Freedom's Gate

by Naomi Kritzer

“We failed the minute we walked out of the camp,” I said.

  “No, you could have turned back while you were still in sight. But you didn’t. You completed your errand. So you failed.”

  Tamar’s hand stole to the thong around her neck, with its single blue bead. Janiya gave her a cold look and stalked away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It wasn’t a fair test.”

  “No.”

  Tamar and I sat at the edge of camp, picking at our bowls of lentils and rice. I ate another lentil and put my bowl down, feeling that even one more mouthful of the Alashi spices would send me over the edge, yet I was still hungry.

  “She told us to bring back karenite and we found a piece of karenite.” Tamar thumped the lump of rock that still rested at her side. “We did what she asked. We should have passed the test. Anyway, so what if we didn’t bring water? We came back alive, we didn’t need to be rescued or anything.”

  I nodded silently. I had to admit—to myself—that the test had been fair. They wanted us to demonstrate that we could take care of ourselves, plan by ourselves, think for ourselves. They couldn’t very well tell us at the outset, “Show me that you can act responsibly.” Then we’d know just what to do to pass the test. No, this was the way to do it. What galled me was that I had fallen for it, running out into the desert with no water. What an idiot. I was never a slave. I was quite capable of taking care of myself—thinking for myself. Why had I fallen for such a stupid trick? I gritted my teeth and lifted a little more of the lentils and rice, swallowing the mouthful fast without chewing much. I could handle eating dirt. Dirt would just be bland. This is—this is— I gagged and put my bowl down.

  “At least we know, now,” I said, when I washed the mouthful down with water. “The tests are going to be tricks. We need to be suspicious of instructions, particularly from Janiya, particularly when we’re already off-balance. Don’t forget that she woke us up early; we were confused and sleepy, not at our best.” That’s why I failed. Tired, hungover, cold, disoriented.

  “Yeah,” Tamar said bleakly. Her bowl was empty, at least, though she wasn’t going over to ask for a second helping. “I thought we could trust Janiya, at least.”

  I forced down another mouthful. “Well, now we know.”

  “Yeah,” Tamar said again.

  No one came over to talk to us this evening—Saken didn’t come over to comfort us, but sat by the fire with Erdene, laughing about something. Ruan avoided us, too, fortunately; I didn’t think I could bear her taunts after the day we’d had. I forced down the rest of my bowl, a little at a time, so as not to waste food. Then I scrubbed it out, stacked it with the others, and went into the yurt to sleep.

  I had vivid nightmares that night. I was out in the rippling grasses on a moonless night, deep in Alashi territory, but I wore only a ripped gauze shift, and I knew Sophos was nearby. I ran as fast as I could, desperate to get away, but I knew he was gaining on me, though I couldn’t see him. I had only one hope; only one person could protect me, the one person I could trust. “Kyros,” I screamed at the black night sky. “Kyros. Kyros. Kyros.”

  Someone was shaking my shoulders, and I struggled to consciousness, expecting Tamar but hearing Maydan’s voice in the darkness, instead. “You were screaming. If you keep disturbing everyone’s sleep, we may have to arrange for you to sleep somewhere else.”

  “I’m sorry.” I was acutely aware, in the darkness, of the harsh breath of the other women; I had clearly woken the whole tent. I wondered why Tamar hadn’t woken me up this time.

  “Who is Kyros?”

  “Kyros was my old owner. I dreamed—” I swallowed hard. “I was dreaming that I was here, and Kyros was coming. I tried to scream a warning. I guess I succeeded a little better than I thought in my dream.”

  Maydan’s hands relaxed a little. “You’re safe from him here. Someone always stands watch at night; perhaps in a few nights it’ll be your turn. Go back to sleep.” The last instruction was pitched for everyone, and around me I could hear people settling back down in their blankets.

  Tamar slipped in beside me before I’d fallen back asleep. “I went out to pee,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not your fault.”

  “It’s only just after midnight.”

  I nodded, though Tamar couldn’t very well see the gesture in the darkness. I expected to be up the rest of the night, but sank into dreamless sleep a short while later.

