The Sixth Discipline

by Carmen Webster Buxton

  ***

  “Ran-Del!”

  Ran-Del sat up on his bed. His grandfather sounded almost angry, and he had shouted from another room, in defiance of good manners.

  Ran-Del hurried to his grandmother’s great room but saw no sign of his grandfather. Instead his grandmother was there, muttering to herself as she put trail rations into a carry sack. He caught the words “evil old man,” and “get his comeuppance,” but that was all.

  “Ran-Del,” his grandfather said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “Come here and say goodbye to me. I’m going on a journey.”

  Surprised, Ran-Del stepped closer. “Where, Grandfather?”

  His grandfather frowned. “To your mother’s village. Father wants me to fetch her.”

  The answer stunned Ran-Del. It would take half a day to run to his mother’s village, and Isayah had barely rested from his seven day’s journey. “What? But, Grandfather, why would Great-grandfather send you? If he wants to see my mother surely someone else could fetch her? You’re—you’ve done enough already.”

  “I’m too old for another trip so soon after the last one?” Isayah finished the thought for him. “I think so, too, but Father doesn’t agree.”

  “It’s not fair,” Ran-Del said, his indignation building. There were plenty of younger men who could make the journey. Ran-Del could go himself. “I shall tell Great-grandfather so.”

  Isayah clicked his tongue in disapproval. “And spend the rest of the day face down in the dirt, like the last time you defied him?”

  Ran-Del recalled the incident quite clearly, but he wasn’t dissuaded. “If I have to, I will.”

  Isayah shook his head reproachfully. He boxed Ran-Del’s ears before Ran-Del could dodge. “I thought I taught you to choose your battles more carefully than that. Besides, you owe your great-grandfather respect, just as I do.”

  When Ran-Del tried to argue, Isayah finally cuffed him across the back of his head. “Let it go, Ran-Del. Listen to me! There’s more to this than an old man’s whim.”

  Ran-Del rubbed the spot on the back of his head where his grandfather’s hand had made contact. Isayah hadn’t lost his touch. “What is it then? Why does Great-grandfather want to see my mother?”

  His grandparents exchanged glances. Doubtless some communication passed between them.

  Finally, Mina spoke out loud. “Might as well tell him, Isayah. If the old man is serious, he needs to know.”

  Isayah tightened his mouth into a grimace, but nodded. “You’re right.” He glanced at Ran-Del as if he were debating a way to phrase his speech. “Your Great-grandfather wants to talk to your mother about your marriage.”

  Ran-Del suffered a surge of apprehension, followed by a spark of hope. “Has Great-grandfather changed his mind about Bettine?”

  His grandmother let out a snort “Stop dreaming of that heartless little witch! She doesn’t care about you. You’d know that if your brains didn’t go to sleep when you’re around her.”

  Isayah couldn’t hold back a smile at Mina’s words, but he gave a firm shake of his head. “Father wouldn’t say, but I don’t think that’s in his mind.”

  “Then what is?” Ran-Del said, alarmed. It seemed that he might have no time to make his own choice if Great-grandfather was determined that he should marry so soon.

  Isayah let out a sigh as he picked up the carry sack that Mina handed him. “I wish I knew. He’s sending four men with me, as an escort he said.”

  Ran-Del stared. It seemed a terrible waste of manpower to send five men when one would do. Unless his Great-grandfather thought that Ran-Del’s mother would refuse to come? She was no longer in the Falling Water clan and no longer had to obey Ji-Ran Jahanpur, but a suitable escort might impress her.

  Isayah hooked Ran-Del’s neck with one arm and pulled him close. “Be careful, Ran-Del. I’m worried that my father’s planning something—something that he’s afraid I’d fight against. Watch your step, boy! Don’t give him an excuse to discipline you. It may be that he has something cunning planned.”

  The warning astonished Ran-Del, especially because he knew his grandfather loved the old man. “Great-grandfather wouldn’t hurt me. You and I are his only descendants.”

  “I know that,” Isayah said, releasing Ran-Del. “But I also know he would stake us both out to feed the timber cats if he judged it necessary for the clan's survival. Don’t ever forget that, Ran-Del.”

