I am Agnetha, the riding master, although students call me Aggie,” she said. “You must be Sulis. To answer your question—­yes, greener horses are spooked by the weapons work, but we keep greener riders and horses to the front arenas, farthest away from the noise. By the time both are seasoned, they are used to the clashing of swords in the background. We find this approach makes for steadier mounts in warfare or even just on the streets of the city. And weapons trainees learn to fight without whooping and yelling, or they face the wrath of their fellow trainees who've been dumped by spooked horses. Occasionally, the trainees will get extra enthusiastic, and even our better horses will spook. But it is good for riders to take a fall occasionally, and if they are really paying attention, they will catch themselves first.”

Sulis nodded, thinking of the times Uncle Aaron had set up diversions so that her horse would skitter, sometimes dumping her in the sand and sometimes just making her flail to keep her seat.

“You've ridden before?” Aggie asked, though it was more a statement than a question.

“Yes. I've ridden with our caravan for four years, and before that I exercised my father's racing horses,” Sulis replied. “I've been riding since I could walk.”

Aggie motioned to a stable boy who'd been hovering behind. “Starfire,” she told him, and he darted off.

She turned back to Sulis. “I expect you know how to groom and saddle a horse, though the saddles we use are different than pack saddles—­kind of in between those and racing saddles. I'll test you on your ability today.”

Sulis glanced over at Djinn, reclining in the shade with other
feli
.

“Don't the
feli
scare the horses?” she asked.

Aggie shook her head. “Every horse in this stable has been exposed to
feli
from its first days. The ones who don't adjust are sold.
Feli
are a part of everyday life at the Temple. A skittish horse is useless to us.”

The boy returned, leading a tall bay gelding. Sulis studied the horse. He was ganglier than the compact desert horses she was used to. He had a longer neck and legs, and his chest was less muscled. She cupped her hands and let the beast wuffle into them. Then she gathered the reins, put her foot in the stirrup, and mounted fluidly.

She adjusted the stirrups and squeezed her calves to signal a walk, holding the reins loosely.

“You'll want to firm up the reins,” Aggie advised. “Temple horses have not been trained to take leg signals for direction—­just for trot and canter.”

Thus began one of the more frustrating hours of Sulis's training. She was irritated and impatient with the slowness of the horse. Rather than responding to the pressure of her leg on his sides, he had to have his head pulled in the direction she wanted him to go. It was slow and cumbersome, and she longed for her mare back in the stables at Uncle Tarik's house. And the leg signals for trot and canter were different than those she was accustomed to. The teacher had her go around and around the ring, correcting her seat and allowing her to perfect the new signals.

Some of her frustration must have showed when she dismounted, and Aggie fell into step beside her as Sulis walked the gelding to cool him off.

“You've got an excellent seat,” she commented. “I think most of your problems stem from the differences between the two riding styles. The acolytes we get are mostly highbred children who are accustomed to riding in carriages or taking short day rides to the greens. Most of them will never develop a sensitive seat—­just basic riding skills to get them from one place to another. And they have to learn to ride since many acolytes serve at rural temples in the Territory. They must be able to travel roads wagons cannot take.”

Sulis nodded, thinking it made sense, even if the new style seemed like much more work to her.

“I'm sure you're wishing for one of Aaron Hasifel's excellent mounts, but you need to be able to ride anything in this stable, and you will by the time I'm done with you,” Aggie added. “We will meet again tomorrow, same time.”

Sulis looked at the older lady in surprise. “Aaron?” she asked, and paused to gather her thoughts into words. “Aaron is my father. Do you know him?” she asked. It was only a small lie since Aaron and Janis had adopted the twins after their parents' death, but she felt guilty. She was beginning to like Aggie and wanted to trust her.

Aggie nodded. “I own a mare and a gelding of his training. Before I was paired, I spent a year in Shpeth learning how to ride and train horses desert style. I met his sister, Iamar, then.” She gave Sulis a sideways glance.

Sulis stiffened. “Yes, my aunt. She died about six years ago.”

“I had not heard that Aaron and Janis had children,” Aggie told her, “although I know Iamar had a son and a daughter.”

Sulis stopped and felt the gelding's chest for moisture, hoping she seemed calmer on the outside than she felt on the inside. This was the first time at the Temple her story had been tested, and she was suddenly aware of the holes in it. “I was adopted,” she said—­which was technically true—­and quickly changed the subject. “I think Starfire is dry and ready to be stabled now.”

Aggie laid a hand on Sulis's arm as Sulis began to lead the gelding away. Sulis looked back at her.

“Be careful, Sulis,” she urged, her brow furrowed. “Things aren't all what they seem here. Don't get caught in the middle, as Iamar did. Remember, you have friends in certain places, but you will be watched because of where you come from.”

Aggie turned and walked swiftly to the stables, with Sulis staring after her. Did she mean that the acolytes of Aryn, like Aggie was, were Sulis's friends, or that another sect supported her? The gelding tossed his head, and Sulis patted his neck and led him to the stables.

Greta was waiting for her when she finished rubbing down the gelding and gave him to the stable boy. Sulis looked around for Djinn, but he had sprawled in the sun with a second
feli
grooming him, and it did not seem that he would be moving anytime soon. Sulis shrugged and followed the other woman, thinking he probably knew the way to the Temple better than she did.

There was more of a crowd on the way back as pilgrims hurried to reach the Temple before midmeal. Sulis was scanning the crowd for a familiar face when she was pushed hard in the back. She stumbled and fell as a leg appeared in front to trip her. The brick walkway scraped her hands as she caught herself.

She felt a hand reach into the pocket of her robe and she opened her mouth to let out an indignant yell. A voice in her ear stopped her.

“Gotcha, Su',” Kadar's voice said, and she turned to see him smile and disappear into a crowd of similarly brown-­cloaked individuals.