The Shore of Women

by Pamela Sargent

  “This is where we swim,” I said, waving a hand at the water.

  “So you have said.”

  “The water is shallower here, and the sun warms it.”

  He moved a little closer to me. “I am a better swimmer now.”

  I groped for more words. “Tell me what you’ve been doing during the past days.”

  He sat down on one of the rocks; after a moment, I seated myself next to him, careful not to get too close. “I should tell you this,” he said in my language. “You must remain cautious in how you treat Yerlan. He still harbors a longing for you. He doesn’t admit it openly, but when he speaks of you, I hear what is in his voice. He wonders how favored a place I have in your thoughts.”

  “Yet he sent you here,” I said.

  “He has a liking for Tulan, perhaps because he has no charge of his own. The boy is bold, and when the Headman said he would send Tulan here, Tulan asked if I could go with him. Yerlan agreed, but he didn’t seem happy to do so.” He paused for a bit. “You haven’t spoken alone with him for some time. Perhaps you should when I leave here.”

  “I’d rather be near him as little as possible.”

  “You can sit in the clearing. He can do nothing there. It would make him happy to speak more to you of his doings, and it may make matters easier for me. I want him to send me here again, and perhaps he will if you show him some favor now.” He reached toward me. “I’ve missed you, Birana.”

  I let him hold my hand as all the feelings I wanted to deny flooded into me. I wanted his hand on mine; I wanted him close to me—further than that my thoughts did not go.

  I said, “I have missed you, Arvil.”

  He released my hand and slipped his arm around my waist. I sat very still, hardly able to breathe. “My longing is still great,” he said. “Even your absence does not weaken it.”

  “You mustn’t speak of that.”

  “I know what you have told me, and now I am learning Wirlan’s lore. He has taught me much, and he’s also told me a little of what has passed here since your companion came. What his private thoughts of the Lady are, I cannot say, but he knows the lore of ill or weak bodies, and he sees that your companion has a body not unlike our own.”

  “What has he told you?” I asked, remembering what Nallei had told me.

  “Only that the Lady’s spirit is trapped in such a body. He has joined with her, as have others. Do you think a man who knows his lore can so easily put it aside and believe that you or your companion are something other than what he sees or feels? Others may be blinded by the worship they have been taught, but Wirlan is not such a man.”

  I thought of the healer. I had felt uneasy with him, when he was on the island, but had attributed that nervousness to what I knew about him from Nallei; he had said nothing to provoke it. “You shouldn’t be telling me this,” I said. “If Nallei… ,” I paused, but I had said her name and could not call it back. “If my companion knew of this…”

  “She will do nothing against him, and I do not think you will. He’s silent about such thoughts except with me, and even you and your friend may need his healing in time.” His arm tightened around my waist. “But it is this I wanted to say. You told me of what would happen when a man joined with a woman, and yet your companion has joined with many, and with Yerlan often, and nothing has come of it. You say a woman would grow large, and a child would come from her body. Your companion could not have hidden this, especially from Wirlan.”

  “You don’t understand. She…”

  “You say she is older and a man’s seed doesn’t grow in her. She could not have been old when she came here. You have not been honest with me.”

  I thrust his arm from me.

  “You said that to join with you would mean your death, and yet she lives and thrives. You didn’t tell me the truth. You wanted only to keep me from you, to frighten me with your story because you knew I cared too much for you to harm you. Am I so hateful to you? Is my body so hateful? Then why do you call me friend and smile at me? Why do you sit with me now and then draw away?”

  “Nallei hates what they do,” I whispered. “I would hate it as much.”

  “But you would not. Look at me and tell me that your soul doesn’t long for me.”

  I forced myself to raise my head. He embraced me and his lips found mine. He drew me down next to him on the rock. His mouth was gentle against mine as he stroked my hair with his hands.

  My lips parted. I had been without love too long, I told myself; I could not have responded to him otherwise. I tried to push my mind outside my body, as Nallei did, but was trapped inside myself. His hands gripped my waist and slipped under my shirt to cup my breasts.

  I pushed his arms away violently and sat up. “Are you going to tell me now you don’t long for me?” he said softly. “Can you not find a way to share yourself with me? I cannot force myself upon you—there would be no joy in that for me. Tell me if there’s a way I can be with you without causing you harm.”

  I bowed my head, shamed, unable to answer.

  “Birana, I cannot bear this much longer. I could hold myself from you when I believed I might harm you, but now I know that doesn’t have to happen. I am tormented. Tell me that you can never be with me, and I’ll accept it and leave this camp. I can find another band, and you will be safe here. Perhaps then I can forget.”

  I could not bear the thought of losing him altogether. “I can’t let you go,” I said. “If you left...” I gazed at him, unable to say more.

  He raised himself on one elbow. “You will have to guide me, Birana. If a time comes when we can be together, you will have to show me what to do. I can wait if I know such a time will come.”

  What could I tell him—that it was only my fear of losing him altogether that might make me surrender? That I was only showing gratitude for all he had done? That I still saw Laissa when I looked into his eyes? This would be part of the truth, but not all of it.