  “Yes, Grandfather,” Ran-Del said, still amazed.

  He and his grandmother followed his grandfather out of the house to say goodbye. First Mina, and then Ran-Del made a formal farewell. Isayah joined the four young men who were waiting to accompany him, and they started off toward the distant village where Laiza Ramakdawala lived with her second husband.

  Ran-Del and his grandmother watched them run until they were out of sight.

  “There he goes,” Mina said bitterly. “Another day’s worth of running and another night away from home, all to bring that woman here.”

  Ran-Del said nothing. Respect for his grandmother kept him from calling her to account for speaking in such a tone about his mother.

  Mina was distracted and didn’t notice his silent disapproval. “What is that old man up to now? And when will that hussy’s father come to claim her?”

  This was too much a breach of manners to ignore. “She’s not a hussy, Grandmother,” Ran-Del said gently. “Francesca is our guest.”

  Mina sniffed. “Only because your great-grandfather won’t let me toss her out. I know well enough what to make of her—always putting her hands on you, she is. I can tell what’s on her mind easily, and I don’t need any psy sense to do it, either.”

  Ran-Del debated, as he followed her into her great room, whether he could argue respectfully but decided against it. Mina continued to grumble as she put a kettle on the fire and then, when the water was boiling, dropped in several fragrant leaves from a tea vine. Ran-Del watched her indulgently, considering whether to go and find Francesca and offer her some tea. She had looked very sleepy, so Ran-Del decided not to disturb her. Instead, he sat down and shelled hullberries under his grandmother’s direction. He was very surprised when he heard his great-grandfather’s voice outside the door to the kitchen.

  “Come into my room, Ran-Del.”

  “Yes, Great-grandfather,” Ran-Del said, instantly suspicious. If his great-grandfather was willing to fetch him rather than use his psy talent to tell Mina to bring him, it meant he was keeping his mind closed off completely from her telepathic gift.

  Ran-Del stood up to leave. Mina would have followed him, but Ji-Ran spoke again from beyond the doorway.

  “Wait here, please, Mina. I wish to speak to Ran-Del alone.”

  Mina’s mouth tightened into a thin, distrustful line. She gave Ran-Del a warning glance and sat down reluctantly. Ran-Del took a deep breath, ducked into the doorway, and followed his great-grandfather into the main great room.

  When he straightened up, he could smell faint traces of the medicine smoke from the morning’s seeing. When his Great-grandfather sat down in his chair, Ran-Del was a little shocked at his appearance. The seeing had left him looking every minute of his age. For the first time, Ran-Del contemplated the thought of his great-grandfather’s demise.

  Ji-Ran twisted his lips in a sour smile. “It’s not that bad, Ran-Del. I’m just a little tired. Close the curtain and come closer.”

  Ran-Del dropped the door curtain in place and moved to stand directly in front of the shaman. Ji-Ran sat and looked Ran-Del over for a few seconds. The old man’s eyes looked heavy with fatigue, but they scanned Ran-Del with satisfaction. After a few seconds he sighed a strange little sigh, half regret and half apprehension. “You’ve been a dutiful grandson, Ran-Del. Your grandparents are very fond of you.”

  For just a moment, Ran-Del was too surprised at this line of conversation to reply. “Thank you, Great-grandfather,” he said finally, recovering his wits. “I’m very fond of them.”

  �
��Do you remember,” Ji-Ran said, holding out his left arm so that the line of scar tissue showed, “the story of what happened when I was a young man? How I lost my first wife, and my children?”

  Ran-Del nodded slowly, agog. In his entire life, his great-grandfather had never once mentioned his dead first wife or their children to him. Ran-Del had heard the story from his grandparents as something he should know about but never discuss.

  “I was foolish twice, Ran-Del,” Ji-Ran said gravely. “First, I attempted to deny what I was, and second, I blamed your great-grandmother when Han-Ri forced me to marry again. I wasted many seasons holding onto my bitterness, nourishing it with hate, keeping it alive inside me. In that time I could have found happiness with Johanna, and instead I spent it resenting her because she wasn’t Iris. It wasn’t until Isayah was almost ten that I realized my mistake.”

