The heaviness of the food inside me soon brought me sleep. A dream came to me, one in which aspects of the Lady gathered along the shore of the lake and held out their arms to me. Birana was among them, beckoning to me, and the part of my soul apart from the dream saw this as a sign that I would find a true refuge. Their hands gestured to me, and then another hand clutched at me. I was suddenly awake.
I was dragged from under the shelter. Our fire was low, revealing only the shadows of several men. “Seize them,” Irlan’s voice said, “and bear them to the place of testing.”
Two men held my arms against my sides. Two others gripped Birana; she did not struggle against them. We were led swiftly through the empty clearing and along the path by the gardens until we were outside the wall. Guards ran along the top of the wall but made no move to help us when they saw Irlan. One man gestured at a guard, and soon three torches had been set in the ground around us.
“No blood will be shed inside our camp,” the Headman said, “but we will settle this while the others sleep. You won’t have a truthsaying and so I cannot know if you have deceived our Prayergiver. Even one so holy can be led astray. You must therefore contend with me. If there is true holiness inside you, let it shield you now.”
“You had better believe your Prayergiver,” I said. “You accepted his word about the holy vision he saw before. Why do you doubt him now?”
“He traveled there with all the Prayergivers, and all saw the vision. Here, there is no other witness to the vision he claims you showed him. He may see holiness in you, but I see only two who have come here on the backs of beasts and have already begun to alter the ways we follow. I will fight you, who claim to be a man, and if your death proves you aren’t holy after all, the boy will soon lie at your side.”
“You don’t know what you will bring down upon yourself!” I shouted with all my power. One man stepped back while others glanced at one another. Two guards climbed down from the wall and raced back toward the dwellings.
“I am willing to test what I know with my own body, and prove its truth.” Irlan’s chest swelled. He took off his garments until he was bare to the waist.
He was, I saw then, a man uneasy with his power. Perhaps others besides the Prayergiver thought he was full of bluster. I had seen him back down in front of his Prayergiver; now he would prove that he was a man after all.
His men made a wide circle around us. I flexed my arms and took deep breaths as I pulled off my shirt. Irlan reached toward his belt and took out his knife, and I saw how we were to fight. My hand grasped the hilt of my metal blade, but I took little comfort from my knife. Irlan’s stone knife was sharp, and there were cords of muscle under his fat.
More men had now gathered on the wall and others were running toward us from the camp. “He has shared a feast with us,” Jerlan cried from the wall. “You heard what the Prayergiver said. He is to take them from this place tomorrow.”
“If holiness were truly theirs, I would allow it!” Irlan bellowed. “It is that I will test now. You will see that I’m right. Haven’t we thrived since I became Headman? Do you wish to see evil come upon us if these two travel east? Do you want that other band to discover that no holiness is in them and that we have harbored evil in our midst?”
“Headman,” Jerlan responded, “if you contend with this man, you must set aside the bond that binds you to us for that time.”
“And I’ll take up that bond again when he lies dead at my feet. You will see I was right, and there will be no more talk of how I’ve grown weaker in my leadership.”
He faced me, legs apart. The Prayergiver was now on the wall above me, but this matter had gone too far even for him to stop the fight. I glanced at Birana. The men standing with her had released her. Her hands were on her coat, as though she was ready to tear the garment from herself. By revealing what she was, she could save me.
Anger burned in me. “I shall fight, Spellweaver,” I shouted, “and you will watch.” She dropped her hands. This was a matter between Irlan and me, and I would be diminished if she revealed herself to save me. Then I forgot everything except the man who wanted me dead.
I danced toward Irlan, muttering curses in my old tongue. His powerful arm slashed at me. I leaped back, unharmed. His body swayed on his heavy legs. I could dodge his sweeps, but would only tire myself with the effort. He moved and swung his arm, staying close to the circle of men so that I could not get behind him. His knife darted at my face and I ducked. If he got too close to me, he could knock me to the ground with one blow. He slashed at me again and I feinted.
Thus we went on, lunging forward, darting to one side and slashing the air, probing each other for weakness. His body gleamed with sweat from his exertions as he slashed at me. I thought of what I would have to do against him. His sweat became rivers flowing down his chest and shone on his unbearded face. Strong as he was, he had grown too fat to fight easily. I began to see that he might tire first.
We went on in this way until it seemed half the night had passed. I panted for breath. Irlan’s fist grazed my face and nearly sent me to the ground, but I regained my footing.
“Come, Irlan,” I said in the holy speech as I swept my knife before me. “You are Headman of a great band, you are large with the wealth of your camp, and yet you cannot defeat me.” I paused for breath and heard his louder gaspings for air. “I am shielded from you, Irlan. Your knife cannot touch me. When you lie before me, I will set my foot on your neck and grind your face in the dust.”
His face grew red. I went on tormenting him with the foulest words I knew until his face flamed and his breath came from him in great gusts.
He stepped away from the circle and lumbered toward me. I jumped quickly to one side. His back was open to me. Before he could turn, I passed my knife to my left hand and struck him in the lower back with my strongest blow. He staggered. I hit him again and felt him give way.
