The woman nodded, held up her needlework to contemplate it more closely. "Are your friends back there coming in?"
Perkar shrugged. "I don't know."
"You keep bad company, you know."
"You mean our guide?" Perkar asked.
"I mean the Lemeyi. If he brought you here, he must think you mean mischief. What mischief do you intend here, Oak-Tree Boy?"
"I am no longer a boy," Perkar said softly.
"So you say. You have yet to prove that to me, however. What do you want here?"
Perkar fidgeted. He had expected a fight, perhaps, but not this interrogation.
"I told you my name," he said. "It would be polite if you would tell me yours."
"What good would that do you?" she asked.
"I might know a song about you," Perkar said. "So that I could honor you. Or my friend, Eruka, who is a singer…"
She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "There are no songs about me, Oak-Boy. At least none you would have heard. Now, tell me what you want. Or can I guess?"
"I want to see the weapons of the Forest Lord."
"Well, there they are," she said. "You see them. Would you like to examine them more closely?"
"Yes, Goddess, I would."
She frowned in irritation. "Don't call me that," she said.
"You haven't given me a name to call you," he pointed out.
"Don't call me anything, then." She quit her needlework, crossed her hands over it. "What do you want the weapons for, Oak-Boy? To win glory in battle? To kill someone and take his damakuta? You could do that with the sword you have."
"I didn't say I wanted to take them," Perkar replied.
"You didn't deny it, either, and that's a good thing, too, or you would have lied," the woman replied. "Do you think the Lemeyi would have even brought you down here if he did not believe you would steal one of them? What do you want them for?"
"I wish to kill a god," Perkar said.
She nodded. "Of course. And what did this god do, that you hate him so?"
"I don't want to tell you that," Perkar said. "Not unless it will convince you to give them to me."
She smiled wanly. "I have nothing to give you, Perkar. The treasure will not leave this room while I am alive."
"What?" Perkar was distracted by a furious spate of whispering out in the big cave. Apad and Eruka were still out there, discussing something with the Lemeyi. Something Perkar should know about, no doubt, for it seemed the moment of truth was approaching.
"I must fight you then?" he asked.
"I can't fight," she said. "I'm just an old woman."
"You said the weapons would not leave while you are alive."
"That is what I said. I never said I would fight you. Here." She reached over and grasped one of the smaller swords. Holding the blade gingerly, she held it out to him.
"Take it. Take it and leave."
Puzzled, Perkar took the brass-wound hilt of the sword. It tingled against his palm, and the blade shivered, like a god appearing. As if the blade, too, was just a "painting" over something deeper and more real.
"Leave," she repeated.
Perkar took a deep breath and began to back out of the cave. He kept the blade in guard position, ready at any moment if the old woman should transform into some fierce beast. She did not; rather, she sighed and shook her head.
Near the entrance to the treasure cave, Perkar laid the sword down and walked out. After only a step or two he frowned, then turned furiously. He bent to pick the weapon up again, but as soon as he did he set it back down. Seven times he tried to carry the sword from the room; each time he ended by depositing it back where it rested.
"How are you doing that?" he demanded, finally.
"I'm not doing it," she said. "The weapons are bound to my blood. They will not leave me."
"That is a lie," Apad hissed from behind him. "Perkar, she is a sorceress. Can't you feel the spell on you?"
Perkar certainly knew the spell was there; the overwhelming compulsion to lay the sword down did not come from any part of himself, that was certain. But it somehow seemed wrong to suspect the woman of casting the spell.
"You try to take it," Perkar told Apad. He watched the woman closely as Apad tried, without success, to remove the sword from the room. She made no move at all. Frustrated, Perkar picked up the sword and strode toward—rather than away from—the woman. He thought he saw something in her eyes then—fear? Resignation?
"You are going to kill me," she said. "You will kill me for your vendetta against this god?"
"I have no quarrel with you, lady," Perkar maintained. "If you will just tell me how I might take these weapons, I will leave you in peace."
She sighed. "You would have to kill me," she said.
"I don't want to do that."
"Perkar!" Apad warned, from behind him. "Watch yourself! Watch her witchery!"
Perkar turned to Apad. "I think the witchery here is from the Forest Lord, not her."
"Do not mistake her for a Human Being, Perkar," Eruka called from outside. Apad was edging farther into the room. "The Lemeyi has warned us of her illusions."
"Are you a Human woman?" Perkar demanded. "Or are you a goddess?"
"Which answer will save my life?" she asked.
"Perkar!" Apad cautioned again, as Perkar moved closer.