  Ran-Del’s jaw dropped in surprise. He hadn’t realized that the previous shaman had coerced his great-grandparents into marriage.

  “Johanna wasn’t forced to it,” Ji-Ran said. “I was the one who had to be ordered to do his duty—who argued and was punished until I understood that I wouldn’t be allowed to bury my gift in my grief.” Ji-Ran touched the scar tissue on his left arm as if he were remembering old hurts.

  Ran-Del closed his mouth and swallowed nervously. “Why are you telling me this, Great-grandfather?”

  Ji-Ran closed his eyes and sighed again. He leaned back in his chair, and when he opened his eyes they seemed to bore a hole right into Ran-Del's soul. “Because you need to understand that sometimes we have to do things we don’t want to do. Sometimes our honor calls for us to make sacrifices for the good of the clan, the good of the Sansoussy.”

  Ran-Del recalled his grandfather’s warning. “What sacrifices, Great-grandfather?”

  “Tomorrow,” Ji-Ran said, his voice growing stronger as he spoke, “Stefan Hayden will come here to claim his daughter. I’ll speak with him, and he’ll stay a short while with us. When he leaves, you’ll go back to the city with him. You’ll marry his daughter and make your life in his city.”

  Ran-Del stood absolutely still in shock. For several seconds he was unable to speak. Had the old man gone crazy? Or was Ran-Del the one who was mad? Had he really heard his great-grandfather correctly? Finally, Ran-Del got his voice back. “No! No, Great-grandfather! I don’t want to marry Francesca and live in the city. She doesn’t want it, and I don’t want it. Nothing happened between us, Great-grandfather.”

  Ji-Ran sat up straighter in his chair. “I know quite well that you weren’t intimate with this woman. I know also that you’re not indifferent to her, or she to you. I hope that in time you'll both come to care for each other. But in any event, you will go to the city. Your destiny lies there. I’ve seen it quite clearly, and you must go.”

  “No!” Ran-Del said again. He was angry now. No Sansoussy had ever been asked to make such a sacrifice—to give up the freedom of life among the trees in exchange for the prison of city walls. “No, I won’t do it, Great-grandfather. You have no right to ask it of me.”

  “I have every right,” Ji-Ran shot back at him. “I’m both your great-grandfather and your shaman. You owe me not only respect but obedience.”

  “I won't do it!” Ran-Del shouted his answer. “There’s no reason I should have to live among savages.”

  “The reasons will become clear in time.” His great-grandfather’s eyes sparkled with anger. “Meanwhile, it’s enough that I’ve told you your duty. You will obey me, Ran-Del.”

  Ran-Del gritted his teeth. He thought back to the Hayden compound, the walls everywhere, the stale air, and the bad-mannered strangers who stared at him. “No,” he said, more quietly this time, his chest heaving with emotion. “I won’t do it.”

  Ji-Ran’s eyelids drooped as if he were finding the confrontation wearing. “You will show contrition for your offense,” he said, leaning his head back against the chair.

  Ran-Del hesitated, but the habit of obedience was too strong even for his anger. He walked to the place near the middle of the room where there was a strip of bare earthen floor between the two pieces of carpet. Ran-Del got down on his hands and knees and then lowered himself until he was lying face down in the dirt, his head turned to one side so he could see his great-grandfather. He put his arms close by his sides and lay still.

  Why was his great-grandfather doing this? Ran-Del remembered his grandfather’s words. But if Great-grandfather knew of some reason why the Falling Water People would suffer if Ran-Del didn’t go to the city, surely he would say so. Instead he had simply issued an edict, trying to steal Ran-Del’s life as abruptly as Stefan Hayden had.

  Could it be that the Sansoussy somehow needed the assistance of the House of Hayden? If that were true, what reason could there be not to explain the circumstance?

  Someone scratched on the door frame.

  “You may come in, Mina,” Ji-Ran said.

