“Better breeched than bare Jaelle,” Rohana said, adding more gently, “I know how you feel. Before I came on this journey, I believed nothing could force me to wear breeches and boots, but necessity is stronger than custom; and, as for seemliness-well, you cannot ride in that tattered nightgown with your bare haunches in the wind.”
Camilla came and checked the fit of the boots. “If they are too loose and make blisters, child, tell me and I will find an extra pair of thick stockings. How do women manage to ride in the Dry Towns, little lady?”
“The saddle is made like this”-Jaelle demonstrated-“so that a woman can sit sidewise and her skirts are not disordered.”
“And will slip and fall if her horse stumbles,” said Gwennis, “while I can ride as fast and far as any man, and I have never had a fall. But in the Domains, little one, you can wear those clumsy riding-skirts your kinswoman prefers to wear.”
“Clumsy they may look,” Rohana retorted, “yet I ride well enough in them that I can hunt with hawks in the mountains; in a bad season, when the men cannot spare time for the hunt, the little children or sick people have never had to go without birds or small game for their table, riding-skirts or no; I ride as well in them as in these.” And I wish I were wearing them now, she thought, but knew the Amazons would have had small sympathy for that.
Gwennis ran her hand along Jaelle’s long tangled hair. “It is a pity it should snarl so.”
Jaelle’s eyes filled with tears; she looked up at Rohana’s cropped head and said, “Do you have to cut it?”
Rohana said firmly, “No indeed. But let me comb and braid it tight, so it will not tangle while you ride.” She made Jaelle sit down and began to comb the waist-length, fire-red hair. She felt again a pang at the thought of her own hair, which had been her pride, her one claim to beauty. Gabriel will be angry when he sees my hair, hacked short like an Amazon’s. She thought defensively, as if answering her husband, / had no choice, it was for Melora’s sake. But Jaelle’s should not be sacrificed.
THE SHATTERED CHAIN
61
Kindra came and looked at Jaelle, dressed in the too-large odds and ends of Amazon garb, but she made no comment. She drew Rohana aside for a moment and said, “Do not tell the child, and do not disturb your kinswoman, but there is a small cloud of dust at the horizon. It probably has nothing to do with us-it is not in the direction of Shainsa, from which pursuit would come; but I must warn my women, and you, Lady, should be wary.”
“Should we be ready to ride again?”
Kindra shook her head. “No. In the heat of the day we dare not; we would die of heat prostration as painfully as on a Dry-Towner’s sword. We will hide ourselves among the rocks and hope that this dust has nothing to do with us, or with Jalak and his men; sleep if you can, Lady, but stay near to Melora and the little one, and caution her, if she wakes, to stay hidden in the shadow of the rocks.” She signaled to Devra and Rima, saying, “I shall set you two on watch; Leeanne and I have been leading and tracking all the night, and Nira has lost enough blood that she needs rest. But call me at once if that dust seems to turn in our direction. Lady, go now and try to sleep. And you too, domnina,” she added to Jaelle.
“May I bring my bread and finish it before I sleep?” Jaelle asked, and Kindra said, “Of course,” as she went away to rest. Gwennis, reaching into her pocket, smiled at Jaelle and said, “Are you hungry, chiya? Here is a sweet for you; suck it before you sleep, and it will keep your mouth from getting too dry in this heat.”
Jaelle accepted the candy with a small, shy inclination of her head. She looked around at the Amazons with curiosity-though Rohana could see that she was trying hard to repress it and, in politeness, ask nothing. At last she said to Gwennis, “Some of you look-almost like men. Why is that?”