Seed was beautiful again, her body almost as slender as before, her breasts and buttocks larger. Her hair still shone. Even bundled in goatskin furs in winter, she attracted the covert gaze of any man in sight. Her possession of a son increased her assurance; she had proved herself, and knew it. When she nursed him in the field, even some women shook their heads, wishing they could have breasts like that. Men privately joked with Stone, enhancing his status: if he ever got tired of being married, and wished to find another placement for his wife . . .
Still Bunny encouraged Blaze to meet with her, studying the city. Stone never questioned it, perhaps because Seed still had him totally captivated. Blaze was after all old, almost forty; he might not live much longer, and so it was good for him to know his grandson while he could.
When Tree was almost two years old, and walking, the drought came again. The goats grazed the pastures down, and the question of migration loomed again. The irony was that to the south and west the rains were good. The city was prospering, its barley fields promising a bountiful harvest. Blaze concluded that its head priest would be in no trouble.
Then came a surprise. A trader came through with a message: the priestess wanted Seed to return, secretly. He showed a piece of linen with a mark on it that Seed recognized as the stamp of the Leopard Priestess Lea. That meant it was authentic. Seed was excited.
“How can you know?” Blaze asked. “Anyone could have sent such a message. Maybe the priest himself, so he can locate you and get rid of you, so you can never embarrass him by giving him the lie.”
“No, this is Lea,” she said. “Her stamp proves it.”
Blaze was not the only doubtful one. So Seed clarified it for the full family. Every man or independent woman in the city had his stamp, which was different from any other; no two were the same. He used it to prove ownership of his property, or the authenticity of a message he might send. He kept the stamp with him, or hidden in his house chamber; no one else could use it. When he died, his elder son inherited the stamp and all the family assets marked by the stamp. Such things were very important in the city, and stamps were never carelessly used. “So Lea is the only one who could have stamped this cloth,” Seed concluded. “And I am one of the few outside the city who could even recognize it as hers. I know she sent the message. It must mean that the situation has changed, and she can restore my reputation in the city, vindicating me.”
“But why should you return secretly, then? That suggests you are still in trouble.”
“Something must have happened that places the high priest in peril,” Seed said. “So that I may be able to help her defeat him when the crisis comes, by testifying as to his lie about me. I was virginal for him.” She reached out to take Stone’s hand before he could get distressed. “Not for you, my husband. But I have given my body to no other man since I came to you.” That much was true.
“Can this priestess be trusted?” Bunny inquired warily.
“Oh, yes, she is a good person. She saved me from death when the priest betrayed me.” She turned again to Stone. “She sent me to you, with the aid of the gods, I know now.”
With a brief dalliance on the way, Blaze thought. He still could not bring himself to regret it, though it complicated her existence and his.
“Then it seems that our time of decision is suddenly upon us,” Bunny said. “You have learned the ways of the city well, Blaze?”
“Well enough, I think,” he agreed. “Yet I had not learned of the stamp, until now.”
“I did not think to mention it,” Seed said. “I have no seal myself; my father in the city has ours.” Then she frowned prettily, concentrating. “If we go there, you must have a stamp, my father. With a unique design.”
“Like his forehead!” Doe suggested. She was now fifteen, older than Seed had been when she came to the family, and she had fleshed out nicely. But she had not yet found a young man to her liking, perhaps preferring to remain with the family awhile longer.
“Stone can make a stamp out of obsidian,” Weasel said. She was now thirteen, and had also fleshed out, but not as dramatically.
“I can try,” Stone agreed, contemplating his father’s forehead.
“First we must decide whether to go,” Bunny reminded them. “This is a serious step. You girls would lose your friends, and be among young men you have not seen before.”
“Boys!” Doe and Weasel cried together, not at all dismayed. So much for that caution.
They discussed it. They recognized that the prospects for another timely turn in the weather were not good; already goats were being slaughtered. They knew that even if the weather turned immediately, it would take time for the pastures to recover. And there could be another drought a year or two further along. The old way of life was becoming more precarious. That was one reason the elder girls were not finding suitable boys: a number of families had already moved out, depleting the tribe.
They decided to go to the city. They would dye Seed’s hair black and stain her cheeks so that she looked older and grimmer, and she would try to speak with a nomad accent. It would not be possible to make her look plain, but she could be lovely with a different complexion. That should conceal her identity, until they learned what the priestess was about.
They traded their house and goats for supplies for the journey. It would take about eight days, as a family of eight, and there might be delay before they were admitted to the city. They might even have to arrange to build their own cell-house there, and that would require the trading of their last resources, because Seed assured them that cell building was a specialized industry in the city.