  I heard a sound above us and looked up. Nallei was descending the hill. She could not have seen us or heard our words, and yet I felt that somehow she had.

  “Tulan is by your boat,” she announced. “Go there and stay with him until We have need of you.”

  Arvil got to his feet, nodded, and walked back along the way he had come. When he was gone, Nallei undressed and plunged into the water without speaking. I followed, but the water had grown too cold for us to remain in it for long. We climbed out and stood on the rocks shivering as we waited for the sun to dry us, then pulled on our clothes.

  Nallei sat down and began to comb her wet hair with her fingers. “You were pleased to see Arvil here,” she said.

  “Of course. He’s my friend.”

  “Birana, he’s more than that to you.”

  My hands fell from my hair. “Just what do you think I am? Do you think I’m deranged? Do you think I could…”

  “Haven’t I been honest with you? Do you think I could despise you after what I’ve had to do? I think it’s time you were honest with me. We have only each other. I might be able to help you.”

  I choked, and then my head was against her shoulder as I wept. “I don’t know what I feel,” I whispered between sobs. “When I’m with him, something in me… Nallei, what’s happened to me? At first, I saw something in him, a resemblance to one I loved, but now…”

  “Calm yourself, girl.” She patted my shoulder and dried my tears with her sleeve. “I think it’s time to tell me what you haven’t said. What has passed between you both?”

  “There’s something I didn’t tell you before, about my journey.” I began to tell her of my first meeting with Arvil, how he had gone to the enclave and returned with a command to kill me. She listened without interrupting. I told her everything I had revealed to Arvil about the cities and how I had made sure that my city would believe me dead.

  When I was finished, she stood up and paced along the shore, deep in thought, and then climbed back up to me. “He cared for you enough to overcome h
is fear of your city,” she said as she sat down. “He cared for you enough to throw aside all of his beliefs, because to hold on to them would mean you would have to die. Even when he knew that you had no way to resist him, he didn’t force himself upon you. I wouldn’t have thought a man was capable of such feeling. Is it any wonder that he seems to have awakened some feeling in you?”

  “What I feel is sick and contemptible.”

  “So those in the cities would think. We’re not in a city now. The cities wanted us dead… does it matter what they think? You’re young, at an age when the urge for love is strong. Had you been in your city, with young women who might have been your partners, that urge would have been satisfied, but you’re here now. I think that maybe there were few such partners for you and that your capacity for love had no outlet, but your feelings are there, and Arvil has somehow awakened them. Long ago, women felt such feelings for men, and perhaps that capacity still lies inside some women. Perhaps those dormant feelings, in the absence of a woman to satisfy you, have been roused.”

  “It can’t be true. I couldn’t…”

  She leaned toward me. “Birana, I’ll tell you what the men here have been to me. They feel awe, and grovel, and do my bidding. They worship the spirit that they believe lives in me. They also long for a body they’ve been conditioned to want. When one enters my hut, it’s only his lust he wishes to satisfy, and then it is I who must humble myself. That’s all there is for me. They worship me and then take what they want from me. There isn’t one who ever felt even a bit of compassion or caring for me. It had to be that way for me. Perhaps if even one of them had seen past that, had seen me as I am, it might have been different, but too many years have passed and too many men have used me to make that possible. It doesn’t have to be that way for you.”

  “What are you telling me to do?”

  “I can’t tell you to do anything. You must decide that. I can’t feel scorn for you whatever you do, and I think you’ve feared that.”

  “Arvil may leave this camp,” I said. “He may leave because of me.”

  “You might be losing much.” She helped me to my feet. “You had courage when you found your way here. Try to show some of that courage now.”

  Nallei and I shared a meal inside the hut, and when we were done, she left the hut and walked down the trail leading to the boat. I laid more wood on the fire, then went outside to wash out our cups.

  Arvil was climbing toward me as I poured a little water into the cups; I poured it out quickly and stood up, clutching at the cups and the waterskin.

  “Your companion said you might have need of me,” he said. “She has gone with Tulan in the boat—she said she wished to spend the day on the water.”

  We were alone then. I stepped back, nearly dropping the cups. He took my belongings from me and set them on the ground.

  “You can swim in the cove if you like,” I heard myself say. “The water will be warmer now.”

  “Tulan and I swam before, when you were with your companion.” He touched my hair lightly and rested his cheek against the top of my head. “I have wanted a time alone with you, and the one you call Nallei has given it to us.”

  I shivered.

  “Even she has seen my longing.”

  I stumbled away from him. He caught me around the waist. I tore myself away from him and hurried into the hut.

  On the platform lay a piece of leather. Nallei had been marking the days of my cycle there with a stone so that I would be prepared for the days when I bled. I picked up the leather and counted, noting the days.

  The hide over the door was lifted; Arvil’s silhouette darkened the entrance. He stepped into the light of the fire. “Do you wish me to stay?” he asked. “You must tell me now. There will be few such moments for us.”

