The Shore of Women

by Pamela Sargent

  I lifted my head, but heard nothing, and hoped the two would be too intimidated to try anything like that. “We’ll come here every day we can,” I said as the sun warmed me. This time, Nallei did not protest.

  My monthly time came and passed. Nallei showed me how to use pieces of soft hide she kept for this purpose and how to clean them. The full moon arrived. I expected to be taken with Nallei to the Prayergiver’s hut and was longing for that change in our routine, but a wild storm raged over the lake that night. We remained in our hut while the men celebrated their rites without us.

  Now it was Nallei who urged me down to the cove to swim. Her body was growing browner and firmer. I wanted her to grow healthier and stronger, not just for her sake, but for mine; I feared being left alone.

  At last I summoned one of the guards. Out of Nallei’s hearing, I asked him a few questions about Arvil and Tulan. Tulan had proven himself in a few contests with other boys and was making friends; he had already accompanied some of the men on a hunt. Arvil was learning various new skills, such as fishing from a boat and making the clay pots the band fired in a pit, but it was clear that hunting was his most useful skill. Both had continued to care for the three horses, which most of the men avoided, although Tulan was teaching two of the boys to ride. Arvil, it was said, was also trying to learn about healing from one of the older men.

  The young guard told me little else, and that night, I awoke from a dream. I could not recall much of the dream, which was fading in my mind even as I struggled into consciousness, but Arvil had been part of it. I suddenly felt a longing for his presence that was so sharp I started, nearly awakening Nallei.

  I kept still until her even breathing returned. Now that she was drinking less wine, she no longer tossed restlessly or cried out in her sleep. Somehow, in the dream, I had felt that Arvil was lying at my side, his hand on my arm protectively. I realized how much I missed him then, even with Nallei’s company, and decided to find an excuse to go to the camp.

  I woke up later than usual, then found I was alone. I went outside, but Nallei was nowhere in sight. She did not return to our hut until I had finished preparing our tea.

  “Where were you?” I asked as she entered. “Are you swimming so early now?”

  Her face seemed troubled as she sat down; she shook her head as I held out a cup. “I had to speak to the men. I want them to give a message to one of those who will replace them.” She paused. “I think you should go to the camp today. We need more clothing. You can ask the men to show you some hides.”

  She must have sensed my wish. “You’ll come with me, won’t you? I don’t know if I could speak to them alone.”

  “You ought to learn, then. I can’t go with you, Birana. Stay there for the day and come back in the evening. Remember, Yerlan is the leader, and he’s proud, so be sure to speak with him if he’s there.” Her voice was flat; she refused to look at me.

  “Nallei, what’s wrong?”

  Her smile seemed forced. “There are matters I must attend to here.” She did not explain what they were, and I felt I should not ask.

  I dressed in one of her shirts; it was too loose on me and I put my belt over it, pulling it in at the waist. After combing out my hair with my fingers, I put on a necklace of colored stones one of the men had made for her.

  As I was about to step outside, I turned. “I could wait until you’re finished with whatever you have to do, and we could go together.”

  She shook her head violently. “Go!”

  I hurried outside and descended the trail. Another boat was approaching the island. The two men on shore greeted the arrivals in their own tongue, then helped me into their boat. Three men had come to the island; as my boat left the shore, one of the three began to climb toward Nallei’s hut.

  “Honor is his,” the man behind me said in the holy speech.

  “May we be so honored again,” the second man replied.

  I paid little attention to them. I might see Arvil soon, and that thought made me happier than I had expected to be. I hoped that he was not out with a hunting party, and that he would want to speak to me. The thought that he might not, that he was with men now and could form new friendships, suddenly lowered my spirits.

  When the boat had landed below the camp, other men carried the litter to me. I seated myself, and they bore me to the clearing. Several men were seated in front of dwellings, working at spear joints and shaping arrows; Arvil was not among them.

