Diana nodded slowly, painfully. “That part may not grow easier.”
“Yes, I know.”
The Amazon studied the woman standing waist deep in the water. Then she said, “Is there anything I can do?”
Elana looked blank for a moment, then her humor rose. She tugged on a wet strand of hair, suggesting, “Help me get the soap out?”
Diana smiled at that. “Certainly.” She crossed the room to strip off her dripping garments and deposit them on the bench.
Gulping air, Elana quickly averted her eyes as Di’nay returned to her. She realized that she had never seen Di’nay naked, neither in vision nor in person, and she was totally unprepared for the fluttering attack of her stomach. It was not an overwhelming response, but it felt inappropriate somehow. She was ashamed of it and fearful that Di’nay would discover it. She had not meant to arrange anything!
“Having second thoughts?” Diana slipped over the side and into the water with a graceful, fluid motion.
Guiltily Elana looked anywhere but at her and stammered, “I did not mean to — to stare.”
“You weren’t.” Diana suppressed her smile and for a moment dropped low enough to let the water cover her shoulders. Then standing again she said, “It’s your not looking that’s noticeable.”
There was no response.
“I could leave?” she suggested, but not quite seriously. That raised a smile and a shake of Elana’s head.
“I do not bite — ”
“It’s not you I worry about,” Elana admitted quietly. She pressed her hands to her face briefly, then pushed the wet strands back and straightening, added, “I’ve never seen — all of you before.”
“I’m just like any other woman, a little taller… skinnier perhaps.” Diana smiled kindly, but she found she was enjoying Elana’s trepidation. It was reassuring to see the humanness.
“No.” Elana shook her head decisively. “You’re much… prettier.”
Flattered and very disbelieving, Diana grinned outright. “Thank you. You’re pretty too.”
Elana laughed and it was a full, bright sound that delighted Diana. Very pleased and resisting the urge to rebuke herself for teasing the woman, Diana reached out and spun Elana around to face the wall. “Now down.” and she pushed Elana’s shoulders under the water.
Obediently, Elana tipped her head back with her arms floating out for balance as Di’nay guided her. With a tender firmness, Di’nay began to massage her scalp, moving the water through the thick masses. One hand cradled her neck for support as the other worked rhythmically. Elana’s ears echoed with the faint crackle of soap suds, and her body relaxed with the water’s warmth.
The sound brought a memory of Elana’s earlier days. The Mistress had found her crying in the gardens, hiding from the supervised baths. It must have been within the first ten-day or two of her arrival. She had been afraid of the older trainees and their impatience in baby-sitting the newest arrival. At the time Elana had not understood that their short-tempered amarin had also stemmed from their fear of her Sight, but the Mistress had not been daunted in the least. Elana had long, unruly hair even then, that had been the focal point of her distress. Before coming to the Keep her mother had always helped her wash and patiently comb out the snarls. It had hurt unbearably when the trainees hurriedly tugged through the tangles.
The Old Mistress had not been angered at all in finding the intruder in her quiet retreat. Instead she had taken the child by the hand and led her to the more private baths of the mistresses. The stern but kindly manner that later came to characterize most of her dealings with the young Ona had been uncovered that day as the old woman washed, combed, and finally braided the dark length. After that they had met regularly — often feeling like thieves, sneaking about in the moons’ light.
Even after an accident had forced Elana’s hair to be cut for a time, the two had continued the tradition. She had learned so much during those stolen hours, Elana recalled. How often had the old woman spoken of the extra cautions of the Sight or the ways to decipher the deceits of cornered men? The nuances of molding children into Masters, dreamers into Shadows — all the knowledge she could condense into those too short hours, all the compassion that was needed to bring the gifted child to womanhood — strong and proud of her uniqueness, not ashamed… all of herself that she could and did share in those nights.
Diana quietly broke into their silence. “You’re drifting a long way off.”
Eyes fluttered open, and Elana smiled at the face above her.
“Tell me if it feels clean enough?”