He fell, and the ground seemed to shake with his falling. I leaped to his head and dropped down to his arms on my knees, pinning him to the ground. He kicked helplessly, his face in the dirt, his body heaving under me. My blood sang in my ears, throbbing with a sound like the Prayergiver’s drum. Very slowly, I made a long scratch along Irlan’s neck with my knife and then another along his back.
I got up. “I have won,” I shouted with the little breath I had left. “You see I had the power of death over him.” My chest heaved as I gulped air. “But he is your Headman, and so I won’t take his life. You must decide his fate.”
All of the men were looking toward the Prayergiver. Irlan sat up, raised one trembling arm, then let it fall. “I am one of you,” he said feebly.
The Prayergiver put out one hand, palm open. “You put off your bond when you fought. You said to Jerlan that you would take it up again when Arvil lay at your feet. He doesn’t lie at your feet. You are no longer one of us. You did evil, Irlan. Now the Lady has shielded him from you and shown what he is. You can no longer be Headman, for you failed the contest you yourself sought. Your contest was to be to the death, and it is death you have won.”
I went to Birana as the circle closed around Irlan. We walked together toward the opening in the wall. None of the men followed us. Irlan’s screams were already sounding through the night as we walked past the gardens. I did not look back. Birana halted, and I heard the sound of retching.
I put my hands on her head, trying to steady her. “You are safe,” I said, “and I’ll sleep soundly now.”
I had thought that only preparations for the journey remained, but now the camp was without a Headman and a new one had to be chosen. The Prayergiver left his hut, took up Irlan’s knife and spear, and went from one dwelling to another as both Prayergiver and Headman to learn what was in the men’s hearts. At the end of the day, he surrendered the weapons to Jerlan, and it was Jerlan who became the new Headman.
This change required more prayers from everyone in front of the Prayergiver’s house, where each man had to pass before the
Prayergiver and Jerlan and kneel as he spoke holy words to the pair. Birana and I were the last to honor Jerlan, but because we were not members of the band, we bowed and did not kneel. Jerlan smiled at us then, for if we had not come there, perhaps he would not have been Headman.
Even after this, the band was not ready for us to leave. Jerlan had said Tulan might travel with us. Now he was Headman, and worried that showing his charge such favor might bring about hard feelings. He decreed a contest among the boys, saying that the winner would go with us.
My mind was not on these contests, although I hoped that Tulan would win them. We sat with the Prayergiver as the boys wrestled, shot arrows, ran footraces to the wall and back, threw spears, aimed stones in slings at targets, and threw knives at a bare spot on a distant tree. Jerlan made signs in the dirt at the end of each contest while I watched and longed to be away.
When the contests were over, Tulan had won the footraces and the stone-slinging, while his arrows had found their targets more often than those of others. No other boy had won as many contests, and perhaps the way Birana had smiled at the boy had cheered him. I praised him when he came before his guardian and saw the pride in his face. His journey was no longer a gift, but a prize he had won.
Jerlan stood up, beaming at his charge, and then spoke. “We rest tonight. Tomorrow we shall gather food for the travelers, and on the next day say farewell to them. May the Lady bless us all.”
Before we left, Jerlan wished us well and hugged his charge, and although Tulan’s eyes shone at this leave-taking, he held himself in and did not let his tears fall.
The Prayergiver walked ahead of us as we led the horses through the wall. We walked south and then east, following a faint trail through the wood. When the camp was completely hidden, Birana mounted Flame.
“I would ride,” Tulan said as he gazed up at her.
“You must learn how to sit on a horse first,” she replied. “When we stop to rest later, I’ll show you.” Tulan grinned as she spoke. We had decided to keep Birana’s secret from the boy until we reached the other camp and learned whether those men would accept him, but Tulan was already seeing her as a friend.
The Prayergiver shook his head. “I am too old to learn such a thing.” Old as he was, he walked with the sure step of a younger man. Through the trees, the lake below glistened as the sun shone upon it. I was leading Star and told the Prayergiver a little of how the horse had carried me to this land from the west.
“I’ll tell you this,” the Prayergiver murmured when we were farther ahead of Birana and Tulan. “You have brought me some joy, whatever awaits us, for if I did not have to lead you, I would have remained in my camp until I died. I’m grateful for the privilege of praying to the Lady for my band, but such a life has been hard for me.”
I thought of the Wolf and how he had died as an Elder. “It is not a bad life for an old one to be cared for by those who are younger,” I said.
“But I was a young Headman when the Prayergiver before me died, and the thought of spending my days in my house has sometimes weighed heavily on me.” He glanced back at Birana and made a sign. “May the Lady forgive me.”
“The Lady would understand.”
“The Lady is good, and, had I not been a Prayergiver, I would not have beheld Her form two times.”
These were welcome words, and again I wanted to know the secret of the camp to the east.
“Often,” he continued, “I went to the wall at night and tested myself with one of the guards at the skills of men. Sometimes the men would question me for doing this, but I would say that I had given the days to my prayers and that the nights were my own. I often told the Headman who came after me that he would do well to hone his arts from time to time.”
“Irlan should have listened to you,” I said politely, although I was grateful he had not.
“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.
The Shore of Women Page 33
