***
When Ran-Del recovered his senses, he found himself lying on the pallet with his wrists and ankles tied tightly to the frame.
Doan’s face appeared over his within seconds of when he opened his eyes. Ali joined her, but Isayah wasn’t in the sight.
“Why am I bound?” Ran-Del demanded.
“Because you’re fighting us,” Doan said. “Once you’ve become receptive, we’ll untie you.”
She laid a hand on Ran-Del’s arm, and he tried to jerk back from her. Ali moved to Ran-Del’s other side, and laid a hand on his other arm. Ran-Del gritted his teeth. He wanted to scream, to demand to be released, but instead he focused on keeping their intrusion out of his mind. Doan and Ali were just as determined to break down his mental barriers. It took longer this time for Ran-Del to lose consciousness, but eventually, his eyes rolled back and he sank back on the pallet, limp and still.
They kept at it for hours, two of them at a time. When Ran-Del woke next, his grandfather was there with Ali. After that it was Isayah and Doan. When Ran-Del awoke from that session, it was to the bitter odor of an herbal stimulant. They weren’t waiting for him to come to by himself, now. They weren’t letting him rest at all.
Ran-Del was exhausted. His limbs ached from struggling against his bonds, and he was wearier from his mental battles than he had ever been from a hard day’s work. Isayah sat beside him and wiped his forehead gently with a cold cloth. Ran-Del shivered at the sudden coolness.
“Yield, Ran-Del,” Isayah said. “You know we won’t hurt you. Let us in, and it’ll be much easier.”
“I can’t, Grandfather,” Ran-Del said desperately. “I’ve tried, but I can’t.”
Isayah’s eyes looked down at him with sadness. “Then we’ll have to keep going until you have no strength left to fight.”
They started again.
Ran-Del lost track of time, but he was vaguely aware of stars visible through the ceiling flap. They untied him long enough to let him relieve himself and then gave him a cup of water to drink. Ran-Del didn’t struggle when they pushed him back down on the pallet and bound him again. He was conserving his strength for the inner battle.
Finally, as the dim light of dawn began to spill into the lodge, Ran-Del surrendered. He lay, conscious but quiescent, and offered no resistance of any kind.
Doan smiled in triumph, and Isayah closed his eyes in a silent prayer of thanks. They began the real Ordeal.
Ran-Del could feel their presence, all three of them, almost as if they were under his skin. They moved through his mind, uncovering his memories as if they were unpacking boxes. Ran-Del let them see whatever they wished to see. They spoke to him with their minds and demanded that he answer back in the same way. They pushed him to try to use his gift on them, to try to break down their own barriers. Ran-Del did as he was told.
At last, when they had found out all they needed to know, they let him sleep.
When he woke he felt stronger, but he still had no will of his own. The Ordeal went on as they tried him again and again, testing his abilities, forcing him to try to use his mind in ways that he hadn’t anticipated. Doan would roll a many-sided die and demand that Ran-Del predict how it would land. When he was correct, he was left in peace, but when he was wrong, she inflicted pain upon him. He wasn’t often right. He had no more luck in trying to control the path of the die, or in otherwise affecting his surroundings, and again he was punished for it.
By the end of the third day, Ran-Del was weary to the bone. He felt as if he would never be let out the lodge, never see the light of day again. He sat cross-legged on the bare earthen floor by the pallet, enduring all they sent against him until, finally, Doan stood and announced the end.
“The Ordeal of Revelation is finished,” she said. “You may rest while we decide our decree.”
Ran-Del blinked as he looked up at her. It was over. He started to rise, and then fell back on the pallet, too tired to stand up.
He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he knew he must have slept for a long time because the bright morning light streamed in through the open ceiling flaps when he woke. His grandfather sat on the ground next to him, watching him closely.
“Good morning, Ran-Del,” Isayah said.
Ran-Del sat up. “Good morning, Grandfather.”
“How do you feel?”
Ran-Del considered. “Like a timber cat dragged me through the forest and then let the tree bears play tug of war with me.”
Isayah laughed and stood up. “Come and have some tea. You’ll feel better.”
Ran-Del got to his feet carefully. He was hungry and thirsty, but more than anything, he wanted to wash and change his clothes.
“Before you go back to the house,” Isayah said, “you might want to put this back on.” He handed Ran-Del his caste bracelet.
Ran-Del took it carefully, his eyes scanning the beads anxiously. There was the carved stone clan marker in the middle, with the three blue beads next to it, and then one silver bead and a plain black one. On the other side of the clan stone was his red warrior bead and four sky-gold glass beads.
“Four beads?” Ran-Del said. “How can I keep the red bead and still have four glass beads?”
“A warrior bead is never rescinded once it’s earned,” Isayah said. “It was Father’s choice to smash his, as a penance. You’ve done nothing wrong and have no cause to punish yourself.”
“Four beads!” Ran-Del said again.
Isayah smiled. “It should be five. Certainly your ability to see into other minds will be stronger than mine once you learn the Sixth Discipline, but it was decided not to award a fifth bead because you have no reliable means to see the future, and thus should never be a shaman. You’ll never hold a seeing, Ran-Del.”
Ran-Del smiled back. “I don’t regret it. Especially not if it’s anything like an Ordeal.”
Isayah laughed again. “If you think the Ordeal was bad,” he said lightly, “think again. We have a lot of work to do.”
The Sixth Discipline Page 86
