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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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“Don’t you have your doubts about the way we live?”

“No,” I said forcefully. “Not really. Not any more than anyone else.”

“You can’t lie to me, Laissa. I know that you doubt. Your responses to many questions show that.”

I wondered how that could be. I had answered carefully, going out of my way to seem conventional.

“Listen,” Bren continued, “you’re not alone. There are others who doubt. They ask why we cannot live outside our cities, why men cannot live as we do, why some women rebel, why we have grown complacent and unadventurous. Some of those who doubt chronicle their feelings or embody them in stories, and others read them and are enlightened. They come to see our world as an outsider might see it and thus gain a perspective on our lives. They come to see what we have kept of the past and what we have rejected. They question and, by questioning, may come up with a way to make things better. Sometimes, one has to doubt, go through a painful questioning of everything one holds dear, in order to come to acceptance of our way. You see, we can make use of doubt—expose it to the light, so to speak—so that it doesn’t fester below the surface and poison us. Chroniclers—good chroniclers—are usually doubters. They show others who have questions that they are not alone, and aid them in reaching an acceptance of our way in the end.”

The conversation was making me uneasy. If a chronicler’s doubts were supposed to lead to acceptance, then what would happen to a chronicler who could not overcome her doubts? I pushed that question aside.

Bren was making me doubt. It was another test; it had to be. I had read some of the tales of chroniclers; their stories were little more than recollections of individual lives, mingled with dubious ideas, or recountings of experiences they had never had or had made up altogether. There could be nothing in my tests to show that I was such a person; Bren was only trying to see if I knew my own mind.

“I know your mother, Dorlei, has had her own questions,” Bren was saying. “Perhaps that has influenced you. Or maybe it’s a quality you carry in your genes. Diversity is important for survival—we must have doubters, as well as followers and leaders. Doubt can show us how we might make things better.”

“Mother doesn’t doubt, not really.” I felt that I had to say it. “She does what she must. And I don’t want to be a chronicler.”

“I cannot force you to be one. Force would be useless for such work in any case. I simply advise. We give our tests so that we can save young women from painfully attempting work for which they aren’t suited. You may not believe this now, but in time you are likely to find yourself growing more interested in our history, and wanting to record your thoughts, and then you’ll regret the time you lost. Study physics, if you must, but you may find that it’s not where your true talents lie.” She waved a hand, dismissing me.

My life was beginning, and I was suddenly afraid of what it might hold.

ARVIL

The home of the strangers was six days’ journey on horseback to the south. We took what remained of our provisions and left our camp with them. The strangers shared some of their food with us as we traveled and sheltered us in their tents during the night; we shared our food with them in return.

The Stalker and Cor cuffed me often. I accepted the blows, knowing that Tal had given me to the Stalker rather than to Eagle Eyes or Arrow because the Stalker was stronger. Tal had done only what he thought was best, but I felt anger toward him. He spoke of keeping to the Lady’s path, yet he had abandoned me.

The leader of our new band was called by the name Truthspeaker. On the first night we camped together, he went into a trance and spoke in the holy tongue. “Our sin is to be washed from us,” he chanted. “The day approaches when we will live with the Lady and all Her aspects, and men will fight other men no more.” That was all I could understand, for Truthspeaker then fell to the ground and uttered a stream of gibberish while two of his men held his arms and legs. I made a sign and prayed silently, but my mind was not only on guarding myself from unholiness. My thighs burned from riding on a horse behind a stranger all day, and I ached as I thought of the journey still ahead.

The stranger with whom I had ridden came to my side while Truthspeaker was still babbling. “It is said that Truthspeaker was felled by a powerful blow to the head by an enemy long ago,” the stranger murmured to me. “He lay as one dead and then arose, and it was as if he had come back from the realm of the dead with visions of the truth.”

This man, named Bint, took a liking to me. I was shy of him at first. Geab and the Stalker had sometimes taken their pleasure roughly with those in my band who were younger, but Bint did not force himself on me. He treated me as if he were my guardian and thus forbidden from using me in that way.

By the third day of our journey, I was at ease riding with Bint and had overcome my fear of his beast. He pointed out landmarks as we rode and even prayed with me before we slept. The Stalker was content to leave me with Bint much of the time, although he would strike me once in a while just to remind me that he was still my guardian.

Bint spoke our speech but called on me for words he did not know. He told me much about life in his camp. “See this?” he said once, pulling his coat open. “Sheepskin. We keep sheep. We keep them with us and always have food and coats.”

“Did you always live with this band?” I asked.

“Ever since I was a boy. I, too, am from the north, but I cannot remember much of that life. This band was smaller then, but two bands have joined since—yours is the third. You will like it in our camp. You’ll learn how to grow some plants and grain, which is hard work, but when the ones below us are shivering through winter, you’ll be in a warm hut with plenty of food. But you will have to do as you’re told.”