In a few days they started out. Stone and Blaze took turns carrying Tree, who could not keep the pace. All had solid bags, so that the end of each day saw them tired. Nevertheless they made good progress, and reached the river where Blaze and Seed had camped their last day together. They gathered wood for the fire, and at one point Blaze and Seed carried a log together, one at each end, their eyes linking across it. Blaze wanted to drop the burden and clasp her to him, and knew she wanted the same. But they simply carried the log and set it by the fire, then went on about their separate businesses.
Later he was alone briefly with Bunny. “I think I would put you two together for three days and nights running, if that would wear it out,” she murmured, looking elsewhere. “But I know it wouldn’t.”
“I never sought this,” he said, also looking elsewhere. “Had I known before I met that trader—”
“No, what has happened has been on balance good—and perhaps will be better. She has been ideal for Stone. She is also our avenue to the city, when we might otherwise go hungry. If there is a price, it must be paid.”
“I am glad it is you I married,” he said with genuine appreciation, “for you understand and negotiate my weaknesses as well as my strengths.”
“I do indeed,” she agreed, smiling somewhat distantly.
They slept, Blaze with Bunny, Seed with Stone and Tree, and the three girls together. Blaze dreamed of the place they were in, and of a young woman in his embrace. My love, my love! He woke to know it wasn’t true, suffused with guilt. It wasn’t that he didn’t love Bunny, but that this other emotion had come in and captivated him, like an illness that would not let go. He wished it had never happened, yet simultaneously was gratified that it had, because it had transformed an otherwise somewhat dull existence.
The worst and best of it was that he knew that Seed was similarly dreaming and thinking. She was not truly his dream woman, but she had enough of the dream elements to evoke the old longing. Surely, in time, she would tire of passion for an old man, and turn to the young one who worshipped her. Then, perhaps, Blaze’s own fancy would fade like the foolishness it was.
Bunny stirred. Impulsively he kissed her. She woke. “Is it me you desire?” she whispered.
“I always desired you.” Then, realizing that he was being evasive in the same way Seed was, he qualified it. “I was awake. I knew it was you I k
issed.”
“That will do.” She turned in to him and set about the matter of sex in the way they had always done it. He was eager to desire her, for herself and to diminish the guilt, and soon that desire was there and intense. Bunny did not have the body she had had in her long-ago youth, but it still had qualities that could excite him, and she was completely knowledgeable and cooperative about his ways. There was much to be said for that.
When it finished, and they lay quietly cooling, she put her mouth to his ear. “Do you ever wonder who I clasp in my mind when I’m with you?”
He was astonished, then realized that she was teasing him. “You were in my mind,” he said. “My thoughts stray only in your absence.” And there was a gratifying truth. He had lain with Seed when away from Bunny, and dreamed of Seed when alone in body or in mind. When Bunny chose to take his attention, she could do it, as she had just demonstrated. He had never wanted to leave her, and never expected to. She was his reality.
Bunny squeezed his hand, and was silent. She must have known this too.
He slept, feeling much better.
The journey continued. The family traveled well together, having had experience when moving between the summer and winter pastures; they were after all mountain folk. They reached the volcano, which the girls and Tree were thrilled to see; they ran along its nether slopes, finding good fragments of obsidian. Stone, too, was pleased; he had been here before, but had been too busy in the past three years to make the trip. He explored, searching out special fragments.
That left Blaze, Bunny and Seed to make the camp for the night. They worked to fetch wood and erect the small goatskin tents they carried. Blaze couldn’t help meeting Seed’s gaze every so often, in the ordinary course of events, though he tried to avoid it. This was after all where he had first met her. How significant that encounter had turned out to be! Before that his life had been good but routine. After that . . .
Bunny paused in her practical business of gathering dry grass for beds. “Take a walk with her,” she suggested.
“I have a better idea,” Blaze said. He walked across to Seed. “This is where I bought you for my son. Perhaps if you reminded him of its significance . . .”
She nodded, smiling. She knew that Bunny had understood the situation from the outset; it was Stone’s discovery she feared.
When Stone returned with an armful of fragments, Seed approached him forthrightly. “This is where your father bought me for you, three years ago. This is where it started, though we had not yet seen each other. Perhaps we should celebrate the occasion.”
Stone was embarrassed. “I went off hunting obsidian without thinking of you!”
“Think of me now. Let’s take a walk by ourselves.”
Stone was glad to agree, knowing what she had in mind. They linked hands and moved in a direction opposite to that taken by the others.
Bunny shook her head. “I wish I could manage my man like that.”
Blaze laughed. “You have managed me throughout! I have loved it.”
“That walk with her could have been yours,” she said darkly.
“Then it would have been no more than a walk. Now I will walk with you, and it will not be far afoot.” He caught hold of her and kissed her.
