Free The Kanshou (Earthkeep) by Sally Miller Gearhart

memorized, analyzed, conjugated, recited, formulated, discussed, negotiated, strategized, and argued.  And, like all Amah cadets, they celebrated at every opportunity.
    The rational, practical Zude despaired over her lover's active fantasy life, even once going so far as to insist to Jezebel that unicorns were not real.  Jez succeeded in convincing her that unicorns might, with the proper open-heartedness, become real, and to that end she presented Zude with a custom-cast pair of silver earrings, each in the form of a rampant unicorn, mane-flared and horn held high.  They always had pride of place among the tasteful piercings that decorated Zude's ears.
    * * * * * * * *
    One idyllic evening by the South China Sea, Zude stood in the academy's weaponsyardafter target-and-evasion drills.  Sweating from her exertion, she pushed a cleaning rod through her dartsleeveand watched the falling sun drench the top of the hardwood fencing.  All along the fencetop were mounted the warrior weapons of the thousand-armed Durga, Invincible Hindu Warrior Goddess -- sword, ax, kukri, arrow, javelin, katar, spear, trident, noose, discus, mesh, and pike.  Just to her left and topping the archway that led to the Contemplation Garden beyond, blazed the Sumerian Eye Goddess, flanked by statues of man-eating Valkyries whose raven feathers merged into the bodies of mares.  The idiography across the arch came from the early women of Hong Kong, themselves saviors of their nation's culture.  In Zude's rough translation it said, "Humanity can do better, and women will lead the way."
    Zude squinted one eye and peered down her dartsleevewith the other.  "And what a polyglot we are," she mused aloud, "study and philosophize in English, shop and do laundry in Mandarin, make love and quarrel in Spanish."  She wiped her brow, automatically checking her earlobes for her unicorns. 
    Jezebel was leaning against the upper gatepost, one of her far-away looks immobilizing her face.  If she hadn't just observed her lover laying in rank after rank of dead-center blowdarts, each one with an exclamation of triumph, Zude would have sworn that Jez was crying.  
    "Hail, Intrepid Markswoman!" she called.
    Jez turned.  She was crying.  Zude gathered her sweat tunic, her darts, their quiver, her cleaning rods, and the sleeve.  She joined her lover, sitting on the bench just below her.  She reached up and took Jez's hand.  They were silent for half a minute.
    "Good match this morning," Zude said casually.  "With Ciab."
    Jez looked askance at her lover.  "How did you know?"
    "How . . . ?  I didn't," Zude confessed.  "I was just commenting."
    "It was awful."  Tears welled up again in Jez's eyes.  "Zudie, I came close to hurting her.  Really hurting her, I mean."  She wiped her face with her sleeve.
    Zude rested against the bench's back.  "But you didn't -- "
    "I don't mean physically," Jez insisted.  "I mean I could have stripped her mind, levelled her intention!"  She struck the fence pillar.  "I wasn't in control, I almost . . . ."  She pushed off from the post and paced.  "What if that had been some man I was trying to restrain?  I managed not to hurt Ciab, but how do I know I wouldn't use my .  .  . my weapons if I were restraining a man ?  If I were an Amah?" 
    As always, Zude avoided any direct discussion of Jezebel's psychic powers.  "Bella-Belle," she said softly, "you wouln't hurt an offender, not beyond Least Necessary-- "
    "You don't know that!"
    "Look, you didn't hurt Ciab.  All of us-- "
    "She's a woman!"
    Zude blinked.  "Even if she'd been a man-- "
    "If she'd been a man I might have wiped him out for sure!  I could have done him irreparable harm!  Oh Zudie," she slumped onto the bench, "that's exactly the trouble, don't you see?  Ciab's a woman, a temporary harmer .  That's why I didn't hurt her.  Any violence in a woman is conditioned violence, and the deepest part of me knew that.  A woman can be helped because she's