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.”
“You speak truly. Some youth is in my soul still.”
We slept and, in the morning, the Prayergiver said many prayers as we prepared to go to what I hoped would be our refuge.
Toward midday, I felt eyes upon us and knew we were being watched. I caught no sight of anyone. These men had the stealth of Jerlan and his band and betrayed themselves with no sound. As we walked on, the cries of birds echoed among the trees, but something in their song made me wonder if it was birds that sang it.
As we reached a clearing that looked out over the lake, a voice behind us said, “Cast down your weapons.”
We obeyed. Four men dropped to the ground from the trees around the clearing, lifted their bows, and aimed their arrows at us. “We come in peace,” the Prayergiver said.
One man lowered his bow. “You wear the garments of the lake bands,” he continued in the holy speech, “as does that boy, and yet you bring two strangers here, and beasts as well. You know that you cannot enter our camp.”
“I am Prayergiver for my band. I have traveled here before and have seen your holy vision.”
The man gestured angrily. “Then you know you were not to return.”
The Prayergiver held out his hands. “If I cannot enter, then bring your Prayergiver outside your camp, and I shall speak to him of another vision I have seen.”
“Another vision?” The stranger scowled.
“I shall tell your Prayergiver of holiness.”
“He’s too old and weak to leave the camp,” another man said.
“Then bring out your Headman, so that I may speak to him. I tell you that, blessed as you are now, your blessings will be multiplied if you heed me and welcome these travelers. If you do not, a curse will fall upon you.”
The first man who had spoken laughed. “Do you think we, so loved of the Lady, can be cursed by you?”
“It will be so if you don’t welcome these two travelers.”
“We take strangers into our camp no more and speak to them only away from it. I shall tell these two now that, if we do not like what we hear, they must die. We have a truce with you, Prayergiver, but not with them.”
“I must speak to your Headman,” the Prayergiver said firmly. “You know that I wouldn’t have traveled here and left my band without my prayers for something of little consequence.”
The men spoke among themselves, and then another stepped forward. “You may turn back now, and we shall let you leave safely.”
The Prayergiver shook his head. “I’ll stay until your Headman speaks to me.”
“You risk breaking your truce with us, old man.”
“Then I’ll risk it.”
The men said more to the Prayergiver in the lake tongue, and he replied in the same speech. At last one man turned and ran into the wood while the others remained.
“He will fetch their Headman,” the Prayergiver said. “It is he who will have to decide about us. It seems that while we wait, we must make our camp here.”
By nightfall, no one had come for us. We would have to sleep under the eyes of the men who guarded us.
The horses had been tethered, but our guards kept well away from them. I raised a shelter for Birana and then lay down beside her. “If the Headman doesn’t come,” I said, “you will have to show them what you are.”
She shivered. “But the Prayergiver seems to think it’s important to speak to this Headman.”
“It doesn’t matter. Would you rather feel an arrow in your chest?”
She said no more that night, but once she called out in her sleep. I put my hand on her shoulder to calm her, wondering if it had been wise to come here.
In the morning, the Prayergiver took out some food, but I had no appetite for it. I gazed at the piece of dried fish in my hand for a moment, then rose and walked toward our guards. “For you,” I said, “so that you will know we mean no harm.”
One man stretched out a hand, but his companion slapped his arm down. “Don’t take it. We will not take food from one who may have to die at our hands.” His brown eyes were hard as he looked at me.
I walked back to Birana and sat down. “Can this camp be so far?” I asked the Prayergiver.
“It isn’t far, but perhaps the Headman must decide if he should come here.”
“And if he does not?”
The old man glanced at Tulan, then spoke softly. “If he doesn’t, hope those others see the truth before you die. I have a truce with them. I can defend you only with words.”
I waited impatiently, thinking of trying to escape with Birana on our horses before they could stop us. But it would be useless to flee. We did not know this wood, and the horses, slowed by underbrush, might not be able to outrun the men.
Three men suddenly emerged from the trees. A fourth man followed them into the clearing, and I knew before I was told that he was Headman here. He was tall, even taller than I, and his spear was decorated with feathers as Irlan’s had been. His unbearded face, with its strong chin and even features unmarked by blows, was one of beauty. His light brown hair fell to his shoulders and though his bare, broad chest was nearly as wide as Irlan’s, he carried no fat on his body. I did not want to risk a contest with this man.
