The priestess questioned Seed closely, and ascertained her day. Seed did not understand the intricacies of that calculation, but was satisfied that Lea did. As it happened, that time was only three days away. There would barely be time to schedule the ceremony.
On that day, Seed was exquisitely garbed in the ceremonial leopard- pelt robe, open at the front to display her breasts and pelvis, demonstrating her nubility. The Priestess Lea used red rouge to heighten the color of her lips, and pale powder to lighten the rest of her face and cover blemishes, and dark paste to make her eyes shine out of pools of night. She did the same with Seed’s breasts, so that they became like alabaster with dark nipples. She used an obsidian blade to trim the ragged fringe of her pubic down, making it perfectly even. She painted Seed’s fingernails and toenails red, and polished her teeth so that they glistened white. She brushed out Seed’s hair with some kind of preparation, so that it spread out like a voluminous cape, seeming twice as thick and full as it ever had before, and its surface glistened. She set a circlet of precious copper on her head, and bracelets of brightly colored and polished cowrie shells from some far sea on her wrists and ankles. Finally she hung a collar of woven leopard hair about her neck. From it dangled a lead pendant shaped in the likeness of a leopard giving birth to a bull. It fell just between the separation of her breasts, and swung when she walked, colliding with one breast and then the other, calling attention to both. Satisfied, Lea showed Seed her reflection in a water mirror whose dark pan enabled her to seem to look right through it and see herself as a stranger. Indeed, she was the loveliest strange woman she had seen in all her life. The very sight of herself, clothed as she was with all the symbols of fertility, excited her desire to achieve that fertility. Surely it would have much greater effect on any man, who was by nature already eager to explore the mysteries of fertility.
The priestess peered up through the entrance hole in the shrine. “There is a cloud,” she said. “Perhaps the weather will turn after all.”
“I hope there’s a deluge to soak us all, right while he’s in me,” Seed said. “And not a moment before.”
Lea smiled. “I hope so too, dear. That would certainly demonstrate your fertility.”
Now it was time. They mounted the ladder and stood on the plastered roof. The nine other girls were already waiting on adjacent roofs. They were the honor retinue for the leopardess of the season. Each wished that she could have been the one chosen. Had she known before what she knew now, Seed might have been satisfied to see one of the others win. But this was her duty, and she would carry it through.
They fell in around her. Each was garbed in flimsy clinging linen robes that became translucent when viewed from shadow toward light, showing how well they too represented the fertility of the female form. If a company like this did not incite the gods to enormous fertility, they were surely beyond satisfaction.
They reached the edge of the city. Three ladders had been set against the outer wall. Lea and Seed used the center one, while the suite of maidens used those on either side.
At the base stood the complement of men, the honor guard for the maidens. Each wore a bull-hide robe and a skirt made of bull leather. They formed around the maidens, before them, after them, and to the sides, and marched up the broad lane toward the ceremony field. The nine girls formed an oval within that enclosure, surrounding Seed and Lea.
Seed knew the ritual well, having been rehearsed on it many times. But now it was as if she had never been tutored. Her mind went blank, and she seemed to float in the center of a flock of birds, knowing nothing of her destiny. How glad she was for the immediate presence of the priestess, who knew exactly what to do. So she moved along, guided by Lea and the formation around her, keeping her place.
Now, in her detachment, Seed focused on the event to come. She had blithely repeated the rote about the potency of the bull and fertility of the leopardess, but of course she had never touched a man sexually. Suppose she got together with the Bull Priest Boro, and it didn’t work? That her anatomy simply didn’t fit, or something, so he had to give up in disgust? Suppose she froze, and became hard as a plaster wall, and all her decorations availed nothing?
“Do not be concerned,” Lea murmured. “Just relax, and let him do it. It is not possible for you to fail, if you are there.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” Seed whispered, surprised.
“You forget that I went through this myself,” the priestess replied. “I was terrified, at this point, but I made myself limp like a rag doll, and later I was told I performed beautifully. No one knew my inner incapacity. No one will know yours.”
“But you know!”
“Be assured that I will keep the secret—as will you. The men must never know that we are not as self-assured as we are beautiful.”
“They must never know,” Seed agreed gratefully.
They came to the main barley field, where the ceremony was to be held: as close to the crops they wished to influence as possible. A large altar of wood and mud brick had been made in the center, and on it was a thick mat. Beside it stood the High Priest Boro, wearing a great bull-hide cape and a headdress of bull horns. The ceremonial costume made him look magnificent.
But Lea was glancing at the looming bank of clouds. Seed understood her concern exactly: the gods were showing their readiness to participate. But if they were not pleased with the ceremony for any reason, they would withhold their rain, and the crops would not be good. If Lea’s suspicion about Boro was correct, the gods might well be annoyed enough to make a more substantial demonstration—such as sending a drought that would destroy the crops entirely. Because of the bull priest’s inability to put a baby in the leopard maiden.
Seed could understand the gods’ frustration. Fertility was not a single thing, it was a pervasive complex of things. Through all of nature male sought female, and female brought forth more of their kind. How could a ceremony be perfect, if the male’s potency lacked substance? She could only hope that the great bull god and leopard goddess would give the priest one more chance, and bring the vital rain this season.