Reluctantly Elana moved away. Her hair seemed squeaky beneath her probing fingers, and she dunked her head back once to straighten her hair — as much as would ever be possible. “Thank you. It feels good.”
“May I ask where you were?” Diana reached for the soap. “I think it must have been a very special place.”
Elana smiled. “Perhaps your people with brown eyes are Sighted? I was remembering a time when the Mistress would help me with my hair.”
“You don’t mean the old woman I met?”
“Certainly, I do.” She smiled. The soap lathered on her body, releasing its full, musky scent. “But how did you guess?”
“How does anyone ever know what another means?” She stopped herself with an apologetic shrug as she remembered Elana was not just anyone. “I noticed she was concerned about your welfare — in a very personal way. You mean a great deal to her. I suppose I assumed you thought similarly of her.”
“I do.” Elana sank into the pool until her chin broke the surface. She swirled the water about her body, reluctant to touch her skin again. There was a growing yearning to know how differently Di’nay’s hands would feel. “She is more than my guardian or teacher. She is my guide — my mentor, perhaps?” Elana remembered the glow of eagerness in the Mistress that even weariness had not covered on the dawn of that last Council meeting. “I believe she would have sought this place beside you if she’d been younger.”
“Oh?” Diana looked at her with interest.
“This deed kindled a lost spark in her. The adventure, the opportunity of knowing you — every sense of purpose and every curious fiber within her responded to your arrival.”
“So she settled for sending you, her favorite?” Diana thought she understood. Dreams fulfilled vicariously could be such dangerous things. Aloud she only wondered, “And if she were younger, would she really have come?”
“No!” Elana spoke quickly, aggressively. “You are mine. She could not have changed that — even had she been Eldest Prepared, I would not have let her.”
Diana pondered the strange mixture of youth and strength that stood before her. Elana was beautiful. Her skin had browned to the color of dark, rich cocoa and shimmered in the reflecting light of the pool. The blueness of her eyes sparkled like sapphires set in mahogany.
A pale light drew Diana’s gaze into the water — the opal-white of her wrist’s stone. Perhaps I have been the naive one, Diana wondered and slowly reached for more soap. “So your Mistress was excited about my arrival? Did you share her enthusiasm?”
Elana relaxed, smiling as her thoughts went to those vision-haunted nights. She turned to pull herself up out of the water. “It was not the same for me.”
“What did you think then?” Diana was oddly undisturbed by the pleasure she was feeling as she watched Elana cross the room to fetch her comb.
“Me? I was shocked!” She laughed then as she sat on the pool’s edge to comb out her wet hair. “I had not expected you to be an offworlder.”
“Did you expect a woman?”
Elana took a moment to consider. It was true that since her visions had drifted into her dreams, she had known Di’nay to be a woman. Yet before then? Indirectly she responded, “I’ve been prepared to shadow for man, woman or child.”
The evasion was not unnoticed, but Diana said nothing. She stretched out along the submerged bench, leaning against the wall as she listened.<
br />
“I was taught to join a man in arms or be his companion in bed. I can tend a child with croup or calm a nightmare. I can counsel a woman or guide her through a desert safely. But you — ” Elana broke off, shaking her head.
“An Amazon is neither woman nor man by your world’s standards.”
“I first thought of you as a woman,” Elana protested. “But as an off-worlder…?”
“An Amazon,” Diana interjected firmly. At home the word was very specific and most of her Sisters rarely used the term; its only relevance was to the Empire, but it was a distinction that most of the galaxy recognized. An off-worlder named Amazon would be insulted, but for a Sister to be carelessly called an off-worlder — to be assumed to hold with the Imperial Terran values — that was an outrage.
“I believe I understand some of the difference,” Elana returned carefully, acutely attuned to the passionate amarin. “But it was my prejudice against the off-worlders that initially shocked me. It is the fact that you are an Amazon that attracts me.”
Diana deliberately ignored the choice of adjectives and repeated her original question. “Did you expect your assignment would be with a woman?”
