“Precious Wind,” she whispered. “Look quickly. Do you see the earring in the child’s ear?”
Precious Wind cast a quick glance behind them. “I see it. Gold. Some triangular emblem on it. Why?”
“Isn’t it odd to find adornment on people who don’t look at themselves?” Xulai asked. No one answered.
After a time, Abasio walked forward along the line of wagons and asked Bear, “Will there be more of these people?”
“Not these, precisely,” said Bear. “But the guard said there were many villages up the slope. We can hope they’re not right on top of the road the way that one was!”
They passed a wide spot at the next switchback, the second turn to the north, a sizeable one, already occupied by several wagons. Above it was a tower, glued to the cliff-side like a swallow’s nest. A bell in the tower tolled briefly. Xulai looked questioningly at Abasio, and he shrugged. “The bell probably lets the wagons coming down know that there’s traffic coming up on the road. I’d guess there’s no place to pass between here and the next turn.”
His guess was verified as the other wagons pulled onto the road behind them, and they traveled upward together throughout what was left of the afternoon. The sun was low as they drove north toward the next village, this one built not far from the next looping turn to the south, the seventh switchback turn the cliff-side road had made. Bear passed the word for all of them to keep their eyes on the road and do no “looking,” but they were stopped once again, this time by a white-robed woman who stood in the center of the road, blocking the way, and then, having stopped them, stared into their faces as she walked along the line of wagons, stopping at Abasio’s wagon.
“You are entering the village of Those Becoming Pure,” she said in a ringing voice. “Do you intend to stop here?”
Precious Wind asked, “Do you object to our camping for the night just beyond the town?”
“Not so long as you are robed and do not speak to us or so loudly among yourselves that you are overheard. Sanctified robes are available in all sizes; the campsite cistern may be used for a fee; audible conversation by unbelievers is forbidden.” The words were mechanical, made bloodless by repetition.
“The robes,” said Bear, who had followed her on foot. “You rent them?”
“Sell them,” the woman rattled off. “Obviously, once you have worn them, they are unclean and must be destroyed.”
“How much?” asked Bear. “Six men, three women, one child.”
“Seven men,” said Xulai. “Abasio is with us.”
“Ten Gahls,” the woman announced.
“Good merciful goddess,” whispered Precious Wind, reaching for the moneybag she was carrying. “That’d buy me a Tingawan court robe embroidered in pearls!”
When she handed over the coins, the woman accepted them in a square of ragged cloth, carefully and without touching them. She folded the cloth and put it in her pocket. “Drive your wagons to the campground to let the other traffic go on. You may pick up your robes at the vestry, the blue building on the right.” She turned to stalk ahead of them.
“Her ear,” Xulai whispered to Precious Wind. “When we get closer, look at her ear.”
Precious Wind and Xulai were dropped off at the vestry and received a pile of robes that were neither new nor clean. When Xulai received her share, she also received a stroke and gentle squeeze from the woman’s hand along with what seemed to be a wink, though it was very quick. As she pulled her own garment over her other clothing she tried to figure out what the transaction, in all its details, had meant, but was distracted when Precious Wind asked, “What is the purpose of your becoming pure?”
“Not to be sent back,” said the woman matter-of-factly. “If we are pure enough, we will be so treasured by the king we will be allowed to stay.”
“Who told you that?” asked Xulai.
The woman turned her face away but looked at Xulai from the corner of her eye. “That would be the one who comes. The one who tells us what we must do. She comes down from above, up from below, sometimes, often . . .” And she winked at Xulai again, frankly, with a quirky smile. “We believe her, of course. We are greatly in her debt.”
They walked on to the wide, flat ledge at the turn. It held a grove of well-grown trees, a cistern, and an enclosed latrine as well as their wagons, which were in the process of being arranged according to Bear’s dictates.
“It’s obviously a regular way-halt,” said Bear with annoyance. “The cistern collects rainwater from upslope, but there’s no grazing, so we’ll have to feed the animals from what’s in the dray.” He motioned at Pecky, directing him as to the placement of his wagon. “We could more simply have paid a modest rent than have all this nonsense about buying robes. This one is so old and worn, it’s obviously been sold a hundred times before, despite all that nonsense about its being unclean and needing to be destroyed. I wonder if the king’s traffic is halted and extorted in this fashion.”
Abasio joined them in time to hear this last phrase. “What else could they be living on?” he murmured. “I saw no gardens, no fields, no animals, no craftsmen busy creating things. They need food, they need clothing, they need that heavy rope to make the nets that keep their houses and cisterns in place. Your ten Ghals probably supports both this village and the one below.”
“If not all of them up and down the cliff,” said Xulai.
“Speaking of king’s traffic,” said Precious Wind. “The woman we met wore a gold earring. So did one of the children back at the other village. I got a good look at this last one; it’s stamped with an emblem, a