  Relax,” said Jolay. “Trust your horse.” She wasn’t making jokes today; horseback riding was serious business.

  Tamar smiled stiffly. I wondered how much unease I should feign. I might have ridden occasionally as a stable hand, maybe, but I wouldn’t have developed the sort of skill I had from tearing across the desert on Zhade. On the other hand, I wasn’t sure how much unease I could feign. I was a decent rider—not as skilled as some of the Alashi, but I had spent a lot of time on horseback and I didn’t think I could convince anyone that I hadn’t. At any rate, I relaxed into the saddle, keeping my back straight. The Alashi saddle felt familiar now, rather than foreign. I wondered if Kyros would let me bring one back and try it with Zhade.

  “Sit up straight,” Jolay said to Tamar. Tamar straightened her back, tensing up even more. “No, sit up straight and relax. Lauria’s got it—look at Lauria.”

  I bit my lip. I should have tried to look more nervous. Tamar glared at me but examined my back and hips and tried to adjust. Jolay rode up alongside her and prodded her back; Tamar flinched away instinctively, and Jolay drew back, shrugging. “I guess that’s as well as we’re going to do today.”

  “Are we done, then?” Tamar asked, already shifting her weight to dismount.

  “You wish!” Jolay shot Tamar a look of genuine amusement. “Relax, blossom. We’ve got hours.” Tamar winced and Jolay smiled even more broadly. “Next lesson: the reins. Use a light touch. Kesh and Kara will take good care of you, and all they need is a nudge to tell them where you want to go. If you’re riding another horse and they don’t want to obey, you need to work out that problem on the ground, not by hauling on their mouth. For now, we’re going to practice communicating with the horse. You’re both going to ride out to that tree over there.” She pointed to a dead tree some distance away. “But not straight out and straight back. I want you to veer back and forth on your way, left and then right, left and then right.” She traced a snaking pattern with her hand. “Use the lightest touch you possibly can to guide your horse. I want you to experiment, you understand? If you can, don’t use the reins at all. When you shift your weight, your horses can read that and follow your lead, and ultimately that’s what you’re going for. In battle, we guide our horses without reins, to leave our hands free for our bows, and eventually you’ll need to be able to do that, too. Right now, you can ride at any speed you like, fast or slow; the point of the exercise is to work on communication.”

  I had always used a little firmer hand with Zhade than she was suggesting, and I wondered now if that had been absolutely necessary. It was how Kyros’s stable master had taught me to ride. Never trust a horse, he’d said. They’re bigger than you and they’re faster than you. You need to teach them who’s the master, and never let them forget it. Now, riding my Alashi mare, I leaned into my saddle and was pleasantly surprised to discover just how right Jolay was. Kara pricked up her ears as I leaned left and leaned right, and veered as directed, even if I left the reins completely slack. A gentle shift of the reins was enough to make her turn quite sharply, if that’s what I wanted. I had started out at a walk, but I picked up the pace, and wondered if I could communicate fast and slower the same way, just shifting my weight around. I discovered that it took a little more urging to convince Kara to canter, but relaxing back in my saddle was quickly taken as permission to slow down again, even if I didn’t touch the reins.

  I met Tamar out by the tree; we glanced back at Jolay, who sat on her own horse, watching us. Bored, probably. Oh well.

  “What do you think?�
�� I asked Tamar.

  She bit her lip. “Am I as hopeless as she says?”

  “You’re doing fine,” I said. “You’ve never ridden a horse before. I have. Though the Alashi ride very differently from the Greeks.” I’ll have to take Zhade out once I’m back, and see if I can ride her like this, or if the Alashi training is just different. I wonder if I can share some of this with Kyros’s stable master? “Aren’t you enjoying it at all?”

  “I don’t like being up so high,” Tamar muttered.

  “Just remember, on a horse you’re taller than Sophos,” I said. “You’re taller, faster, and stronger than any human on two legs.”

  Tamar brightened a little at that. We set out back toward Jolay and arrived a few minutes later.

  “Good!” she exclaimed as soon as we were in earshot. “You’re doing well, a lot better than I expected, if you want to know the truth. You can dismount now, we’re going to do some ground work.”

