The Skull of the World by Kate Forsyth Read Free Book Online Page B

me." Isabeau nodded. "But you struck no blow at all."
    "You are my kin and the heir to the Firemaker," Isabeau said softly. "I would not be the one to destroy the gift of the Gods of White to their children."
    "So you do not want the godhead," Isabeau's cousin said. "I thought. . ." She hesitated a moment, then bowed to Isabeau, lifting one hand to cover her eyes, the other hand bent outward in supplication. Isabeau brought two fingers to her brow, then to her heart, then out to the sunlit day.
    "I give you my apologies," the red-haired warrior said dearly. "I confess to fear, vanity and pride, worst of deficiencies. I was afraid the Firemaker regretted her acknowledgment of us, the descendants of Khan'fella, she who was left out in the snow for the White Gods. I wanted to be the only heir and thought to eliminate any threat to my position. I challenged your truth-telling in order to kill you without consequences to myself, knowing that to kill you outside the fighting circle would be to call the punishment of the Gods of White upon me. I ask your forgiveness and offer you the right to order my punishment."
    Isabeau made the gesture of acceptance, then said, "Your challenge was honest, though, for you truly did not believe I was telling the truth. It was a fair challenge therefore, and I have proved my truth and my honor to you and your pride. There is no need for punishment."
    "The stranger-child is merciful," the Old Mother said harshly. The color rose in her daughter's cheeks and she bowed her head, saying,"What then is your will, Old Mother?"
    "Your humiliation is punishment enough, I think," the red-haired woman replied, "for indeed I do not think any warrior of this pride has ever been beaten so shamefully. Many times I have warned you against conceit and quick temper, and at last you see the crevasse that can open beneath you as a result of such faults. Remember, though, that you are in debt to the stranger-child for she had the White Gods within her and could have killed you a number of times. Wait upon her now like a bond-servant and do what she orders, and know that one day the time will come when she will demand payment of the debt."
    Isabeau's cousin bowed her head and made the gesture of acceptance, all her freckles drowned under her high color. Isabeau restrained a gesture of protest, for she knew the Old Mother had just given her daughter's life into her hands. Debts of honor were taken very seriously on the Spine of the World. She could order her cousin to throw herself from a cliff and she would have to obey, isabeau had no wish to put her cousin under such an obligation, but she knew she had no choice. The Old Mother had spoken and the red-haired warrior had accepted her words.
    "It is the seventh scar of the warrior you should wear upon your brow," her cousin said. "I have never seen such a fighter as you and the Pride of the Fighting Cats is famous for its warriors."
    "I am no warrior," Isabeau said. "Truly the White Gods had their hand upon me today. I have never fought like that before and I never shall again."
    "The White Gods must have some dread purpose for you, to guard and protect you so well," her cousin said in awe. Isabeau nodded, troubled and afraid.
    "My name is Khan'katrin," her cousin said very low. "It means 'swift with a blow as the fighting cat'."
    Isabeau was honored. The Khan'cohbans did not tell their names lightly. "I do not yet have a Khan'-cohban name," she replied, "but when I do I shall share it with you. I am called Isabeau in my own land. It means 'god is my oath'."
    "Indeed, the gods do honor you," Khan'katrin said. "Come, you must be weary. I shall serve you and when you have eaten and rested, I shall fill your empty bag with grain and fruit and guide you to the edge of the Fighting Cats' land to make sure you do not go astray."
    Isabeau thanked her and made her farewells to the council circle.
    "May the White Gods aid you in your quest and keep the wolf from your path," the Old