The Prayergiver rose quickly and bowed; Birana and I followed his example. The Headman spoke a few words in the lake tongue.
“Greetings, Headman,” the Prayergiver answered in holy speech. “I would speak to you in this tongue, for it is holiness I bring to you.”
“Do not stain your soul with false words, Prayergiver,” the Headman replied in the same speech. “You were not to travel here again, but now I’m told you have seen a vision. What holiness can you bring us that we don’t already have?”
“I bring holiness, and you will see it and be sorry for your words. I swear by the Lady that I’ll offer my life freely to you if you do not find holiness, for I don’t want to live if my vision was a false one.”
These words had clearly moved the Headman. He handed his spear to one of his men, then said, “And how will I know the truth of this vision?”
“You will see it.” The Prayergiver waved a hand at me. “Our Headman challenged the truth this man told me, and contested with him, and died for his foolishness. This boy proved himself in contests before we came here and wants a place with you. I would have you accept both of them among your men.”
The Headman looked at Birana. “And this other boy?”
“That one will show you that my holy vision was true.”
The Headman’s lip curled. “We will take the smaller boy if I find you have been truthful. If not, he will carry the news of your death, the death you chose, and word of the deaths of these strangers back to your camp.”
“They are my friends!” Tulan cried out. “You mustn’t hurt them.”
“Be silent,” the Headman said. I put a hand on Tulan’s shoulder, moved by his words but afraid of what the Headman might do. He looked down at Tulan from his great height and the shadow of a smile touched his lips. “Brave words are empty unless followed by deeds, and you are too small to give your words force.” He looked around at his men, then turned back to the Prayergiver. “You say that your Headman challenged the truth of your vision. Didn’t a truthsaying reveal the truth?”
The old man said, “There was no need for a truthsaying, as you will see.” He moved closer to Birana. “This one will show you.”
As the Headman gazed steadily at Birana with his dark eyes, a look of wonder and then understanding passed over his face. I was suddenly sure, without knowing why, that he had guessed what she was. “Prayergiver,” he said, “you will come with this one and with me, and we shall see what truth is revealed. If an evil one has deceived you, I will not have my men stained by the evil.”
He walked toward the trees. Birana, head bowed, followed him, t
he Prayergiver at her side. I wanted to follow her, to shield her however I could.
I sat down with Tulan to wait. I would never forgive myself if harm came to her; I would contend with this Headman even if it meant my death. A long time seemed to pass, and then there was a shout from the trees. My throat was dry with fear.
The Headman came into the clearing, holding out an arm as Birana and the Prayergiver emerged from the trees. “Holy messenger!” he cried to me. “Forgive me for my words.” I knew then that we were safe and yet saw no awe or fear in this man’s face, only triumph and pride. “Kneel!” he shouted to the others. “Know that we who were blessed are blessed again. The Lady has come among us in this guise, and a holy aspect is among us.”
Birana had taken off her coat and held it at her side. Her belt was over her shirt, around her waist, making the swell of her breasts and hips apparent. This was enough to convince the men, who knelt and struck their heads on the ground. Tulan gaped at me for a moment, then threw himself onto the grass.
“She and Her messenger seek to live among us,” the Headman continued. “Give thanks that we have been found worthy once more.” Hope rose in me. His words could mean only that he had seen at least one of Birana’s kind before. Yet still he did not bow but stood easily at her side, as though this vision were no more than his due.
Birana was pale. Fear marked her face, and her hands trembled at her sides. She did not look like one who had found a refuge. She staggered, then righted herself, and I wondered what she feared now.
I helped Birana mount Flame. Her hands were cold to my touch. “She is truly holy,” one man said, “for Her power has tamed even these beasts.”
“Tulan shall guide Her horse,” I said as I handed the reins to the boy. He smiled at me, his eyes wide with awe.
A dark look passed over the Headman’s face as he came to my side, and then vanished as he nodded at me. I thought I had seen anger, but how could I have angered him? “I’ll lead you to my camp,” he said.
The Shore of Women Page 34
