Soon, as was the custom between the two, the kajira began speaking softly of things she wished to understand. Her hair blew in the soft breeze of the morning as she lifted her firm buttocks, reaching deep to gather the offending shoots. Softly and sweetly, she shared with the Mistress things she had noticed, that didn’t seem to follow what she had been trained, and left her confused. Her eyes shined up at the Mistress in longing to understand and become a better kajira.

With a rustling of robes, the Mistress quietly looked in the distance, watching as two kajirae tended to the animals, laughing and playing as they fed and watered them. The little kajira, used to the Mistress’ quiet ways by now, merely shuffled along the garden row, her hands busy at her work as she waited.

Reaching out a hand as wrinkled as the baked, cracked soil, the Mistress drew up a stone from the ground and motioned the little kajira over. Eager to hear the woman’s words, the little golden haired girl quickly moved to kneel before the bench, lifting her head high as she listened intently.

The old woman held her hand out, the stone resting on her palm, “What do you see, little one?”

The little kajira, familiar with the woman’s ways of teaching by now, still laughed and answered “a stone, Mistress.”

Cackling, the robed wise woman took the kajiras hand and turned the palm upwards, dropping the stone into it. “Aii, a stone.... but not just a stone.” She turned it upon the girls fingers, “See how now it could be used for cutting?”

The girl nodded and the woman turned the stone yet again, “See how now it could be for grinding grains?” Waves of gold tumbled in the breeze as the kajira nodded again. “Yes Mistress.”

Through the veils, the raspy voice spoke “Sometimes, to understand little one, we must find a new way to look at things.” And the woman rose carefully and moved slowly off, leaving the kajira to her thoughts as she finished her garden chores.

Some days later, again the little kajira knelt weeding the garden as the Mistress approached in her slow careful way and lowered to the bench, quietly gazing on. The little kajia knelt up, brushing wisps of hair from her face as she smiled at the woman. “Mistress, this girl is grateful for your words, she has thought about things in a new way and now she understands!”

The old woman nodded, not one to chatter much. She smiled as the golden haired girl moved to kneel before her, gazing down at the innocent devoted face. The soft veils fluttered in the light breeze as she listened to the girl relate yet another event that she wanted a clear understanding of. The kajira’s face so full of determination that there was deeper meaning if only she could find it.

With more agility that the old crone had shown in years, she bent to scoop another stone as she rose from the bench, tossing it to the pretty lil thing. The kajira caught it, holding it to her palm as she looked up with her nose wrinkled in confusion. “Mistress, this girl has looked at things from all angles she can think of and still she cannot see it any differently”

Chuckling to herself as she moved off on her slow steps, the Mistress turned and winked to the girl over her veils, “That’s because sometimes a stone..... is just a stone.”