Indeed, the clouds were thickening. They seemed likely to bring rain before the day was out. Perhaps they would even fulfill her dream, and bring it at the moment of her participation. Then all would indeed be well.
“Now I must join the invocation,” Lea murmured. “When I signal, you mount the altar and lie on it. Wait until I join you there before you get up again. That is all you truly need to do.”
How wonderfully simple she made it seem. All this ritual reducing to a simple lying down and getting up, when signaled! Surely Seed could do that much without error.
The ceremony began. Boro made a speech, addressing the gods and begging their indulgence. Then he turned to Lea. He brought out his penis. “Here is my potency,” he proclaimed. “Where is your fertility?”
“She is ready,” Lea responded. “Leopard maiden—come to the altar!” She gestured to Seed.
The circle of maidens around her opened to make an avenue between her and the altar. Seed walked forward, hoping she wouldn’t stumble or do something similarly gauche. She quelled her impulse to hurry, and instead focused on her legs, making her hips move from side to side and the lead pendant swing, rebounding from her breasts. She saw the young men staring at her, and knew that every one of them envied the priest who was to penetrate her. That was an exhilarating thought! She was, at this moment, the ultimate symbol of fertility.
She reached the altar, stood by it, turned, sat on it, then leaned back until she lay flat against it. Actually it was humped, so that her pelvis was highest, for ready access. She let her thighs spread and her legs touch the ground on either side. Her arms fell down so that her hands touched the ground also. Her leopard robe opened naturally to expose her full torso. Here she was, in contact with the earth at four points, her breasts pointing at their angles to the sky, east and west, her head north, and her pelvis south. She was as ready as she could b
e.
The bull priest approached. He got down on her and set his hardened penis at her pelvis. Suddenly he thrust, and she suffered a sharp pain. She bit her lip to stop from crying out. But he did not stop there. He drew back somewhat, only to thrust again, and again, repeatedly so that she could not count the times, each one seeming harder and deeper than the prior ones. She had not realized that it would be like this! Was something wrong?
Then at last he shuddered to a stop. He lay on her, his weight squeezing out her breath, making her gasp. Finally he lifted himself, and he was gone from on her and in her. It was over.
She lay where she was. Indeed, she would not have known what else to do. Her pelvis was raw and stinging, and something was tickling her, as if she had wet herself.
Lea came to her. “Rise, child,” she murmured. “You have done your part.”
“But I hurt!” Seed whispered. “And something—”
“Use this.” The priestess gave her a soft, spongy cloth.
Seed used it to wipe her smarting pelvis. She was shocked to discover a red stain. It was blood!
“It is all right,” the priestess said. “You did well.”
“But there can not be blood,” Seed whispered. “Not at this time of my month.”
“This one time, there can be,” Lea said. She drew the robe around Seed’s torso and guided her back to her escort of maidens.
Seed distracted herself by looking again at the sky. What she saw dismayed her. The wind had shifted, and the looming clouds were dwindling, retreating the way they had come. There would be no rain. She had after all failed.
The march back was a blur. Seed was dimly aware of the priestess tending to her, cleaning her up, making her comfortable. Of eating something, and sleeping.
The next day she felt better, and in three days she was all right. The priestess explained that with some girls the first penetration was painful, and there could even be bleeding. But that was no shame; instead it was unequivocal evidence that she had been virginal. It was one of the things the priestess had checked for when selecting candidates for the ceremony. It was best for them to be not only virginal, but able to prove it by this means. In this manner she reassured Seed. But she seemed pensive, as if she feared something.
On the third day it happened. There had been no rain, and the sky was so clear it was obvious that there would be none. The building promise of rain had been destroyed at the ceremony.
“Because the leopard maiden was not a virgin!” the high priest proclaimed. “She spoiled the ceremony, and the gods were revolted.”
“That’s not true, that’s not true!” Seed cried when she heard of this.
“I know it is not true,” Lea said. “It is a lie he is telling to cover his own failure. It will not fool the gods, but I fear it will fool men. The worst has happened. We must get you out of here.”
“No! I must go and defend my honor!” Seed cried in deep distress.
“Child, it is not so easy. Do you think he will allow you to refute him? Even if you could make yourself heard, you would not be believed, for you are only a girl while he is the dominant priest. But he will not take even that risk. He will seek to have you killed.”
“Killed!” Seed cried, appalled. “I am innocent!”
“Indeed you are. But this is politics. I had hoped it would be all right. I thought he would not dare do a thing like this. But when the weather turned so abruptly, it was a signal from the gods that no one could mistake, and he had to act. He reversed it, shifting his blame to you, and I fear that he can get away with it. If I try to defend you, I too will be in peril, because I selected you. In that way he can also eliminate the threat to his power that I represent.”
Seed knew that the woman was not lying to her. “Oh, what can I do?” she asked tearfully.
“I have prepared for this,” the priestess said. “As I prepared last year, but did not have to do it. I have made a deal with a trader. He will take you as a slave girl, to be sold to some man far from the city. He will make his profit, and your life will be saved. It will not be the good life you deserve, but perhaps neither will it be bad.”