  The ground work turned out to be learning how to fall. I had a bad feeling that I was going to be required to fall off Kara—or at least jump off—at some point in the future, but for now she simply had us practice falling down from standing. “Land on your side and roll,” she said. “Tuck if you can, you’re less likely to get kicked or stepped on.” Tamar blanched at the thought, but obediently practiced falling down, tucking into a ball and rolling as she did.

  When we felt thoroughly bruised and sore, we led our horses back into camp and took them over to the stream to allow them to drink. We took off the saddles and bridles, groomed our horses, hobbled them—though that hardly seemed necessary; Kesh and Kara were such placid animals—then cleaned their tack and put them away. The tack was stored in a smaller wool tent that was pitched next to the yurt. That was used, as far as I could tell, entirely for storage of things that shouldn’t get wet—riding gear, food stores, wooden chests I hadn’t actually seen opened. There had been no rain since we rode out with the sisterhood, but Alashi weather was unpredictable, as Tamar and I had experienced on our walk. And it was still spring.

  When we were done, Jolay found some bread and cheese for lunch, and told Tamar and me to go relax for a bit. We sat down with our food. Some of the other women were nearby, eating their own lunch or mending clothes; others were off somewhere.

  “Lauria,” Janiya said. I looked up. “Go get me some tea.”

  I stood up and headed toward the storage tent. I hadn’t made myself tea but I’d seen other women help themselves to it, so I knew where it was kept. The tea was stored in a white canvas sack; I put a scoop of tea in one of the small teapots, then found one of the heavy mugs that the Alashi drank tea from. Water was kept simmering on the campfire; I dipped some out with the ladle, poured it over the tea, let it brew for a few minutes, and then brought it to Janiya and set it down beside her silently. I was moving away when she spoke again. “Lauria.”

  “Yes?” I turned back. She was visibly fuming, and I glanced back at the tea, panicky. Had I let it steep for too long? Not long enough? Was there another bag of tea, something special and reserved for Janiya, that I should have taken it from? “What’s wrong?”

  “Did I say please?”

  I stared at her, mute with total confusion.

  “Is there something wrong with my legs, that I can’t go get my own tea?” She stood up and dashed the tea to the ground with a splash. “You are my sister, not my slave. Why did you get me tea, Lauria? Why?”

  “Because you asked—”

  “Asked, hell. I ordered. I have the right to give you orders when we’re fighting, or when it’s something for the good of the sisterhood, but I do not have the right to order a sister to wait on my whims. Have you ever seen anyone else wait on me?” I shook my head. “That’s right, you haven’t. Erdene!” Erdene glanced over from her seat by the campfire. “Get me some tea.”

  “Piss off,” Erdene said cheerfully. “Get your own damn tea, Janiya.”

  “There,” Janiya said, and settled herself back down. “Maybe next time this comes up, you’ll earn yourself a bead.”

  My blood went cold. “I failed another test?”

  “You failed another test,” Janiya agreed. “And here is what you need to learn: you are a sister here, not a slave. Erdene!” she called again. “Would you be a dear, since you’re by the fire, and get me some tea, please?”

  “I’d be glad to,” Erdene said, and vanished into the yurt.

  “There. You see? That is how a sister expects to be asked for tea.”

  “I see.” My teeth were clenched. Janiya nodded, dismissing me.

  I was too angry to go sit back down with Tamar, so I stalked back over to where the horses were gathered and began to groom Kara again. She looked a little surprised, but quickly relaxed under the attention. Red-brown hairs scattered in the sunlight. Beyond the edge of the camp, I could see some of the other women out riding; one was still dragging the rolled-up mass of wool and hair. Others raced their horses, practicing what I realized after a few minutes were battle maneuvers. I had heard that the Alashi shot arros from horseback, and now I could see some of the sisters practicing. Balancing neatly in their stirrups, they shot at a target set up on the ground. It was hard to believe that anyone could hit anything while riding a galloping horse, but a good number of the arrows they shot slammed into the target of stuffed goatskin. I leaned my head against Kara, watching them.

  “Impressed, blossom?”

