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Authors: Pamela Sargent

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #General

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BOOK: The Shore of Women
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“Do not speak his name. He was an unholy fool, and it’s good that he’s no longer able to bring a curse upon us. I am older now and have made a wiser choice. Jerlan will be a better Headman and even those closest to that other man will see that as time passes.”

We did not speak again until we stopped to water the horses and eat a meal. The Prayergiver asked for a story to carry back to his band, and I told him Wanderer’s tale of the man who had dwelled in a shrine and taken on the Lady’s form. I hoped this would lead him to talk more of his first vision, but he did not speak of that.

As we talked, Birana showed Tulan how to mount, how to sit on a horse, and led Flame in a circle around us while the boy sat on her back. When we set off again, Birana allowed Tulan to ride Flame with her, and without his shorter steps slowing us we were able to increase our pace. The lake wrinkled as the sun gleamed in its folds, and the trees sang their songs to us as their limbs sought to embrace the sky.

We made our camp by the lake. By morning, a mist hung over the water, and as we went back to the trail, rain began to fall.

“We have needed more rain,” the Prayergiver said, “but even more rain will not restore our soil.” He went on to tell me of how growing plants tired the soil even when some was left fallow for a season, and of how his band might have to move its camp in seasons to come.

“It would be hard to move such a camp,” I said.

“Yet it has been moved before. Once it lay farther from the shore, and before that to the north of where it is now.”

The old man led us off the trail later that day. “Another camp lies ahead,” he told me in a low voice. “Although they have truce with us, it is better if we don’t stop with them, for they might wonder about our purpose.”

We made camp that night far above the lake, and below to the west, I saw the distant smoke of a camp’s fires. The rain was only a drizzle by now, moist droplets that seemed to hang in the air. Even from this place, the northern shore of the lake was hidden, and I could not see where to the east it ended.

The rain stopped during the night but did not cool the land. By morning the sun gave off much heat, and the air hung still and heavy. Tulan had taken off his shirt, and the Prayergiver and I wore only our pants to protect our legs, but Birana dared not pull off her deerskin coat. By the time we came to the trail again, I could see her discomfort.

When evening came, the heat still clung to the land. As we made camp, Birana came to me and whispered, “I must bathe.”

“We shall see,” I replied, then took the Prayergiver aside while Tulan rubbed down the horses. “My companion wishes to bathe,” I said. “In this form, Her body is as ours, but She does not wish that men set eyes upon Her lest the sight rob them of their souls.”

He assured me that another camp’s boats would not pass this way on the water and that travelers were unlikely to move along the trail in the evening, but promised to keep watch with Tulan by the trail.

“I’ll go with my companion to the lake,” I said, “and bathe there when She is done.”

His brows lifted above his wise eyes. “Best that you also do not look too long upon Her, Arvil, however favored you are. Her spell lies heavily upon you.”

Birana and I made our way down to the lake and found a sheltered spot where we could not be seen from above. I told her what I had said to the Prayergiver, and she covered her mouth as she laughed.

“Lest the sight of me rob them of their souls!” She shook her head, and I did not say that she had stolen mine. She turned her back to me as she took off her garments; this time, she did not ask me to look away, and I did not turn aside. Did this mean she had grown easier with me? Perhaps it meant only that she knew I would not dare to seek blessings now that I was aware of what they might lead to for her.

She crept down to the water and my heart raced as I beheld her. Her face, neck, and hands had grown browner, but her skin was pale as moonlight, and I longed to put my hands upon her. Soft cries escaped her as the coldness of the lake raised tiny bumps on her skin. She put out her arms and moved upon the water. Her arms curved as they carried her forward and her buttocks rose above the surface as she kicked.

Suddenly she disappeared below the lake. Her feet poked above the water, and then she was gone. I jumped down to the edge of the bank, helpless, fearing for her, and then her head bobbed up. I let out my breath.

“You go too far!” I cried.

She laughed and sank below the water again, then reappeared closer to the shore. “You were to bathe,” I said, “not to make me fear for your safety.”

