I cried harder, from confusion and relief and nerves stretched way too far.

“I confess, I do not understand,” he sighed, standing up. “I am all confused.”

“You’re confused?” I choked. “You told me I’d be killed, or have my tongue torn out. Now you say I’m just to have another wash.”

“I know, Elsha.” He was laughing, quietly. “Here – let me help you up.”

He helped me to my feet, brushed back my tangled hair, and wiped my face with his hands. “I don’t understand anything anymore,” he muttered. “A rebel is vindicated, heresy is excused, and a harsha is the highest female in the land. You’ll drive me mad, Elsha of the Quelled.”

But he was smiling as he left.

If I had any false pride, any illusions about my worth, they were dispelled that day. Amasai had called me the highest female in the land. And so I was; but I was also Quelled, and I learned now what that meant to the Chosen.

Several women came and lit a fire in my room, and brought in a massive copper tub. They filled it with hot water from large clay jars, which they must have carried up countless stairs and passages. Then they told me to strip and get in. They spoke to me slowly, with many gestures, as if I were unintelligent. Their attitude nettled me. “I washed yesterday,” I said. “All over. I’m already clean.”

My voice startled them, blew away generations of belief. They stared, astounded. Then one of them, tightlipped, commanded me to do as I was directed.

I was too tired for a fight, so I took off all my clothes and stepped into the scalding bath. Never had I been totally immersed in water, hot or cold. The heat scalded me, made my skin pink, my fingers look like boiled grubs, and my head throb. The steam filled the room like a mist, and I felt suffocated. But it was a pleasant sensation, once I was used to it; and the heat eased the bruises I had got with Amasai on our struggle through the town.

The women gave me a cloth, a large rough piece of soap, and a small hard brush made of animal hair. They told me to scrub myself until every black speck and stain of the mine was gone. It must have taken me most of the afternoon. The water was cold when I finished. Even my nails were clean, and the soles of my feet. My hair was the colour of wheat in the firelight, cleaner than it had ever been.

The women spread out clothes for me, taken from the large carved wooden chest. One at a time the garments were handed to me: a fine woven underdress, pure white, and falling loosely to the floor; a crimson long-sleeved overdress, split from neck to waist, the embroidered hem falling just short of the white hem underneath; a wide yellow sash made of silk; and black fur-lined boots reaching almost to my knees. Over it all I wore a long sleeveless tunic of pure black fur. The crimson dress had a deep pocket in one side, into which I placed my woman-stone. The women, curious and whispering, watched me all the time.