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“
It
is
fitting
,
”
the
crowd
responded
.
The
old
woman
nodded
,
whispered
:
“
I
give
her
the
silver
skies
,
the
golden
desert
and
its
shining
rocks
,
the
green
fields
that
will
be
.
I
give
these
to
Sayyadina
Chani
.
And
lest
she
forget
that
she
’
s
servant
of
us
all
,
to
her
fall
the
menial
tasks
in
this
Ceremony
of
the
Seed
.
Let
it
be
as
Shai
-
hulud
will
have
it
.
”
She
lifted
a
brown
-
stick
arm
,
dropped
it
.
Jessica
,
feeling
the
ceremony
close
around
her
with
a
current
that
swept
her
beyond
all
turning
back
,
glanced
once
at
Paul
’
s
question
-
filled
face
,
then
prepared
herself
for
the
ordeal
.
“
Let
the
watermasters
come
forward
,
”
Chani
said
with
only
the
slightest
quaver
of
uncertainty
in
her
girl
-
child
voice
.
Now
,
Jessica
felt
herself
at
the
focus
of
danger
,
knowing
its
presence
in
the
watchfulness
of
the
throng
,
in
the
silence
.
A
band
of
men
made
its
way
through
a
serpentine
path
opened
in
the
crowd
,
moving
up
from
the
back
in
pairs
.
Each
pair
carried
a
small
skin
sack
,
perhaps
twice
the
size
of
a
human
head
.
The
sacks
sloshed
heavily
.
The
two
leaders
deposited
their
load
at
Chani
’
s
feet
on
the
ledge
and
stepped
back
.
Jessica
looked
at
the
sack
,
then
at
the
men
.
They
had
their
hoods
thrown
back
,
exposing
long
hair
tied
in
a
roll
at
the
base
of
the
neck
.
The
black
pits
of
their
eyes
stared
back
at
her
without
wavering
.
A
furry
redolence
of
cinnamon
arose
from
the
sack
,
wafted
across
Jessica
.