“I’m only swimming. Don’t you know how to swim?”

I shook my head.

“I’ll show you how.” She moved her arms and came closer. I looked around. Tulan and the Prayergiver would call out if anyone approached. I shed my garments quickly and entered the lake.

Birana did not look at me until water was up to my waist, and then she moved her arms and showed me how to move mine. I struggled and splashed about, unable to bring my arms and legs to work together, for the water kept pulling me below. Birana swam out, but I followed her only to a place where I could stand with my head above the lake.

“Didn’t your band ever swim?” she asked when she had drifted nearer.

“We had no need, but if I am to live by a lake, I see I may have to learn.”

Her feet rose up as she floated. The nipples of her breasts were hard. I lifted my own feet and again gulped water as my arms flailed. She laughed as she watched me. I looked foolish before her and yet felt joy at hearing her laugh, at feeling the cool caresses of the lake’s currents. I had made her laugh and echoed her laughter.

As we left the water, I reached for her, only meaning to take her hand, although I wanted to press her body to mine. Her brown hair hung in wet curls around her face and shoulders. Her belly was taut between the rounded curves of her hips and her breasts glistened with droplets. As my hand touched hers, she started, pulled away, and hunched over, covering her breasts with one hand and the hairy place between her legs with the other.

We did not look at each other as we dressed. When I had finished putting on my garments, she was sitting on a rock by the water, brushing grass and pine needles from her feet. The foot-coverings she used inside her boots were worn. I sat on the ground beside her as I glanced at her callused, scabbed feet.

“I should make new foot-coverings for you,” I said, “and softer boots to wear over them.”

“Tulan asked me about my boots,” she said. “He said others in his band had noticed them. I told him that they were taken from a scavenger.” Her voice was high, and she kept her eyes from me.

I said, “I meant only to touch your hand, Birana.”

“I saw what was in your eyes.”

“You were easy with me. No barrier stood between us. I wanted only to touch you as I would a friend.” Then more words I had not meant to say flowed from me. “No, that isn’t so. I wanted to touch your hand, and then other parts of you, and I wanted to feel your hands on me.”

She stood up quickly. “You mustn’t say this.”

I got to my feet and pulled her toward me. Memories of aspects came to me, recollections of how the spirit-women had put their mouths on mine. I held her against me as my hand lifted her face to mine, then pressed my lips to hers.

Her mouth was hard. Then her lips softened a little under mine, parting. My mouth opened. She quickly turned her head from me and twisted in my arms until I released her. She sat down and covered her face.

“Birana…”

“I was only thinking—you are like someone I knew.” She huddled on the rock, her body stooped. “I forgot myself. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t uncover myself in front of you. I should have asked you to turn away.”

“Don’t say such words to me. You grant little else. At least let my eyes know you.”

She pulled on her boots. We climbed up toward our camp. When we were close to it, and she could not protest without drawing the Prayergiver’s attention, I leaned toward her and took her arm for a moment. “I shall treasure that time,” I whispered, “when I brought laughter to you and our souls communed for a time in that laughter.”

She turned her head from me, but not before I had seen her eyes grow gentle and knew that I had moved her.

The Prayergiver and Tulan bathed at dawn before we left our camp. Later that day, we again left the trail and skirted a cove where, the Prayergiver said, men often went in boats to fish.

The next day, we circled around another camp of men. By this time, Tulan had grown more used to the horses and was even able to ride Wild Spirit for a little while, something I still feared to do. “You would make a good horseman,” I said to him.

He smiled with pride. “The band will have to take me,” he said. “I can do anything they can do, and I can ride as well.”

“Hold your tongue, young one,” the Prayergiver muttered. “It is that band who will decide matters, not your pride.”

Tulan tossed his head as Birana rode up to his side. He seemed happy to be with her. Although he still thought of her as an older boy, she was unlike others he had known; she did not order him around and listened patiently to his tales of his life. I almost wished myself in the boy’s place, for Tulan was able to be her friend without aching for her.