  Ran-Del's grandmother shot through the doorway and took in the scene at a glance. “Why are you punishing Ran-Del?”

  “That’s none of your concern,” Ji-Ran said. “This is a matter between Ran-Del and his shaman, and you will stay out of it, woman!”

  Mina glared at him. “You’re crazy as a sun-struck night bat. You may have got Isayah out of the way, but you still have me to deal with, old man.”

  Ran-Del swallowed nervously. His grandmother had never challenged the shaman before.

  Ji-Ran’s face set in grim lines. “I sent Isayah away because I had no wish to see him suffer punishment. If he were here, it would make no difference. Ran-Del will do as I tell him, and so will you. Go back to your room and wait, or I’ll have you taken away by force.”

  Ran-Del held his breath. Mina stood, undecided. Ji-Ran stared at her, and a moment later, Mina cried out in pain and clutched her forehead.

  “Grandmother!” Ran-Del called out to her, starting up from the floor in concern.

  “I did not give you permission to speak, Ran-Del,” Ji-Ran said, “or to rise.”

  Ran-Del felt a sudden, intense pain starting in his head and radiating out to his torso and then his limbs. It hurt worse than the medicine smoke headache, worse even than the charge of a shock rifle. He screamed and rolled on the floor in agony, fighting desperately to shut out the pain and not succeeding at all.

  “Stop it!” Mina said. “Stop hurting him.” She half stood and half leaned against the main support pole that held up the ceiling.

  The pain stopped. Ran-Del lay still.

  “Now,” Ji-Ran said, “you will leave this room, Mina, and wait until I tell you that you may come in.”

  Mina turned and almost staggered as she bent over to negotiate the doorway. Ji-Ran turned his attention back to Ran-Del.

  A moan escaped Ran-Del. He rolled onto his side.

  “You will resume your place, Ran-Del,” his great-grandfather said.

  Ran-Del dragged himself back to the patch of bare earth and lay face down again. His mind still reeled from the barrage of pain so he invoked the Third Discipline to regain control. Once he had achieved samad state, he felt his mind and body returning to normal. After a while he brought himself out of samad state to consider his great-grandfather’s actions.

  Fear gripped Ran-Del. His great-grandfather had never done anything so unexpected or behaved so callously. Abruptly, Ran-Del remembered the seeing that morning. What vision could his great-grandfather have had? Ran-Del could think of nothing that justified such a combination of arrogance, cruelty, and secrecy.

  Ji-Ran stayed where he was, unmoving, for quite some time. Ran-Del thought the old man might have fallen asleep. Time dragged slowly. Ran-Del couldn’t see the ceiling flaps, so he had no clue as to how late it was when Ji-Ran stirred in his chair, sitting up straighter and opening his eyes wide. He looked expectantly at the door and in a few seconds there was a firm knock on the door frame.

  “You may enter, Francesca Hayden,” Ji-Ran said.

  Francesca lifted the curt
ain and ducked into the doorway, glancing around the room as she entered. Her eyes went wide when she saw Ran-Del lying in the dirt.

  “What the hell is going on?” she demanded, utterly oblivious to the need for any greeting.

  “Nothing that need concern you,” Ji-Ran said pleasantly.

  “Why is Ran-Del lying on the ground?” Francesca said, coming closer.

  “Ran-Del is showing contrition,” Ji-Ran said. “When someone breaks a rule, it's our custom that he should express his penitence in this way.”

  “Yeah?” Francesca said flippantly. “Whoever made up that custom didn’t have to do the laundry. What rule did Ran-Del break?”

  Ran-Del gritted his teeth at having to listen to them discussing him as if he weren’t in the room. He wanted to tell Francesca to leave, but he couldn’t speak without permission.

  Ji-Ran studied the outland woman from under his brows, his head drooping as if he were tired. “The rule of obedience. I’ve given Ran-Del an order, and he has refused to obey it.”

  Francesca looked over at Ran-Del again. “Are you going to make him lie there until he does what you want?”

  Ji-Ran’s mouth twitched in the faintest of smiles. “I would if I could. But I don’t have that kind of time. Ran-Del can be very stubborn.”

