The Shore of Women

by Pamela Sargent

  The men, I learned during the days that followed, were companionable enough among themselves, but in the camp with the women, they wore stern faces as they ordered the women about or waited to be served. Hyacinth was carrying Gull’s child, yet he often forced her to stand beside him while he ate, weary as she was from her work and the weight of her belly. Willow, the other young woman, was expected to comb Skua’s hair and beard with the spine of a fish, although he could have groomed himself. Cress and Violet, the older women, dragged heavy loads of wood into the camp, sometimes helped by the boys, Egret and Pelican, but never by the men.

  The women gathered plants, fished in the river, went down to the seashore to look for fish and shells, laid away food for the winter, and kept the camp clean. The men hunted, made tools, garments and weapons, and patched the huts. There was work enough for all, but the men accepted the labor of the women as their due while expecting the women to be grateful for what the men provided.

  Whenever one of the men wanted to lie with a woman at night, he made a quick gesture toward his groin with his hand and the woman followed him to the small hut. The women gave no sign that they sought this joining or welcomed it, and I never saw one beckon to a man. I soon saw that Gull always lay with Hyacinth, in spite of her large belly, while Skua went to Willow and Tern summoned either Cress or Violet.

  It was Tern who explained that each woman could lie with only one man, but that if enough time had passed without his seed taking root inside her, another man could summon her for a while. This was, he told me, so that each man would know where his seed had grown. Thus Tern knew that Pelican, born of Cress, carried Tern’s own seed, while Egret, born of Violet, was Skua’s child.

  “Skua has lain with Willow for some time,” Tern told me, “but nothing has come of it.” He shook his head. “Another man will have to try her soon. Egret will be old enough before long.”

  “You could try your luck.” I found the words distasteful but was trying to banter with him as the other men did.

  Tern was shocked. “That cannot be. My seed gave her life in Cress’s body.” A man, it seemed, could not lie with a woman born of his seed or with a woman who had carried him inside herself. A man could lie with a woman born of the same mother or with one who shared the same father, but only after both had lain with others.

  “You see why you are needed,” he said. “Let us hope that others are born to you and Birana.”

  I did not reply. To have her endure this ordeal once was painful enough. I could not let her suffer it again. I had wanted to bring her to safety; now I worried about what this band might do to her spirit.

  Several days after I had come to the camp, I went to the women’s house and called out to them. Cress came to the entrance and peered out at me.

  “I want to see the child Lily,” I said.

  “Forgive me for asking this, but what can you want with her?”

  “I have learned some healing lore from another man. Perhaps I can help her somehow.”

  Cress shook back her graying hair. “There is nothing you can do,” she said, but led me into the hut. Lily sat by the hearthstones weaving a basket of reeds. A tremor passed over her; she dropped the basket as her hands fluttered.

  “The man Arvil wishes to see you.” Cress glanced at me suspiciously. “I humbly ask you to be quick about whatever you wish to do. I must gather more wood before dark comes but will not leave her alone with you.”

  I sighed. “I mean her no harm.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, but I have known men to become roused by young ones not much older, even when they know they cannot be summoned and are too young to bear children. I would ask you if I can wait here.”

  “You may wait,” I answered.

  She beckoned to the girl, then sat down next to me. Her gold- brown eyes gazed at me directly as I passed my hands over Lily’s small body. Except for the cleft between her legs, her body was like a boy’s.

  “It is hard for her to be the only girl-child here,” Cress said. “Already Egret and Pelican try to fondle her.”

  “If you made her garments so that she could cover herself, perhaps she would not rouse them.”

  The woman shrugged. “When the weather is warm, it is easier for them to run naked. We shall put on garments soon enough. The men don’t like it when the weather grows cold.” She tugged at her loincloth. “They would rather see our bodies and display their own. You should tell Birana that she need not wear so many garments in this season.”

  “You should think of your own wants sometime, and not only those of the men.”

  Cress pursed her lips. “Birana said that you were not a man like others. You are more different than I thought.”

  Lily shuddered again. The tremor passed. “How long has she trembled?” I asked.

  “I saw it not long after she was born. She has always been thus. Hyacinth has borne much sorrow—first Lily and then a child who had to die.” She made a sign. “I pray that her next child will be unmarked.”

  I felt Lily’s hip. “This hip is not set like the other,” I said. “That’s why she limps. It is as if her leg bone was pulled from its socket.”

  “It was hard for her to walk at first. She would fall.”

  “Someone injured her. How did it happen?”

  Cress was silent.

  “Do you know? Can you tell me?”

  Cress lowered her eyes. “You must tell me,” I said in the commanding tone the men used.

  “When she was born, her foot came through the passage first. I had to pull her out, there was no other way.”

  “Tell me more of this, Cress.”

  She threw up her hands. “I cannot! You’re a man. I cannot speak of these things to you.”

  I patted Lily on the arm and then released her. She crept back to the hearth and sat down, bowing her head. “Then think of me as a healer and not as a man,” I said. “Birana will have a child. I must know that she will be helped and not harmed.”