As we moved closer to the lake again, I saw what seemed to be the northern shore, then understood that the land was an island. The lake still stretched on, without end. The Prayergiver had grown more solemn, and the prayers he murmured from time to time as we walked became more frequent. I guessed that we were finally coming closer to our destination.

That evening, after we had made our camp and collected wood for the fire, the old man motioned to us.

“I must say this now,” he said. “We draw closer to the camp where I saw my vision, and we must be more careful. I believe their truce with me will keep them from harming us, and yet I am returning when I promised I would not. It may be that they won’t accept us in their camp.”

The Prayergiver made a gesture at Tulan, then told him to fetch water from the lake. When the boy was gone, the old man continued, “If they learn what She is, they will accept Her. They may turn you away, Arvil, even if you are a holy messenger. Tulan and I can go back to our old camp, but your presence among us might create hard feeling in those who were close to the former Headman. I would have Jerlan able to take up his duties without that problem.”

“I understand,” I said.

“You might find a place among another lake band, but you’ll have to pass through a truthsaying with them. You would reveal the visions you have had.”

“Then I’ll go east.” The words pained me. I did not care where I went without Birana.

The Prayergiver shook his head and made a sign.

“Do you know what lies to the east?” I asked.

“There are two camps on the easternmost shore, and a gorge through which a river feeds the lake. It is said that evil ones once preyed upon the lake bands in ancient times, and that they lived in the east. I don’t know what lies there now and don’t want to know. Even the Lady turns Her eyes from that land.” He made another sign.

“I will want Arvil with Me,” Birana said. Despite my worries, her words eased me. She had said nothing about what had passed between us by the lake, and I had feared she might want me away from her side.

The Prayergiver was silent for a moment. “May the Lady forgive me for saying this, but I cannot hide my thoughts from Her and will speak them aloud to You, Holy One. You showed me a holy vision. The Headman who came after me challenged the truth of this vision, and now he is dead, and perhaps that shows the truth of it. But it comes to me that an evil one can also have power over men and seek to deceive them. Your presence in our camp caused us to lose our Headman, and foolish as he was, that’s not a good sign. Such things, when they happened in the past, were evil omens. I believe You holy, but let me tell You now that the band You go to will see the truth of You.”

“They will not harm Her,” I said, wanting to believe it.

When the boy returned, the Prayergiver beckoned to him. “Tulan, your guardian asked me to say this to you when we were close to that camp. If they allow you to enter, you will not leave.”

“I know that.”

“But you have not thought much about what I will say now. It is said that those men, because a vision has come to them, are not required to travel to shrines to be called. It is why they come among the lake bands to seek boys. You’re too young to know much of the special blessings the Lady sends to men and older boys in shrines and in Her enclave. Such blessings are the greatest joys and pleasures a man can know, and I don’t know what blessings this other band can give you in place of them.”

Tulan lifted his head. “Living near a holy place will be enough for me.”

“You think that now, lad, but when you are older, your body will burn for such blessings.”

“There will be men,” Tulan said, “and other boys.”

“Pleasant as those joys are, they are less than the Lady can give, for She touches the soul as well as the body.” The Prayergiver sighed. “Jerlan asked me to say this so that you would know what it is you’re choosing. If you wish, we can say nothing to that band about your desire to join them, and you can return to our camp. There will be no disgrace in that for you.”

“No,” the boy answered. “I want to go.”

The old man rubbed his chin. “I wonder if it is holiness you want or simply the chance to stay with those beasts.”

“I want to stay with Spellweaver and Arvil, too.”

I smiled at the boy’s words. Perhaps, knowing that I could never again go to an enclave and be given a boy, and that young Hasin would have to live his life without me, I was growing to care for Tulan. Yet the day might come when he would feel his soul stir, and I wondered how he would look at Birana then. I might have to protect her from him. Any affection for Tulan would end.

“Ah.” The Prayergiver shrugged. “The young often seem to want what is new and different until they learn some wisdom.”

“You also seek some newness,” I said. “Here you are with us, not quite sure of what lies ahead.”

BOOK: The Shore of Women
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