  Francesca lifted her eyebrows. “I can see where he gets it.”

  Ji-Ran’s smile widened. “It’s refreshing for me to have a conversation with someone who’s not in awe of me.”

  Francesca almost snorted. “I’m not in awe of anyone. If you ask me,” she shot a look at Ran-Del, still lying silently on the ground, “there’s entirely too much awe around here.”

  Ran-Del clamped his mouth tighter. Sooner or later Great-grandfather would ask her to leave, but in the meantime, Ran-Del had to bear her comments in silence.

  “Doesn’t he get to talk?” Francesca asked when Ji-Ran made no reply.

  “No,” Ji-Ran said, “not until I say so.”

  Francesca cocked an eye at Ran-Del. “Is that true, Ran-Del?”

  Ran-Del didn’t let himself even meet her gaze, let alone answer her. Somehow her presence made his posture humiliating in a way that it had never been before, not since the first time he was judged old enough to suffer this particular form of punishment.

  Ji-Ran chuckled softly. “Ran-Del won’t speak. He’s a Sansoussy, and a Sansoussy is nothing without discipline. Right now, he’s wishing that you would go away.”

  Francesca looked faintly disgusted. “Is it considered good manners to reveal what someone else is thinking?”

  Ji-Ran laughed out loud. “You really are good for me. I wish you could visit for longer than a few days.”

  Francesca’s head came up. “A few days? You said my father would be here tomorrow.”

  Ji-Ran nodded. “Certainly. He should arrive around midday. I’ll speak with him, and if all goes well, we’ll hold the betrothal tomorrow night.”

  Ran-Del held in a groan. If the old man felt secure enough to tell her about his plan, then he fully intended it to happen.

  Francesca’s eyes locked on the shaman’s face. “Betrothal? What betrothal?”

  “Why, yours and Ran-Del’s, of course.”

  Francesca stared at the old shaman without speaking for several seconds. She looked from his face to Ran-Del lying prone on the floor. “It seems I’m not the only one with an insane relative, Ran-Del.”

  Ran-Del ached to jump up and shout at her to go, but if he moved or spoke before his great-grandfather released him from punishment, it would give the old man a reason to punish him further.

  Francesca’s face tightened and her mouth set in a firm line. “So, is that the order that Ran-Del refused to obey?”

  Ji-Ran smiled with satisfaction. “You’re not stupid, at any rate.”

  Francesca folded her arms across her chest and scowled. “You can let him up now. It doesn’t matter whether Ran-Del is willing to obey you or not. I have no intention of going through with my father’s scheme. What I really want to know is, why would you want him to go along with it? What does it buy you?”

  Ran-Del wanted to know, too. But would the old man tell Francesca more than he had told Ran-Del?

  Ji-Ran held out his hand. “Give me your hand, Francesca.”

  She hesitated, then held her right hand out reluctantly.

  Ji-Ran reached for it and grasped it firmly. “Do you know what I saw when I first took your hand, Francesca Hayden?”

  “No,” she said. “I only know that whatever it was made you hold a seeing today.”

  Ji-Ran nodded. “You’re quite right. I had to hold the seeing because I needed more information. When I took your hand, I saw my great-great-grandchild. There might be more children later, of course. I can only see a limited distance into the future.”

  Ran-Del swallowed convulsively. If that was true, had the seeing somehow revealed a reason why only the outland woman could perpetuate Ji-Ran’s line? But that wasn’t possible. Francesca’s children would be outlanders, not Sansoussy.

  Francesca stared at the old man. “How the hell could you know that?” She pulled her hand away. “Even if you had a vision of me with a baby or something, how could you know it was your great-great-grandchild?”

  “Well,” Ji-Ran said reasonably, “it was Ran-Del’s child, therefore, it must be my great-great-grandchild. One thing follows the other, you see?”

  Francesca used an expletive. Ran-Del flinched, but Ji-Ran didn’t look offended.

  She glanced at Ran-Del again. “Are you just going to lie there in the dirt? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself, Ran-Del?”

