The day before the moon was full, Alanna roused Kara and Kourrem before dawn. She road with them as their sole escort to the nearest oasis. After saying prayers over them, she sent the girls into the chilly water for the ritual cleansing. They were silent throughout. Neither of them was permitted to speak until the night's ritual was over. Neither could do magic, or perform any tasks apart from dressing. Silently they returned to the camp and to Alanna's tent, where they knelt before the alter. Two pairs of eyes fixed on the lamp that burned there; within moments they were in a light trance. They would remain like this for hours, thinking about the life they were about to begin.
That night the light of the full moon turned the desert sands an eerie white: A fit setting for a initiation, I suppose, Alanna thought as Umar Komm read the list of gods given honor by the Bazhir. The girls knelt in the sand, encircled by witch-fires that glowed Alanna's violet and Umar Komm's blue-green. Both apprentices looked tired but serene, and Alanna felt proud of them. They'll be good for the tribe, she realized, even if they do want to keep their face veils.
Umar Komm finished the names of the gods and nodded to Alanna. She stretched out her hands to the girls, conscious that everyone was watching. The circle of fire lay solidly between Alanna and her apprentices. "If you are pure in heart and strong of will, come forth!" she summoned, using the words Umar Komm and the other shamans has taught her that very day.
Kara stood. For a moment she faltered, seeing the magical flames rear higher than her head. Then her mouth firmed, and she walked through the ring. Kourrem fallowed without hesitation. Alanna and Umar threw up walls of light, and Alanna summoned the apprentices again: "If you will do as the gods require you, come forth!"
The girls walked through the light together. Kara slowed, nearly stopping, for a moment, but both emerged. Alanna and Umar Komm created a deep trench in the ground before them. For the third time, Alanna summoned: "If you will do your duty by your people and your tribe, come forth!"
This task was the hardest, because it required the most determination. Few sorcerers lifted themselves from the ground; it cost too much strength to go a very short distance. Alanna doubted that she could do it, drained as she was by keeping Ali Mukhtab alive.
Kourrem hesitated, fighting to strengthen her resolve. She was forbidden to use thread, or to move rocks to fill the trench. She had to fly over it.
Kara stepped forward, her lower lip gripped between her teeth. Very slowly she floated across. She was nearly on the other side when Kourrem flew to catch up. Both of them collapsed onto the ground, exhausted. They stirred only when Umar Komm lifted Kourrem as Alanna lifted Kara.
"You are shamans of the Bazhir," Alanna told her apprentices.
"Welcome to our Brotherhood." Umar Komm smiled.
Okay in the book there is a lot of preporation for the Rite well it would be too long to type all of that up so here is the actual Rite of the Voice part.
Jonathan and Ali Mukhtab stood at the summit of the hill with a fire between them, its flames reaching waist-high. Somehow the Voice stood alone–there was no one to catch him if he fell. Alanna waited with the other visiting shamans some distance away: they were not permitted near until the ceremony was over: they were forbidden to use their magic.
Faithful stood on his hind feet, bracing his front paws on Alanna's thigh. Not taking her eyes off the scene before her, she picked him up, trying not to grip him too tightly. She was trembling with fear, because she had no control over what would happen.
Ali Mukhtab raised his hands, his voice suddenly strong as he chanted. The language was ancient, left from the time when the Bazhir lived in stone buildings on the other side of the Inland Sea; Alanna couldn't understand the words. She could however, feel the power that begun to fill the air: a dark, boiling force that drew answering chords from the crystal sword at her waist. She touched the hilt absently, mentally commanding it to quiet. The sound from the blade lessened, although she could feel it quivering.
Ali Mukhtab end the chant as suddenly-strong winds flicked burnooses across their owner's faces, raising little dust devils from the ground.
"Jonathan of Conte." Mukhtab's voice was soft, yet it rolled and echoed through the air. "You come, a northern stranger, seeking to be one with the Bazhir. For what reason should we permit you, son of the Tortallan king, to enter this most holy circle of our people?"
From the look on Jonathan's face, Alanna knew this wasn't part of the ritual. The Prince had to answer honestly, while the Bloody Hawk and the visitors from the other tribes listened.
Let it be the right answer, Alanna pleaded the Great Goddess silently.
A sudden burst of light turned the entire scene a blue-white color, dazzling them all. From the circle of light that blotted their vision, the listeners heard Jonathan's voice. "Because I know and honor your history, and I know and honor your laws. Because I never wish to see the Bazhir hunted and slain by our warriors, even as I never wish to see our warriors hunted and slain by the Bazhir." A soft chuckle swept through the watchers farther down the hills from the shamans, and Alanna felt a small knot tension loosen inside her. Her eyes were beginning to clear, revealing at least the outlines of the two men above her. Jonathan continued, "Because only together will your people and mine become great. Because..." his voice grew very quiet. "Because I want to know the why of men and women."
There was a silence; Alanna was sure the thudding of her heart was audible to everyone. Then Ali Mukhtab raised his hands once more, his belt dagger glinting in his left fist.