  I set down the hide. “There would be no danger for me now,” I said, surprised at how steady my voice was. “A woman’s body has its cycle, as does the moon. There are days when a man’s seed won’t grow inside her. This is such a day for me, I am sure. My cycle has been regular since I came here.” Nallei had seen this, I thought. She had sent him here; she had forced this decision upon me, but she had also known I would be safe. I wanted to be angry with her, yet she was only giving me a chance to settle what was between Arvil and me. I could still send him from the hut, uttering words cruel enough to make certain I never saw him again.

  “Birana,” he murmured.

  “I’ll need some wine,” I said. “It will deaden my thoughts, and then you can do as you like. If I must do this to keep you as my friend, then I’ll do it.”

  He came closer to me. “Do you think that’s how I want you, having you suffer my touch instead of welcoming it?”

  “Give me the wine.”

  He picked up a jug and poured some wine into a cup. My hands shook as I took it from him; I gulped it down, then drank another cup.

  He moved toward the mat, picked up a hide, and lay it on the dirt floor. He reached for me then and drew me down to him.

  The wine, instead of dulling me, had sharpened my awareness. If I closed my eyes and felt only his hands without looking at him, I could pretend he was a woman, forget what he was. I could imagine that the hands lifting my shirt, the hands touching my breasts, were not Arvil’s. I lay at his side, and his gentleness made it easier to pretend he was not a man.

  He took my hand and pressed it against his chest; I could no longer pretend. He had taken off his shirt; with his other hand, he loosened the belt around his leather trousers. He drew my hand to his abdomen.

  “Birana, Birana.” He repeated my name, as if it were a chant. He lay across me, pressing my back against the hide while I tried to push him away, but he was too inflamed with longing by then to release me. He drew my hand to his groin, still covered by his garment, and held it there; he was hard against my palm.

  He gasped; his breath was hot against my ear. He let go of me suddenly and sat back on his heels. “I long for you too much,” he said as he untied my belt and slipped my pants over my hips. I closed my eyes again, listening to his movements as he took off the rest of his clothing.

  He lay down at my side. His hand cupped my cheek for a moment as he kissed me, then dropped to my breast. I had thought he would be impatient, yet his hands lingered on me, circled my waist, slipped under me to caress my buttocks and stroke my thighs.

  Perhaps the wine had robbed me of any power to resist. I thought to myself: It is a woman with me, but my mind summoned no images except that of Arvil.

  I opened my eyes and gazed into his face. How could I ever have thought of him as ugly? A friend looked out from those eyes, a friend who loved me. “You must help me,” he said. “Show me how I can give pleasure to you.”

  I could not speak. His hand moved across my belly and between my legs. I had expected roughness, but his fingers were gentle as they probed.

  “I have learned something from the spirit-women,” he whispered, “but you must guide me now.”

  I was now watching myself from afar and yet still feeling what my body felt. My hand dropped to his as I guided him, feeling my wetness on his fingers, leading him along my folds and to the tiny nub that nestled there. My back arched as he touched me; I heard myself moan as I opened my legs.

  I released his hand. He would want to enter me now; I would have to endure it. The tip of his finger slid inside me, and then he was exploring my folds again, moving his hand tenderly over my nub. I could no longer hold back, crying out as the tiny spot of pleasure grew and then blossomed. I moved against his hand as my body shuddered with my response.

  His organ was in my hand. He drew my fingers along his shaft, then clasped his hand tightly around mine as he moved against me. He groaned as his seed suddenly spurted from him; he had spent himself without entering me.

  He stretched out next to me. “You felt some pleasure with me, Birana. You cannot deny it now.”

  “You didn’t…” I said.

  “You must be ready for me. I
felt that you weren’t, but I have had pleasure from you. This is enough for now, to take this smaller joy and have the greater one of knowing that you can accept my touch.”

  My head was clearing. A man had touched me; he had brought me to completion, and I had welcomed it. He had seen me respond; he knew that I would remember this and long for him again. He had restrained himself, not entered me even when he must have ached for that; but I could not think kindly of his restraint, only that I had given him even more power over me.

  I sat up. The sight of his nakedness should have repelled me. His chest rose and fell as he sighed. His eyes were closed; one muscular arm was curled under his golden hair. His penis, so large in my hand, seemed smaller as it rested against his thigh. I thought of how he had touched me and felt my belly tighten.

  I jumped up and grabbed at my clothes. “Birana!” he called out. I darted from the hut and ran down toward the cove, heedless of the twigs and brambles lashing at my legs and the pebbles under my bare feet. I dropped my clothes on a rock and threw myself into the water, wanting to cleanse myself.

  I dived down under the surface and moved through the dark and silent depths. I thought of what Yvara would have said, what every woman I knew would have said. I was ill, besotted, sick, and twisted; I had done a shameful deed, had shown that they were right to expel me, that they had somehow sensed the evil that was inside me.

  My head broke through the water; I gulped for air. Arvil was standing by the shore. He set down his clothing and waded in as I swam toward him.

  “Birana…” he said.

  “Don’t speak to me now.” I climbed out onto the rocks, feeling his eyes on me. I wrung the water from my hair, then pulled on my clothes.