  Cress pulled her hair across her face. “It’s the head of a child that should come through the passage first, but that did not happen with Hyacinth. I did what I could. I did not want to injure the child, but this was all I could do. I swear to you that I’ll do my best to keep Birana’s child from harm.”

  “Do what you can for Birana,” I whispered. “If she is harmed, I won’t care about the child.”

  Cress cleared her throat. “There is a strong feeling in you for her. It cannot be only your man’s need.” She got to her feet. “You’re an odd man, Arvil. There is a man’s strength in you, and yet you are unlike the others. You listen to my words even when I do not ask permission to speak them. You scrape the hairs from your face even though it is only women and children who have hairless faces.” She shook her head. “And Lily? Can you bring any healing to her?”

  “I can do nothing,” I said bitterly. “I cannot force her leg into its proper place without risking more injury to her. I don’t know what causes her to tremble. The man who taught me healing was wise, but even he could have done nothing. I am sorry.”

  “May I leave you now? I must gather wood.”

  I nodded. She picked up a long leather sling and left the hut.

  “I am sorry,” I said to Lily. “I would give you herbs or a root to see if that might stop your trembling, but such potions might make it worse. Often it is best for a healer not to act when he doesn’t know an ailment’s cause. Perhaps it is an illness that will heal itself in time. You are brave to face it without complaint.”

  She glanced at me from the sides of her eyes, then picked up her reeds. I went outside. Birana was walking into the clearing with a small sack of plants she had gathered. All my fears for her suddenly welled up inside me.

  I motioned to her. “I must be alone with you,” I said in the lake tongue. “Will you come with me to the small hut tonight? I’ll make the sign in front of the other men, but we do not have to share pleasures—your company will be enough.”

  S
he set down her sack. “You don’t have to ask.” Her mouth twisted. “The other men need only make the sign, it seems.”

  “I shall always ask. I won’t make that sign unless you wish to come with me.”

  She smiled, but her eyes were still sad. “I’ll go to the hut with you, then.”

  By evening, my desire for her had grown, but the sight of the men grinning and winking as I made the sign nearly robbed me of my longing. We walked together to the hut. Tern whispered to Skua, who laughed.

  We entered; I picked up a hide and laid it over the mat on the ground. “Do you want a fire?” I asked.

  Birana shook her head. “It’s warm enough without one. Anyway, the men would expect me to fetch the wood here for it.”

  “Birana, you will do as you wish when you’re with me.”

  She stretched out on the hide. I meant only to hold her, but my hands reached under her shirt as my lips met hers. I wanted her, then remembered what my past pleasures would force her to endure.

  I released her. “I cannot,” I whispered. “I fear what may happen to you. I looked at Lily today. Cress told me how she entered the world, and now I fear even more for you.” I paused. “I can do nothing for the girl.”

  “She has a palsy of some kind. I had thought such things were gone from the world, but here…” She turned her head toward me. “The women will help me, Arvil, and I’ve always been strong. You mustn’t worry. It may be easier for me than it was for any of them.” I felt she was saying this only to soothe me.

  “It isn’t right for the men to treat them as they do.”

  She sighed. “They don’t know anything else.” She went on to speak of stories the women told among themselves, although not to the men.

  The women lived in the hope that others of their kind would someday come to the camp and restore their magic to them. They took Birana’s presence as a sign that this might happen soon. They accepted the labor that they did, met the demands of the men, and told themselves that their ability to bear children showed their greater power. They knew nothing of the cities except that others of their kind lived there and that their Goddess was to be feared. The men might say bitter words about the regions the Lady ruled, but the women, in secret, occasionally prayed to Her.

  “What have you told them about yourself?” I asked.

  “Only that I was sent out of a city. They don’t know why. They want so desperately to believe I was sent here to help them, that others will come too. I don’t know how to tell them it isn’t so. They have so little to hope for.” She reached for my hand. “You mustn’t tell that to the men, though.”

  “I understand.” I wondered what other secrets the women kept from the men. “Wouldn’t an enclave help these women if…”

  “Women who live with men as they do? I don’t know. Such women aren’t supposed to exist. Now they’re harboring me. They’d probably die simply for that.”

  Her voice was so despairing that I searched for a way to cheer her. “Tomorrow,” I said, “I shall leave this camp with my spear and your arrows and bow. Meet me and we’ll hunt together again. We don’t have to say anything about it to the band.”

  “The women wouldn’t say anything about it anyway, although they’d probably scold me for it. I can’t go. They’ll expect me to do my own work.”

  “You will hunt with me, and I’ll forage with you.” I held her close to me until we slept.

  We hunted together only a few times that summer. Birana seemed strong, but as her belly began to swell, she grew more listless. At first, she risked the anger of the men by glaring at them when one ordered her about or by speaking without asking permission. Soon, she was doing her work without protest. I remembered how proud and brave she had been and despaired.

  We had to work to lay aside enough provisions for the winter to come. The men had described the winter of this land to me. It would not be as harsh as some I had endured, but as the summer drew to an end, a sharp wind often blew through the camp from the sea.