  He gritted his teeth. Didn’t she understand anything about manners or duty? A long silence filled the room.

  “I told you he wouldn’t speak,” the shaman said. “Perhaps it would be best if you were to leave. You really are making him uncomfortable.”

  Francesca made a suggestion that was totally at odds with Ji-Ran’s dignity and position.

  The old man smiled at her. “You and Ran-Del should deal well together. He has a tendency to take himself too seriously.”

  “Ran-Del wants to marry Bettine,” Francesca said sharply.

  Ji-Ran made a noise of disgust. “Ran-Del wants to sleep with Bettine. If I had allowed them to marry, they’d be miserable by now. Bettine feels nothing for Ran-Del, and he knows it. After only a few days in his company, you already care for him more than she does, and she’s known him all her life.”

  Ran-Del darted a look at Francesca before he could stop himself. Did she really care for him? He knew she didn’t dislike him, but it seemed too soon for her to have formed any real attachment.

  Francesca opened her mouth to speak and then bit her lip.

  “It doesn’t matter how good a liar you are with me,” Ji-Ran said. “I know you must find that frustrating. It’s annoying to have perfected a skill and find that it now has no utility.”

  “See here,” Francesca said angrily, “I don’t know much about how your gift works, but I don’t see how what you see could always be the only alternative. Why has this maternal vision of me inspired you to force Ran-Del to comply with my Pop’s half-baked plan?”

  It was a good question. Ran-Del waited to see what his great-grandfather would say.

  Ji-Ran nodded in appreciation. “You’re right, Francesca. There is more to it than that. I’m afraid I can’t tell you all of it. Sometimes it’s more dangerous to know too much than to know too little.”

  “That’s a convenient piece of garbage,” Francesca said crudely. “It’s easy to say you see something and insist on having your way if you won’t explain what it was you saw.”

  Finally, Ji-Ran seemed annoyed by her disrespectful manner. “Ran-Del is my great-grandson. Do you think I’d propose this course of action if I didn’t think it was the best thing to do? Do I seem to you to be willing to sacrifice my family for no reason?”

  “No,” Francesca said levelly. “I think you’d sacrifice th
em in a second if you had a good enough reason. I just want to know what that reason is.”

  She had sized his great-grandfather up quite well. Ran-Del wished he could believe Ji-Ran would tell her what she wanted to know.

  “I, on the other hand,” Ji-Ran said, “have no intention of telling you. All I will say is that Ran-Del’s destiny lies in your city. If you chose not to marry him, then I’ll give him to your father as a chattel.”

  Ran-Del felt his heart sink even more. He had no hope if that was the case.

  Francesca said nothing. She looked at Ran-Del expectantly. He kept his mouth tightly closed and tried not to meet her gaze.

  “Well,” Francesca said grimly, “you’ve given me something to think about.”

  Ji-Ran leaned back in his chair again, and waved one hand as wearily if it held a heavy weight. “Go away. I still have to deal with Ran-Del, and I’m very tired.”

  Francesca glanced at Ran-Del again. He kept his eyes averted.

  “I’m going now, Ran-Del,” she said. “You can tell me later how you feel about all this.”

  He made no answer, and Ji-Ran didn’t speak again. At last, Francesca ducked out the door. Ran-Del let out a silent breath of relief.

  The shaman waited until she was out voice range. “You may get up now, Ran-Del, and kneel by the fire.”

  Ran-Del pulled himself up cautiously. Since he was directed to kneel, it meant that he was to be punished further. What form that punishment would take was unclear, but at least Francesca wouldn’t be there to witness it. Ran-Del walked to the fireplace and sank down on his knees on the carpet. Ji-Ran struggled to his feet and walked slowly to where Ran-Del knelt.

  “I told you that I won’t tolerate disobedience, Ran-Del,” the old shaman said. “I’ll give you one last chance to avoid punishment. Will you do as I say and go to the city to live?”

  Ran-Del drew in a breath, held it, let it out. He felt as if he were walking through the forest blindfolded. Ji-Ran had made a decision but refused to explain why. Ran-Del had to either accept his edict and sacrifice himself for some unknown reason, or defy his shaman and take the consequences. “No, Great-grandfather. I won’t.”