  Ruan. I clenched my teeth and forced the words get the hell out of my face back down my throat. “Of course I’m impressed,” I said instead.

  “You’ll have to be able to do that by the end of the summer if you want to join us.”

  “Then I’m sure I’ll be able to,” I said. “I can’t imagine that the eldress would set me, or Tamar, an impossible task.”

  “I’ll be teaching you archery,” Ruan said, and with a smile that looked like she’d rather bite me, she turned and walked back to the fire.

  Warm up first, blossoms. You’ll be sorry if you don’t.”

  She gave us no more guidance than that. I led Tamar in a series of stretches—arms, back, wrists. Ruan tossed each of us an unstrung bow. “There’s your target,” she said, and pointed: a bright yellow cloth was stretched over a stuffed goatskin, some distance away. I had only the most rudimentary archery skills, and knew I would never be able to hit it at this distance. “Watch carefully,” she said. She strung her own bow, and slipped a carved stone ring over her thumb. She plucked an arrow from the quiver and rested it in the crook of her thumb and forefinger; then she tucked her thumb around the bowstring, drew, and released the arrow. We heard the thwock a moment later as the arrow hit the target.

  “Tamar, you use the red-and-white fletched arrows; Lauria, you use the red-and-black. That way, if either of you actually hits the target, we’ll know which of you it was.” She nodded once. “Well. Let’s see you try, then. What are you waiting for?”

  More of a lesson than that might be nice. I braced my bow against my leg and bent it until I could loop the string over the free end. It slipped out of my hands a few times before I managed to do it. Tamar, with her skinny arms, couldn’t bend the bow enough to string it. Ruan watched us both through half-lidded eyes, offering no suggestions. After a few minutes, I bent the bow for her and she slipped the loop over the free end.

  “Do you have one of those rings for each of us?” I asked Ruan.

  A look of irritation flickered across Ruan’s face, and I quailed a little, instinctively, after all the scorn of the last few days. But I realized as she contemptuously tossed each of us a leather thumb ring that she had been hoping to see us fail, and was disappointed that I’d had the wit to ask for equipment she hadn’t given me. I looped the leather around my thumb, plucked a red-and-black-feathered arrow out of the bag, looked in the direction of the target, drew, and released.

  The rebounding bowstring snapped against my elbow like a whip and I yelled out loud in pain. I managed to keep from dropping the b
ow, and set it down carefully to rub my arm. Ruan was convulsed in laughter. “Tuck your elbow, blossom,” she said when she had breath for it. “You’re a sister, not a brother.” She held out her own bow again, showing me. I picked up my own bow and held out my still-stinging arm. When my arm was perfectly straight, the underside of my elbow bulged out a little; that’s where I’d been struck with the bowstring. I rotated my elbow slightly; I could keep my arm straight and avoid being smacked by the bowstring, though it was a little harder to hold the bow this way. Ruan, no doubt, had known I would probably do this.

  It was just as well, I reflected, tucking my thumb around the string and drawing the bow again. Even the most basic archery skills were not likely to be found in a former slave. If I hadn’t made this mistake, she might have started to wonder. I could still resent the fact that she hadn’t warned me. The welt on my arm still burned and would smart for a while yet.

  Tamar had watched and learned from my mistake, but was making plenty of her own. Her first arrow went straight into the ground, just a short walk away. Her second got only a little farther. I decided I wasn’t really in much of a position to encourage, let alone coach, and loosed my second arrow, firing high. Too high: it sailed right over the target and landed somewhere in the field beyond. It would be a lot of fun finding all these arrows again. Maybe I should be firing short, like Tamar . . .

  Tamar got her next arrow higher, though it was far to the left of the target. My arm grew tired quickly and when I tried to pause with drawn bow to aim, it started to shake. I almost forgot and let my elbow turn in again, but tucked it just in time. That arrow went almost straight into the ground.

  I plucked out an arrow without looking closely and felt something coil around my hand. I looked down, had the briefest impression of a flicking tongue and a smooth body and shrieked like a child, shaking my hand furiously. The snake tumbled into the grass and glided off. I turned furiously to see that Ruan was convulsed with laughter again.