“Will Geab tell us what to do?”

“The council will, and he will follow them. Work is given to you. If you disobey, there are punishments according to what you have done wrong. But you won’t be punished without a hearing—that means you get to tell your side of the story and can call witnesses. Of course, if you’ve done an evil deed, you might die for it, but you will have a hearing first. We practice justice.”

It all sounded strange and wondrous. It came to me that, with a band as large as theirs, things were not so simple.

“Don’t other bands try to take what you have?” I asked.

Bint laughed. “Oh, they can try. They don’t if they are wise. We train to defend ourselves. Some are archers, others fight with spears, and some fight on horseback.”

“We can each fight with spears, and knives, and arrows, as well as with slings.” I spoke with pride. “We do not fight in only one way.”

“Our way is better,” Bint said. “We train each in what he is best at, and, when we fight, we work together, but with a plan. It is not just every man fighting for himself or his young charge. Maybe, if the other bands got together, they could give us a battle, but they never do. They fight each other while we grow stronger.”

I thought of Tal often during the first days of our journey, squeezing my eyes shut at night before sleeping so that I would not cry. Soon, I no longer thought of him, and even came to think that he had been wrong not to promise to join us when he left the enclave. Bint was a good man. He prayed every night and told me he had been called to an enclave three times. I began to believe that Tal would come to see that he had made a mistake and would seek us out after all.

We left wooded hills by the fourth day of our travels and then rode across a snowy plain. On the last day, we prayed at a shrine to the Witch before going on.

Here, in this shrine, I was again uneasy. Hecate glowered at us as my band knelt before Her, and then I saw that Truthspeaker’s men did not kneel but gazed directly at Her image as they prayed. We lay on the Lady’s couches, wearing Her circlets, but She favored no one, and no one was called.

The shrine was on the plain. Above it, to the south, was a high plateau. Bint gestured with one arm. “Up there,” he said. “Our settlement, Arvil. Our town.” I could dimly make out a barrier near the plateau’s edge.

We rode to a path leading up to the camp. This passage wound among the rocks along the steep incline, as if a large hand had carved it out with a giant stone. We passed snow-covered boulders as the horses climbed with sure feet. I did not dare to look to my side or toward the land so far below. We came to a cave guarded by two men; one of them mounted his horse and rode ahead of us. We passed another cave where others guarded the way, and they shouted a welcome in the holy speech.

As we climbed higher, I saw a long, low barrier made of wood and stones piled upon dirt. This was the wall my new band had built. Then huts seemed to rise from the ground above us, and I heard the sound of many voices. The band was singing, and their song was filled with a joy I had rarely heard.

Boys ran toward us. They climbed over the wall and held out arms to the smaller ones. They were smiling, and their faces were round and full. As we dismounted, one boy ran to Bint, and he hugged the child with his big arms. At that moment, I longed for Tal.

I could see this band’s wealth. Meat, enough for days, turned on spits in the center of the settlement. Logs of wood, enough for many fires, sat outside each of the huts. Bint chattered in that band’s tongue to the boy who clung to his hands, while Geab danced lightly on his feet and then shouted, “The Lady is good.”

I said, “We are blessed.”

“And your old guardian,” Geab answered, “is a fool.”

I stared at my new home. These men had built on high ground that could be defended. Each hut seemed large enough for five men or more, and an enclosure inside the wall held a herd of sheep. There would be much work for me in the settlement, for I saw that such a camp needed the labor of many. But the smiles of the young boys told me I would also find contentment.

I had been taught to fear strangers; I had thought my own band knew as much as men could know. Now I felt how small and weak we were.

The boy with Bint handed him a skin. Bint drank from it and handed it to me. “Mare’s milk, Arvil.” I tasted the unfamiliar drink and made a face. The boy laughed. I had grown more used to the horses during our travels, had taken to riding more easily than I had expected; I supposed I would get used to the milk.

“Look there!” Eagle Eyes cried out. He was gazing toward the horizon, where I could barely make out the shimmering spires and the vast wall of a distant enclave. Five tiny globes suddenly rose from the wall, hovered above it, and then flew in our direction. We gaped at them, marveling at the enclave’s magic.

The globes grew larger as they approached until I could see that each was even larger than a hut. They glittered in the sunlight. They swept toward the plateau and circled us while several men sang loudly, threatening to drown out the hum of the silver balls.

“The Lady favors us,” Bint shouted. “She is welcoming you to our home.” The boys near the barrier cheered.

I could not speak. “Does this always happen when a band joins you?” Geab asked.

Bint shook his head. “It has never happened before. This must have a special meaning. What a glorious day!” We stood there and smiled at the globes as their glassy eyes winked at us.

Then the Lady rendered Her judgment.

Rays brighter than the sun shot out from the globes. I heard a boy scream and saw three huts catch fire. A man near me fell. His head was gone, and his blood spurted over the snow.