  Ji-Ran nodded as if he had expected that answer. He sighed briefly, and took a large steel rod from the rack on the side of the fireplace. He gave it a cursory inspection, and then shoved it into the fire. Ran-Del’s heart sank; the rod was twice as long and half again as thick as any his grandfather had ever used for punishment. He thought for just a moment about telling his great-grandfather that he would obey him and then pushed the thought away from him. Punishment might be harsh, but it was, after all, temporary. He would live through it, and then the outlanders would go away and leave him alone.

  “You have some time to think about it,” Ji-Ran said dryly. “It’ll take several minutes for the steel to get hot.”

  Ran-Del didn’t answer. He didn’t even consider asking his great-grandfather not to punish him. It would be useless.

  Ji-Ran sat back down on his chair and watched him kneel in the firelight. Ran-Del stared back at him. It was getting dim in the room, and the flickering light from the fire made his great-grandfather’s features stand out in sharp relief. Ji-Ran’s face had never looked so craggy or so old.

  Neither of them spoke; the silence in the room continued as the light got dimmer. Finally, Ji-Ran dragged himself to his feet again and walked slowly to the fireplace. He wrapped a cloth around the end of the rod and lifted it from the fire with both hands. The metal glowed white hot.

  “Will you obey me, Ran-Del?” Ji-Ran asked.

  “No, Great-grandfather.”

  “Then you must suffer punishment.”

  Ran-Del took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “Where?”

  His great-grandfather held the rod out toward him. “Grasp the rod in your left hand,” he said, “and lay your arm against it until I say you can let go.”

  Ran-Del swallowed hard. Not only pain, but shame. A scar on his arm would show all the time, except in deepest winter—just like Ji-Ran's own scar. Ran-Del held out his hand. He could feel the heat of the metal without even touching it. It took all the force of his will to make his hand close the distance and grasp the rod near the cloth. Instantly, his hand clenched in pain. He jerked back involuntarily, set his jaw tightly to keep from screaming, and then laid his arm on the white hot metal. The pain spread, shooting up his arm in fierce waves of intense agony. Ran-Del couldn’t hold back a gasp. His body jerked convulsively, and then he clamped his jaw shut again.

  It seemed to go on forever, but it was only a matter of a few seconds before Ji-Ran nodded. “Enough! Let go!”

  Ran-Del had difficulty making the fingers of his left hand move enough to release the rod. Ji-Ran had to pull it away from him. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. A sudden weakness overtook Ran-Del. He swayed back and forth on his knees. Ji-Ran gripped him by the shoulder to keep him from falling.

  Ran-Del struggled to control the pain.

  His Great-grandfather’s grip tightened for a moment. “You will not use the Disciplines, Ran-Del.”

  Ran-Del couldn’t bring himself to answer, but he obeyed. He had to accept punishment or agree to leave the Sansoussy forever. He held his tortured left arm in front of him, a mass of seared flesh and tormented nerves. Ran-Del closed his eyes and willed himself not to feel the pain. It didn’t work.

  His hand, in particular, throbbed in anguish. He opened his eyes and looked at his fingers. Tiny bits of flesh had stuck to the rod when he had pulled away from it. The band that Stefan Hayden had secured around his left wrist was still there, and it marked the only place on his inner arm where the flesh wasn’t seared. The rod had been hot enough to leave a black mark on the band, but it hadn’t visibly damaged it in any other way.

  Ran-Del felt sick to his stomach. He looked away, not wanting to study his own brutalized flesh.

  “Now,” Ji-Ran said, still gripping his shoulder, “will you obey me, Ran-Del?”

  “No, Great-grandfather.” Ran-Del tried to make his answer firm, but he knew his voice sounded weak.

  Ji-Ran said nothing for several seconds. He seemed reluctant to proceed with whatever course he had chosen, but finally he spoke. “Very well, Ran-Del. Even after punishment, you have chosen not to obey your shaman. There is no place in the Falling Water Clan for such disobedience. You will be cast out.”