  “Holy One!” the Headman called out as he left his house. He bowed as he came near; even from the height of my litter, he was an imposing figure. “I pray that You will smile upon us,” he continued. “If there is anything You wish, You need only ask it of us.”

  I smiled at him as kindly as I could, and he beamed, as though I had given him a great gift. I realized he was younger than he had seemed at first; he could not have been much past childhood when he had become the leader. Nallei had warned me about his pride, and for one so young to be made a Headman had to mean that he was one I should treat carefully; he had been chosen over older, more experienced men.

  “I would speak to you, Yerlan,” I said, sensing that if I asked for Arvil immediately, he might be offended. My litter was set down in front of the Prayergiver’s house; the old man hobbled out to greet me, bowed, murmured a few words, and then left us.

  Yerlan seated himself in front of me. “He will continue to pray,” he said. “You see that we are greedy for Your blessings, Lady, and continue to pray for more.” He raised a hand to his forehead in a gesture of respect. Necklaces of bead and stone hung around his neck, but his chest was bare; the light brown hair on his head was thick, yet his chest was smooth and the fair hair on his arms had been bleached by the sun. I was ill at ease with him; fortunately he kept his eyes lowered. “What is it You wish, Holy One?”

  “My companion and I need more clothing. I would see what hides you have for Us.”

  He shouted to others in the lake language, and several men were soon carrying hides to me. An older man came with them; he peered at me intently and summoned a boy who was close to my own height and size.

  “I would be honored to make garments for You,” the older man said as he measured my form with his eyes.

  “Do so,” I replied, pointing to two of the hides. The man quickly took the boy aside and began to measure the hides against him.

  “Tell Me of your band’s activities during the past days, Headman,” I said. Yerlan spoke of their food stores and of their preparations for the harder seasons of fall and winter; unlike Irlan, he still hunted with his men. I waited in vain for him to speak of Arvil and was soon searching the clearing for a sign of him as Yerlan droned on, emphasizing his own prowess as a hunter and leader.

  As he paused for breath, I said quickly, “You have done well. I am pleased.”

  He gazed into my face, then lowered his eyes to my chest, and I had a sudden impulse to cover myself with one of the hides on which I was sitting. I could not let him see my fear. “It is said that My messenger Arvil is now one of you,” I continued.

  He scowled for a moment before composing himself. “It is so. He is Arvil no more, but Vilan, one of the men of the lake.”

  I wanted to speak to Arvil then but was afraid to ask for him immediately; instead, I asked Yerlan to summon Tulan.

  The boy was soon running toward me, trailed by a few other lads. He knelt at my feet, his face aglow while his friends watched him enviously. I asked him about the horses, and he assured me they were well, that he exercised them every day, and that he and Arvil had found ways to use them as beasts of burden. “But some,” he finished, “have complained about the stink of their wastes.”

  “They should not. Take those wastes when they are dry and mix them with the soil of the fallow garden. They’ll help to restore the soil.” I nodded at Tulan. “You have done well. Now I would see My messenger.”

  Yerlan’s mouth tightened. Tulan scurried to one of the dwellings and beckoned to those
inside by the entrance. Arvil emerged and walked toward me, head lowered; I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me or not. He bowed to Yerlan and then to me.

  “I would ride with My messenger for a time,” I announced. Yerlan was still smiling, but his face darkened a little. “And after that, I will share a meal with you, Yerlan, in your dwelling, with you and the men closest to you.”

  The Headman got to his feet as I stood. “I will have You carried to the horses, Lady.”

  I shook my head. “I shall walk.”

  I felt Yerlan’s eyes upon us as I followed Arvil. The horses had been tethered to a tree just beyond the circle of dwellings. Flame nuzzled me as I stroked her head. As I mounted, Arvil murmured, “I thought you had put me from your mind.”

  “I didn’t forget. I wanted to see you before.” I patted Flame and murmured to her soothingly as he mounted Star. “I was afraid that if I asked for you to be one of my guards, I might offend Yerlan somehow. My companion tells me he’s a proud man.”