"As the gods will, so mote it be!" he cried. A thunderclap made the ground rock beneath them as the Voice of the Tribes laid open a long gash in his right forearm. It was far longer than the ones Alanna had received when she became a Bazhir and when Myles adopted her. Merciful Mother! Alanna thought in horror. He can't lose so much blood!
Jonathan was opening a similar wound in his own right arm, paralleling the one he'd received on initiation into the Bazhir. Faithful jumped from Alanna's hold and raced up the hill to the two men. Alanna started to call him back, but Kara clapped a hand over her mouth, and Kourrem shook her head warningly. Alanna gritted her teeth, willing herself to stay where she was as Kara removed her hand. If either man saw the cat sitting now beside Mukhtab, he gave no sign of it. Their eyes were locked on each other's faces as the Voice stretched his bleeding arm across the fire to the Prince. Jon reached out and clasped the offered arm, both men drawing perilously close to the flames. The fire hissed as their combined blood dropped onto the hot coals.
"Two as One." Ali Mukhtab's voice was a broken rasp that rang in Alanna's ears. The power in the air climbed; Kara and Kourrem clung shivering to each other. Umar Komm reached over and gripped Alanna's shoulder. She covered the old shaman's hand with hers, grateful for the contact.
"Two as One." Jonathan sounded soft and halting, almost as if he were in a trance.
"Two as One, and Many." Ali Mukhtab's voice held a whining note that made hair on the back of Alanna's neck stand straight up.
"Two as One, and Many." Jonathan shivered uncontrollably. The fire suddenly roared higher than both men's heads, engulfing them in flames that were rapidly turning an eye-hurting white. Their burnooses began to smolder. As if he sensed her urge to run to them, Umar Komm tightened his grip on Alanna. He had warned her before the ceremony that she must not speak or interfere, no matter what happened. The gods would protect Jonathan and Ali Mukhtab, if they were meant to succeed.
"One-as-Many!" Ali Mukhtab forced the cry out as the blue-white flames caused many watchers to look away. The words thundered with magic, making Alanna's bones hurt and the crystal sword shiver.
"One!" Jonathan's voice was thick with pain, but he forced the words out, "As-Many!"
There was a crash of sound that left them deafened. For a moment Alanna thought she heard thousands of voices cry out in exaltation. Suddenly the fire went out; the darkness was split by Jonathan's scream. Alanna heard one-or both-of them fall. Umar Komm held her now with both hands, and a tiny part of her was surprised at the old man's strength.
At last everything was silent. The winds stopped and were replaced by a desert breeze. Umar Komm relaxed his grip on Alanna as the felling of power oozed from the air.
"Now we shall see," he announced, bending to pick up the staff that he had dropped in order to hold her.
"Come," he ordered the shamans. They made their way to the summit of the hill. The others went to Ali Mukhtab as Alanna knelt beside Jon, felling for his pulse with shaking fingers. His heartbeat was slow and strong. She seized his arm, preparing to tear a bandage from her robe and stopped. Two scars, one reddish, the other blue-tinted, ran from the Prince's elbow to wrist. The blue scar was warm to the touch, far warmer than Jon's body heat would have made it. She shivered. Ali Mukhtab had just such scar on his right arm.
She looked up at Umar Komm. "He's alright." Glancing at the other shamans, who were lifting Ali Mukhtab, she whispered, "The Voice?" She knew the truth even as she asked.
Jonathan stirred and sat up, rubbing the blue scar, "I am the Voice of the Tribes," he rasped. "Ali Mukhtab, who was the Voice, has passed on. I remain." He stood, leaning on Alanna's shoulder, and the watchers below cheered until their throats hurt. Men came forward and took Mukhtab's body as Alanna rubbed away the tears flooding down her cheeks.
"He isn't gone," Jonathan told her. "He's here, inside me. They're all here-all the Voices." He looked up at a nearby man. "It won't be so bad, Amman Kemail. I am not wise, but I can always learn."
The big headman smiled thinly. "In you moment of becoming we were each with you." His eyes flicked to Alanna. "All including the Woman Who Rides Like a Man. You will do Jonathan of Conte."
They gripped each other's arms. "If I succeed, I will owe it to the Bazhir and not myself," Jon replied.
Halef Seif approached, bowing deeply to the Prince who had become their Voice. "It is time for out people to rejoice in a seemly livered fashion," the Bloody Hawk headman remarked. "Ali Mukhtab is delivered from his pain, and the Voice of the Tribes continues. Let us burn his abandoned shell, and send him to the gods with love. Come down to the village. We will remember Ali Mukhtab, and we will drink to out hope for peace."
Lo: I'm glad you liked the last chapter as well. here is the next one.(I love Finding Nemo) just keep reviewing. lol.
Alanna22039: thanks for giving me encouragement i was really not sure if any one would like it . i promise that the next chapter will be up in a little while because i need to write it again because i didn't like how i wrote it the first time. so it will be up as soon as i'm done. most likely by sunday at the earliest.
Okay now that was the chapter. i really don't expect reviews because i didn't actually write it so the next chapter will be up as soon as i get it typed. i hope you had fun reading.