“I did not expect a man,” Elana answered slowly, gradually realizing how true she spoke. She gave up with a shrug. “Is it so important?”
“No.” But wasn’t it? Wasn’t it instinctively part of her assessment? No, just curiosity, Diana insisted. But Elana was satisfied with the curt reply and busy weaving her hair into a single braid.
“You’re amazingly — relaxed, Di’nay.”
Diana grinned. “I’m on my best behavior.”
Intrigued, Elana’s fingers paused. “Do you need to be?”
“Perhaps.” She sat up quickly, wrapping her arms about her knees, and the water splashed against the stone. “It feels as if I’ve been overly… sensitive? I’m beginning to suspect… if we’re to be partners, a little basic trust is in order. Isn’t it?”
Elana felt the breath catch in her throat, and her glance dropped. “I am honored you see me deserving.”
Diana laughed, lifting herself and a goodly amount of water onto the edge beside Elana. “I don’t know if I’d say it quite that way.”
Elana smiled as she finished her braid. “Dare I ask what you do see in me?”
“Very honest,” Diana responded, suddenly serious again. “Young. Very capable, but still — young.”
Elana shook her head in a faint gesture of denial. What Di’nay’s amarin so clearly implied was that something about youth was not to be trusted. But what was equally clear was Di’nay’s own confusion about that feeling, and Elana didn’t know how to answer such ambivalence.
Diana shifted restlessly, growing uncomfortable in their silence. Changing the subject, she bent her head towards a paper-bound parcel that lay near her clean clothes. “I stopped at the mercantile above. I got you some things….”
“Me?” Elana almost gasped, she was so surprised.
“Why don’t you take a look? You did say it might be helpful — if you need to look less like a man. I hope you like….”
“A skirt!” Elana pulled the dark cloth from the top of the bundle. She held it up against her waist and spread the fabric wide. “So much of it!”
“There’s kirtle and — and a blue tunic there for you too. I grabbed a rather flimsy pair of shoes to match. I thought they’d travel light. They’re upstairs.” She watched as Elana drew the tunic out.
Pleased, Elana’s mouth formed a silent ‘oh’. She slipped on the thickly woven tunic. It hung below her hips with a subtle tuck at her waist to set off the curves of breast and thigh. The string-like weave was done in blues and grays. An undyed yoke framed her collarbones and dove modestly between her breasts. She tied the sash and smoothed the cloth down over her hips in pleasure.
“The blue isn’t quite as pale as your eyes,” Diana murmured softly, wondering at the disappearance of the muscular lines beneath the bulky fabric. The youthful girlishness seemed to evaporate as the curves grew fuller. Her throat tightened; she had not expected the color to go so beautifully with Elana’s richer skin tones. At this moment, she couldn’t imagine a lovelier sight.
“It’s so pretty,” Elana whispered, “thank you.”
“It fits well enough?” Diana said anxiously. “I was unsure of your size.”
“Yes, it fits,” Elana assured her, smiling happily. “And yes — I like it. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything so wonderful before.”
Diana forced a breath to calm her nervous jitters. It was an alarming bit of insecurity she had about giving women presents; it always disturbed her.
“Here.” Elana startled her. She had come nearer and stood offering a towel. “It really is beautiful, Di’nay. Thank you.”
“It was the least I could do after marching you through all that mud.”
“Odd,” the younger woman teased, “I thought I’d been the guide.”
A laugh escaped her and Diana felt at ease again.
“Was there news in the commons?” Elana asked, exchanging the tunic for kirtle.
“Very little,” Diana admitted. “May I borrow your comb?”
“Certainly.”
“Apparently the topic for the evening was hoofmoss and shattered shells. There was no mention of anything out of the ordinary, but my education on Aggar’s horse trading and, in particular, sound hooves, was expanded.”
“Judging by the way you ride, Di’nay, I would not have suspected you needed the tutorage.”
“Well, I have a fondness for horses. And I pity the poor creature that frays its hooves for a careless rider. Z’ki Sak, Diana!” she said in her own tongue. “How I wish your people had horseshoes!”