  “That is so, and it’s Yerlan who chooses those who are sent to the island, but your companion is free to ask for others as well.”

  “Then I’ll ask for you,” I said.

  He glanced at me from the corners of his eyes. “It would be better to let Yerlan choose me. He’s a man who seeks to be higher than others in the Lady’s thoughts.”

  The horses trotted along the pathway between the gardens. “We must stay near the wall, where the men can see you,” he said. I sighed. Honored I might be, but I was a prisoner as well; I wondered if these men would ever allow me to leave them.

  We rode through the opening in the wall; the guards watched as the horses slowed their pace. We were far enough from them to talk without being overheard. “Birana,” Arvil said, “have you been happy here?”

  “I have a new friend. The men bring us everything we need.” I shook back my hair. “But the days are long with so little for me to do.”

  “Is the other one kind to you?”

  “She’s been kind, but she doesn’t know how much I’ve told you. I don’t want you harmed, and I’m afraid she might think you’re a danger if she realizes how much you know. It seems she’s told these men little of the truth.”

  “You may be wise,” he replied. “There’s a mystery about her, and no one speaks of it to me. Sometimes men are called to her, and all long for this more than anything. During their rite of the full moon, it is said that Yerlan is taken to the island. I saw his anger when she could not come to the camp this time, although he tried to hide it. No one will tell me of the rite—I am told only that I will learn of it in time.” I thought of how evasive Nallei had seemed with me.

  We had come to this end of the wall and turned back to retrace our tracks. “Perhaps,” he went on, “it is her beauty that makes her spell on them so strong. She’s like the spirit-women I remember.”

  I felt a twinge. Maybe I no longer seemed as beautiful to him; there was another to compare me to now. I was surprised at how much this disturbed me; I didn’t want to talk of Nallei any more. “Tell me of how you’ve passed your time,” I said.

  He had hunted with the men; he was now learning some of the healing arts from a man named Wirlan, arts most of the band had not mastered. “There is one plant,” he said, “that brings an ecstasy to the soul, but Wirlan told me I must not drink of the potion the men brew with it. Once this band used it for certain rites of prayer, but now it is drunk only by those summoned into the Lady’s presence.”

  “I suppose that accounts for some of her spell,” I muttered, as I reined in Flame. “Arvil, I must find something to do. It’s wearying to have every need met with little effort on my part.”

  “I understand. Every man needs his tasks.”

  “And so do women. I should learn the language of these men.”

  “I could teach it to you. I’m learning it quickly now.”

  “And I should know other things,” I said, “more about hunting, how to gather plants, how to use a spear and bow. I’m helpless now.”

  “These men can protect you, Birana. You wouldn’t need to know such lore unless you were planning to leave this camp. It seems this isn’t enough for you, that the new friend you have found is not enough, that you still dream of another refuge.” He spoke softly, but a vein near his temple stood out. “I have new friends here, and learn new arts, and know that you are safe, and yet you would leave that behind. And I would be bound to follow you.”

  “I wouldn’t ask…”

  “How could I not follow? My soul still burns.”

  I lowered my head. “My companion says that she knows of no refuge except this one, and I must learn much before I can chance leaving this camp.” I paused. “Is there anyone here you can love?” I asked. Is there one, I thought, who can give you what you can never have from me?

  “Wirlan is kind, but he treats me as his charge. There are a few men of some beauty who have sought pleasures with me. Would that I could grant them, but instead I think of you.” His voice was hard. “And have you sought love with your new friend?”

  I shook my head. “She doesn’t seem to want love. She also treats me as a charge.” He gazed at me intently. “I’ll have to find a way for you to teach me certain skills,” I said quickly. “I may never need them, but I must have some way of passing the time.”

  “I’ll hope for that, so that I can be with you.”