  At night, when the camp was quiet, I sometimes sensed the distant roar of the sea. I welcomed the sound, which called to my soul. Sometimes, I would leave the camp and sit alone on the shore with my thoughts, marking the movement of the water as it crept up the sand.

  A day came at the end of the summer when the women went to the sea to dig for clams in the wet sand. I had watched them at this work before, but they would not let me help and seemed to want this time away from men. I followed but sat on the hill above the beach to watch. The band had come to the shore often, had built a fire, and dug a pit in which to steam the clams along with salty wet seaweed, but the weather would soon be too cold for this work. All of the women wore shirts and leggings now. Hyacinth’s shirt was tight over her belly and Birana’s would soon be too small for her.

  They laughed and chattered as they dug for the food. I had brought a hide with me and worked at the leather with my stone, happy to see the women in this easier mood; I recalled a dream of women beckoning to me from another shore. They picked up their burdens of shells and began to climb toward me, all except Willow, who was putting her clams into her sack. They smiled as they passed me; Birana was about to speak, and then her eyes grew distant and cold.

  I turned. Skua was behind me, approaching the shore. The women passed him silently. He came to my side, stared at Willow for a moment, then scrambled down the sandy slope toward her.

  He strode up to her. I expected him to help her with her sack, unlikely as that was. He was speaking, although I could not hear his words. She backed away, shaking her head. Skua seized her arm. She tore herself away from him. He leaped after her and threw her face down on the sand, then pulled at her leggings and loincloth. She scrambled to her knees as he tugged at his own loincloth. He pulled her toward him by her hips and entered her, thrusting against her as she clawed at the sand.

  I jumped to my feet. The woman had given no sign that she wanted this and many signs that she did not. I hastened toward them, but even as I pitied Willow, I could not take my eyes from this coupling. Something in me was roused by this sight, however I fought against it.

  Skua finished, stood up to adjust his loincloth, and caught sight of me. I thought he would be angry, but instead he beckoned to me. Willow curled up on the sand, weeping; the marks of his fingers were on her hips.

  “You have hurt her,” I said. I held out my hand, but Willow shook her head and covered her face with her hair. I wanted to comfort her but had only shamed her by witnessing this act.

  Skua shrugged. “She is often thus. Perhaps a child will come of it this time.” He narrowed his eyes. “If she doesn’t grow a child soon and yours is born without flaw, perhaps you should try her.”

  I recoiled at his words, which he said as though Willow were not with us. “I shall see what Willow wishes,” I replied.

  “She has nothing to say about it.”

  “I seek no pleasures with one who is unwilling.”

  “You had better learn what you are and what a woman is.” Skua lowered his eyes. “You do not say it, but I see that she has roused you.”

  He had seen what I could not admit, for my member had grown stiff. The sound of his laughter followed me as I stumbled away.

  An evil had entered me. I could not put what I had seen from my mind; I had been without pleasures for too long. I walked on toward the camp, struggling with my thoughts, aching to feel a woman around me.

  In the camp that night, I made the signal the men used to Birana. I had never done this before without knowing earlier that she wanted to be with me. Her lips tightened as I gestured. The men had seen me make the sign, and she could not refuse me.

  She spun around and walked toward the small hut. Skua’s lip curled as I stood up. I thought of his hands on Willow’s buttocks, of how his member had plunged into her, of how her helplessness and protesting movements might themselves have aroused him. My desire was sharper than it had ever been before.

  The inside of the hut was nearly da
rk. Only a little moonlight shone through the openings under the roof. As Birana sat down, I knelt behind her and pulled at her shirt.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she whispered in the lake tongue.

  “I must… I need…” I forced her down on her belly.

  “You’re hurting me.”

  “I must…”

  She twisted away and struck me. “Oh, I understand. How quickly you adapt. Well, you’re still stronger than I am, especially now. Go ahead, do what you like. If I resist too much, you can call out to the others. They’d probably come here and hold me down for you, and then tell you what a fine man you are for taking what you want.”

  She stretched out on the mat. The thought of her lying there enduring me, hating me, suddenly repelled me. “My need is too great,” I whispered. “Today, I saw Skua with Willow, on the shore. I knew she didn’t want him, and yet…”

  “I can imagine what you saw. I’ve heard the women talk of what the men do.”

  “Yet they stay here,” I said. “There must be some pleasure in it for them.”

  “Where can they go, Arvil? How would they live? They come here with the men because they’d be beaten if they didn’t. Sometimes they have some pleasure, and often they don’t, but it’s worse if they fight it. The men only deceive themselves by thinking that the women want it. Is that what you want from me?”

  “This place has poisoned me,” I said. “I’ve seen men have their way with weaker ones before, but the sight never roused me—I remembered what it was like to be a boy at the mercy of men. But a boy can grow strong enough to have his revenge on one who torments him too much. Willow will never grow stronger than Skua. He’ll always have his way with her.” I sighed. “These men see the women only as ground for their seed. I hate myself when I think of what they do, and yet their evil is in my soul.”