Truthspeaker held out his arms. His face was twisted, and he seemed to be entranced. “Lady!” he called out in the holy speech. “I have stood before You! I turn from You now! I would embrace evil rather than join You in Your realm!” His words were horrible to hear, and, as he spoke, two boys fell at his feet.

Cor was struck as he ran toward me. One man lifted his spear and launched it at one globe before he fell under another ray. Beams struck along the wall as flames leaped from the roofs of the huts.

I was stiff with terror, unable to move. The boy near me dropped his skin of milk and screamed as a ray caught him. Bint knocked me to the ground. I rolled down a slope and was caught under a boulder, then threw my hands over my head. I could still hear the screams of both horses and men.

Tal was right, I thought, then tried to silence my mind, afraid that the Lady would hear my thoughts and find me. Feet ran past me as men fled down the path. Peering through my fingers, I saw the runners fall under the rays of a globe. I heard other voices full of rage, some cursing in the holy speech. Even now, while the Lady was showing Her power, some were refusing to plead for mercy; they would only condemn themselves in the next world.

Truthspeaker had doomed my band as well as his own. The cries of rage and pain became a single cry, the cry of a maddened beast. Rays flashed as the globes hummed. Their hum reminded me of a swarm of bees, those creatures so loved of the Lady, those creatures that sometimes gave us their honey yet stung those who did not approach their hives with care. I pressed my face to the ground, praying for a quick death, as I listened to the agony of others.

I lay there for a long time until I could hear no more screams, only the hum of the globes and the crackling of the fire. The humming grew faint and then died away.

Slowly, I got to my feet. The globes were gone. Bodies were strewn about on the reddened snow. I staggered toward Bint. He was on his back, his chest burned open, his face stiff with terror. Geab lay next to him. Truthspeaker’s face was frozen in a snarl.

The huts continued to burn. Each blackened structure caved in with a creak until there were only charred mounds.

I felt that I must do something for the wounded and stumbled from body to body until I understood that all were dead and that I was alone on cursed ground. The settlement’s sheep milled about and bleated in the distance, having escaped through a breach in their enclosure. Two wild-eyed horses near me whinnied and then galloped away.

I looked down toward the plain. A few men were riding southeast, and I guessed that they had escaped from the caves we had passed earlier. I could not have caught up with them, and perhaps they would not have accepted me, thinking that my band had somehow brought this punishment upon them. Perhaps we had. I could not know the Lady’s mind.

I moved as if under a spell. I took charred meat from one of the spits and packed it in my pouch. Near one hut lay a pack. I put more meat inside it and tied it to my back, then picked up my bow and spear.

I prayed for the dead, hoping that the Lady, having punished them in this world, might show them mercy in the next, but the words seemed useless. I wondered if the few who had escaped, instead of repenting, would only harden their hearts against Her.

Eagle Eyes had taught me the lore of mushrooms and how to forage for wild plants. Arrow had shown me how to shape my weapons and which stones were best for them. Hawk had gazed at the stars with me. Stel would never grow large enough to challenge me when I chided him. I had hunted with the men of my band, and they had shown me how to make fires with my flints and how to make clothes out of hides. Now they were gone, and I had no band. After praying, I took Geab’s metal knife, for there was no one else to claim it, and thrust it into my belt with my own.

I could not remain on unholy ground. I left the plateau, crept down along the path, and wandered aimlessly until dusk, when the bitter wind of evening bit into my face and brought me back to myself. I could not remain out there alone. If I could make my way north, I might find Tal when he returned from the enclave there, but I would have to avoid the scavengers near the wall. Then it came to me that Tal might leave the wall before I could reach him, and that I might never find him.

I was near Hecate’s shrine. Tal had told me always to stop and pay my respects, and no man could harm me there. But the Lady had judged my new companions and had destroyed their camp; She might strike me down as I prayed.

At that thought my numbness vanished, and I knew terror. I clung to a tree and moaned, trying to hold back my tears. In that state, I somehow cleared my mind. If the Lady knew I was alive, She could take me at any time. I could not hide from Her, so She had to know where I was, and that meant She had decided to spare me. If I did not stop at Her shrine and thank Her for my life, She might be angered.

I went into the shrine.

I knelt before the Witch and prayed until my knees were sore and my forehead hurt from striking the floor before the altar. The image glared at me but did not speak, and I began to hope.

I got up, went to a couch, and put on the Lady’s crown, knowing what I had to say.

I prayed silently, below a whisper, shaping the words of the holy tongue as I had been taught to do by Tal. “Lady, please speak to me. Our Headman led us to the plateau where You struck down the sinners who sought to challenge Your way. I was given to another man by my guardian Tal, and had to follow that man, for I am only a boy. But I am still Your servant and did not sin against You. Guide me—tell me what to do.”

BOOK: The Shore of Women
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