  For a moment, Ran-Del didn’t even feel the pain in his arm, his shock was so complete. To be cast out was worse than death. When you died, your family mourned you. If you were cast out, it was as if you had never been born. No one was allowed even to speak your name.

  Ji-Ran let go of Ran-Del’s shoulder and strode back to his chair. He sat down heavily and studied Ran-Del. “I have summoned Doan. When she comes, I’ll ask her to gather the elders. Remove your caste bracelet.”

  Ran-Del didn’t even try. The bracelet was on his right wrist, and his left hand was now useless. “Please, Great-grandfather. Please don’t do this.”

  Ji-Ran frowned. “You still have a choice, Ran-Del.”

  There was a knock on the door frame.

  “Come, Doan,” Ji-Ran said.

  The elder ducked through the door and straightened up, taking in the setting with one quick glance. “So it’s come to this?” she asked Ji-Ran.

  He nodded. “He needs help removing his bracelet.”

  She stepped over to Ran-Del and lifted his limp right arm. Ran-Del didn’t struggle as she slid the knot that loosened his caste bracelet and slipped the bracelet from his wrist. There was no point in struggling. His life as a Sansoussy was over.

  “Give it to me,” Ji-Ran commanded, “and fetch the elders now.”

  “Yes, Ji-Ran.” She handed him the bracelet, bowed as she left, and then ducked back through the doorway as silently as she had come.

  Ran-Del couldn’t maintain his posture any longer. He sank to the floor in a limp heap and looked up at his father’s father’s father. �
��Please don’t cast me out, Great-grandfather.”

  “I am no longer your great-grandfather,” Ji-Ran said, his voice stern as he tossed the caste bracelet onto the floor at his feet. “And soon I won’t be your shaman. Ran-Del Jahanpur will cease to be—not only to me, but to Isayah and to Mina, and to the rest of the village—even to Laiza Ramakdawala.”

  Ran-Del felt an enormous sorrow well up inside of him. “Why? Why, Great-grandfather? What have I done?”

  “You have disobeyed me.”

  Ran-Del bowed his head and let out a deep, shuddering sob. There was only one way out. Anything was better than this. “Very well, Great-grandfather. I’ll do as you wish.”

  Ji-Ran pushed himself up with one arm. “You’ll marry the outland woman?”

  “Yes, Great-grandfather.”

  “And go to live in the city with her and her father?”

  “Yes, Great-grandfather.”

  Ji-Ran let out a sigh of relief and bent down to pick up the caste bracelet. He straightened up with an effort, groaning as his back creaked audibly. “Come here, Ran-Del.”

  Ran-Del staggered to his feet and shambled over to him.

  “Give me your hand,” Ji-Ran ordered.

  Ran-Del held out his right hand numbly, and Ji-Ran slipped the bracelet on and tightened it.

  “There,” he said. “I’ve let Doan know the elders won’t be needed. You can go to your grandmother now, and let her tend the burn, and then you may use any Discipline except the Fifth.”

  “Very well, Great-grandfather.” It was only a temporary respite. Soon, he would be forced to leave this place again, and all the people he loved.

  “You can come back to visit, if you wish,” Ji-Ran said. “But don’t visit too often. You must make your way in the city. That’s where your fate lies.”

  Ran-Del didn’t answer. Oblivious to the pain the movement caused him, he tucked his right wrist under his left arm as if to keep his bracelet safe from anyone who might try to take it away again.

  There was an insistent scratching at the door.

  “He’s coming, Mina,” Ji-Ran said.

  Mina pulled aside the curtain for Ran-Del and gasped when she saw his injured arm. Ran-Del straightened up beside her in the storage room and found himself shaking all over.

  Mina threw her arms around him, taking care not to crush his burned arm. “Oh, Ran-Del! Ran-Del, I’ll miss you so!”

  “I’ll miss you, Grandmother.” Ran-Del returned her embrace as best he could. The full import of his great-grandfather’s edict hit him, and he laid his head on Mina’s shoulder and wept as he hadn’t wept since the day that Isayah had taken him from his mother’s house.