  We rode back to the open space. Yerlan was sitting outside his dwelling, clearly anxious for me to join him and his men. He leaped to his feet as Arvil and I dismounted. “Our food is prepared,” the Headman said. “I would have Vilan join us, for I see that his company is pleasing to You.” His mouth twitched a little.

  Before I could reply, Arvil spoke. “If you order this,” he replied, “I shall honor your wish. But the Lady has already graced me with Her words as we rode, and it isn’t fitting that I join such worthy men while they dine with Her.”

  “My servant speaks truly,” I said.

  Yerlan smiled. Arvil seemed relieved and led the horses away, while the Headman guided me inside his house.

  Yerlan’s men had prepared deer, eggs, fish, and vegetables. Because I did not want to demean his hospitality, I ate as much as I could. We sat on mats around the hearth while the men entertained me with legends of their band—stories of a hunter whose skill was so great that the Lady came to hunt with him; of a gardener who learned a spell that could make a seed grow into a plant that reached the sky in one day and upon which he climbed to the moon; and of a small boy who healed an injured eagle and was carried by that bird to the Lady’s realm. Throughout these narratives, I felt Yerlan studying me and could not meet his eyes.

  Later, I was carried to the gardens to see what grew there, and then some of the boys held a contest with spears, which Tulan won.

  Yerlan and the Prayergiver sat with me during this contest. When it was over, the Headman leaned toward me. “The full moon will come again,” he murmured; I wondered why he was stating this obvious fact. “I shall come to the island on the day after the full moon appears, as I always do. Since You have come among us, Holy One, I have prayed that You will honor me.”

  His dark eyes were fierce. My voice caught in my throat. He continued to stare at me until I said, “I thank you for all you have shown Me today, but I would return to My companion now.” His lip curled a little. For a moment, I was sure he had seen how frightened I was of him.

  Near the island, a small flock of ducks was feeding among the reeds. The men, Nallei had told me, did not hunt the ducks when they came there, since they were considered under her protection. The three men who had come that morning were sitting by the rocks near their boat. One lifted his head and stared at me as I stepped ashore.

  I hurried up to the hut, certain that Nallei would want to hear about my time in the camp. The inside of the hut was dark; the fire had gone out. I lifted the hide across the doorway and looped it over the pole that held it so that the setting sun could prov
ide a little light.

  Nallei stirred. She was sprawled on the mat; a leather shirt covered her body. Two empty jugs lay on their sides near her. She had been drinking again, probably for much of the day.

  I leaned over her. “Nallei.”

  She started up and threw a hand over her eyes, then clutched at the shirt. “No!”

  I knelt. “Nallei, what’s the matter?”

  She shook her head, then buried her face in her arms. Her shoulders shook; I thought I heard a sob. I reached for her shoulder, but she shied away. “You were drinking,” I said. “It’s no wonder you feel this way. The men brought us some wild strawberries. I’ll have them carry them up here. We can…”

  “Get away from me.”

  I got our fire burning again and sat near it while she slept, then laid a hide next to the fire. I slept uneasily that night, getting up occasionally to be sure Nallei was covered and to feel her brow. I worried that she might be ill but felt no fever.

  She was better in the morning. She accepted a cup of tea and listened as I told her of my time in the camp, but said nothing until I had finished.

  “I should apologize to you,” she said at last. “It was the wine that made me so irrational. I just want you to know…” She held out a hand. “You’ll be safe, Birana. I’ll see to it.”

  “But what…”

  “Enough! I’ve said what I have to say.” Her tone cowed me into silence. “It’s time for us to go to the cove.”

  The time of the full moon came once more, and Nallei grew solemn as she prepared for her journey to the camp. She sat passively as I combed out her dark hair with my fingers and trimmed the curls around her face with a sharp stone. The sun had given her face a golden glow and the skin over her cheekbones was tighter, while her body was firmer from her swimming.

  “You are beautiful, Nallei,” I told her.