“But I know nothing of the lands beyond the city,” Seed protested.
“You will learn. And do not give up hope. The matter is not at an end; I will safeguard my power, and when the priest makes a mistake I will pounce like a leopardess and destroy him. Then I will be able to bring you back, and vindicate you, and in that way vindicate myself. Your exile need not be permanent. Just take care of yourself as well as you can, and I will summon you when I am able. This I promise, by my honor as the priestess of the leopard.”
Seed believed her, and knew that this was her only feasible course. She let herself be garbed in a linen robe and nothing else, in the manner of a slave girl, and that night followed Lea out over the roofs and to a secret ladder. There was a man waiting. He took her and guided her to his stash of goods, and put a blanket over her. Then he fetched a collar and tied it snugly about her neck, and tied the other end of its anchor cord to a bag of goods. Then he heaved up his other bag. “Now you will stay here or walk,” he said gruffly, in strongly accented city language. “If you walk, you can carry or drag your burden, but you will not escape it. If you keep the pace, I will feed you; if you do not, I will not. If you try to run away, I will beat you. If you behave well, I will leave you alone. If you please me, I will sell you to a good man. If you do not, I will sell you to a bad man. Now do as you decide.” He set off into the night.
Seed knew that she had descended into the most menial of lives. But at least it was life, instead of death. She picked up her heavy bag and trudged after him.
The trader was true to his word. He was not, she discovered, a bad man, merely a tough one. He did not rape her or even mistreat her. After he had made his point, and she obeyed his directives without question, he gave her a bit of bread and some water, and let her sleep. When she tired the next day, and he saw that she was truly trying to keep up, he slowed his pace, and then he made temporary camp by a stream and allowed her to bathe and rest. He seemed not even to watch when she drew off her inadequate garment and washed herself, but she knew that he would be after her in a moment if she tried to run away. She also suspected that he did not sleep as soundly as he pretended, and at night she neither approached him nor tried to move too far away from him. He did not feed her enough, but she realized that he feared that only her hunger truly bound her to him. She was docile and uncomplaining, knowing that things could get worse than they were.
Yet she could not stifle the tears. She had had such hopes of life, and now she had only fears. Her future was a terrible blank. Would she ever see her loving family again?
On occasion they stopped while the trader traded. There were isolated hovels scattered across the land, and sometimes travelers stopped to do business. Seed kept to herself at such times, trying not to be noticed, and the trader allowed it. He wanted to get her farther away from the city before selling her.
Several days out the trader spied a lone man, a hunter by the look of him. “Hunters treat their women well,” he said. “I will try to sell you to him. If you make a bad impression, he will not buy you. Then I shall be displeased.”
“Will I be worse off with a bad man, or with you?” she asked.
He laughed, surprising her. “If you truly fear him, and I believe that your fear is merited, I will allow you to discourage him without penalty. But do not try my patience.”
So it was that she came to talk with Blaze. “Now I would like to have you buy me for your son,” she concluded. “But I know you will not do that.”
“Why not?” Blaze asked, amazed. “You have told me your story, and I think I understand enough of it to appreciate your situation. Why do you think I should not wish to buy you, or that my son would not want you?”
She brushed her long hair away from her face with the backs of her fingers, a gesture he was coming to like. “Now you know that not only am I not a virgin,
I am in disgrace. It is possible that I am indeed at fault in some way, and the gods are punishing me, and will bring misfortune on anyone who tries to help me. I may even carry a baby that will never be your son’s. I have no training or skills useful in your kind of life. I am, it is said, beautiful, but I have nothing else to recommend me to your family. I see you are a good and kind man. Therefore I have told you my story, so that you will know me for what I am and can avoid being hurt by my presence.”
“But at what cost to yourself? Won’t the trader be angry with you, if I do not take you?”
“Won’t the gods be angry with me, if I bring mischief to a family that does not deserve it?” she countered. “Better that I suffer alone.”
Blaze was profoundly moved by her speech, for he could see that she was sincere. “Oh, Seed, we of the mountain pastures understand about the ways of boys and girls, and place no great store by virginity. We require only that a woman be true to her husband in body and spirit. We do not worship the gods in the ugly manner of the city folk, so they will not hurt us for rescuing you from that. If you have a baby already, we will raise it as our own, for we freely adopt the children of others when there is need. All I ask is that you try sincerely to learn our ways, and to do what you can without shirking, for our life is harsher than that you have known. And that once you marry my son, you be faithful to him until such time as your marriage severs, and not seek some other life. This is the way of our people.”
She stared at him, seeming unready to believe. The tears had never wholly left her face; now they streamed copiously.
Blaze stood. He held out his arms to her. She launched herself into them, and sobbed into his shoulder. No further discussion was required.
Blaze did not need to deal directly with the trader. The man already knew. He was gathering up his bundles and the twenty obsidian blades, deciding to make camp somewhere else.
They set off for Blaze’s home, leaving the trader to carry both his bags. Blaze did not have the fine cloth he had come for, but he was satisfied. Seed was much the better bargain, he was sure.
Isle of Woman (Geodyssey) Page 18