Elana watched her quizzically. Her quick ears had caught Di’nay’s true name in the strange speech. “Put shoes on horses?”
“No, not shoe shoes,” Diana amended quickly as she began to dress. “At home we have metal — well, half-moons. They’re fitted to the shape of each hoof and tapped in with metal spikes. It doesn’t hurt the animal, but it protects the hoof from splintering and the tender spot from so many jagged stones and such.”
“What does it mean when you say ‘zah kihs ahk, Diana’?”
Diana concentrated on deciphering the syllables. Then grinning, she said, “Z’ki… Sak… Diana.”
“Z’ki Sak, Diana,” Elana repeated, fluently this time, and Di’nay glanced at her in surprise at the mastered accent. “And it means?”
“Oh.” Diana brought herself back and, settling on the bench, reached for her boots. “It’s an idiom — like by the Mother’s Hand or something.”
“You are named for the Mother?” Elana asked in astonishment.
“No — well, after one of them… almost.” Diana sighed, realizing she was being rather confusing. “Diana was an ancient Terran goddess. The Terran legends didn’t have a single Mother, they had many — ”
“As different tribes call her different names?”
“More than that. Some tribes had a family of spirits, gods and goddesses and each represented different powers. Some of them more just than others.”
With sudden insight, Elana dropped to the seat beside her and asked, “Did they embody both the Fates’ and the Mother’s roles?”
“Yes.” The Amazon smiled wryly at the obvious simplification. “Diana was one of those goddesses. N’Athena, the name of my mother’s house, also recalls such a goddess.”
“Do all your — ” Elana paused, searching for the right word, and Di’nay looked at her expectantly. In frustration Elana turned her gaze directly on Di’nay. In an instant their gazes blended and Elana murmured, “Do all the Houses of your Sisters recall such Terran powers?”
Suspended in the magic of that utter blueness Diana remembered a fragment of the Mother’s litany, and softly she spoke:
N’Awehai bin n’Shea
corae’ mae…
n’Cee, n’Puor, n’Minmee.
Z’Sor f
elan m’Sheaz.
Kusak n’Sappho ann
vu neh’ sueht.
Kum’ m’be Mauen z’Quinn,
Kamak dey Sorormin.
Silently Elana absorbed the words, placing them into something nearer her own understanding:
From Awehai to the Shea
hold them dear,
their ways, their strength, their very birth,
for Woman began as earth.
By clever hand of Sappho
were few lost.
Bring all whose heart peace has sought
to One, for Sisterhood is wrought.
…and Elana grasped a little of Di’nay’s past in those cherished verses. Finally, and gently, she released the Amazon to her solitude.
“We are dey Soromin… the Sisterhood,” Diana mumbled, feeling adrift without that gentle bond — and resenting it. “We are made of seven Sisters… seven Houses. Six houses are memorials to the ancient goddess-women… Awehai, Athena, Huitaca, Minona, Hina, and Shea — the seventh House names a single woman of lost times, Sappho. She was a poet, a scholar, a lawmaker; she was wise… shrewd. Our Founding Mothers desperately needed her every skill in their bartering and building of our world.”
“You’re very proud of your people,” Elana observed quietly.
“And you are not?”
“Not in the same way, I think.” Elana studied her hands folded in her lap. Then quickly she said, “Have you eaten?”
Diana shook her head, eyeing the woman, curious at the sudden change in tone. “I thought I’d raid the kitchens before bed. The noise in the commons was growing a bit loud for my tastes.”
Elana smiled faintly, reaching for their soiled clothes. “I did arrange for a tray of meat and cheese to be sent up. If you’d like, it should be waiting for us.”
Diana snatched Elana’s hand from the muddied discards. “You are not my servant. It’s not your place to tend my clothes or wait on my meals!”
“I act by choice, Di’nay,” Elana returned evenly, though she was very aware of the fingers that now clasped her lifestone.
Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar) Page 13