“But there is work to be done,” she demurred.
He kissed her again. “I don’t consider it work. You do?”
“Blaze! In the daytime?”
“They’re doing it in the daytime.” He ran his hands over her body, squeezing the good parts through her clothing. Indeed, he found the prospect of daytime sex exciting.
She resigned herself to the inevitable and returned his interest. Soon they were on the grass bed she had been fashioning, indulging vigorously despite the daylight and their clothing.
“Maybe this was better,” Bunny murmured as it finished.
“Better than what?” someone asked.
They both jumped. There were the three girls and Tree. Doe had spoken, while Weasel was fidgeting because of her sister’s temerity.
“Better than making camp without help,” Blaze said gruffly, putting himself together.
But they would not be shamed. “I never saw it before,” eight-year-old Mouse said. “It was always too dark. Is that exactly how it’s done?”
“Well, there are other ways,” Blaze said. “Here, let me show you.” He addressed Bunny. “Turn over, woman.”
“Some other time,” Bunny said, getting up as she stifled a laugh. There was a titter.
Now the girls helped with the work, and it moved faster. But all three of them were thoughtful. Blaze realized that they really were interested, wanting to know the details so that they would not make mistakes when their turns with men came. Doe and Weasel, now fifteen and thirteen, were both old enough to do it, and perhaps were getting impatient about their lack of experience. Probably he and Bunny should have done it in daylight before, letting their children witness the full course of it. But while they did not seek to hide the fact of sex, neither were they inclined to show it publicly. It was an essentially private act that everyone knew about. Also, if there had been any doubt in the minds of the children about where Blaze’s interest lay, this should have put it to rest. So perhaps this inadvertent demonstration had been for the best. Soon Stone and Seed returned, and Tree ran to Seed for nursing. This at least was freely public. Things were back to normal.
They reached the city on schedule, in good order. It had actually been a pleasant journey, because of the unity of the family. Now they were all apprehensive, knowing that their lives were about to change dramatically.
The city was impressive, even awesome. It was huge. It was like a cliff made of baked mud, rising straight from the ground to well above head height. There were no apertures, just ladders leading to the top.
A man on that phenomenal roof spied them. He waved, and called something indistinguishable.
“My father, you must go and tell him what our business is here,” Seed murmured. “I must act ignorant.”
Blaze walked forward, alone. “Trader?” the man asked from the roof.
“I am mountain,” Blaze called. “Come live in city.”
“Mountain,” the man agreed. “Wait.” He walked away, over the roof, and in a moment disappeared.
Blaze returned to the family. “He says to wait.”
“He will fetch the manager,” Seed said. “That should be Crockson, if he hasn’t died.”
“What kind of name is that?” Doe asked.
Seed smiled. “We of the city have some odd names. He is the son of Crock, who made our earthen pots. Crock died, but Crockson kept the name, though he never made a pot. There are many like that.”
“As long as we don’t have to use weird names,” Weasel muttered.
“Like Blazeson,” Doe agreed. “Or Bunnydaughter. Or maybe Stonesister.” They went into a siege of stifled tittering.
After a time an older man appeared. “That’s Crockson,” Seed said. “I must hide my face, because he knows me.”
“No,” Bunny said. “Pick up your child and look innocent. We need to know that you are no longer recognizable.”
“Oh, yes, I don’t look the same,” Seed agreed, remembering. “And I must remember to answer to my other name.” For they had realized that her own name would quickly give her away. They had practiced calling her Shrew, and the girls had finally managed to do it without laughing. She was of course nothing like a shrew. She picked up Tree, who toyed with a strand of her black-colored hair.
The man descended the ladder and approached. He was old— perhaps older than Blaze—and solid. “You mountain people?” he demanded.
“Yes,” Blaze agreed. “Come live city.”
“You don’t sound much like a mountaineer,” the man said, using the full syntax.
Blaze smiled. “Neither do you. I have tried to learn something of your speech. When I talk to my own, it is more like this.” He turned to Bunny. “Woman, are you sure you want to enter
this strange place?” he asked her so rapidly in their natural dialect that he knew the man would miss most of the words.
“They do talk funny,” she replied the same way. The girls smiled.
The man scowled, not appreciating being made the butt of a joke. “You will have to learn our speech. I am Crockson, the city manager. Do you have any useful skills?”
“Not herding goats?” Blaze said with a smile. He suspected that city folk thought that mountain folk knew nothing else but that and copulation.
“Actually, if you are good with goats, we can use you. They know who they like and will obey. But I was thinking of more solid skills, such as hewing beams or spreading plaster.”
“My son works obsidian,” Blaze said. “Show him your work, Stone.”
Stone brought out several fine blades. Crockson pursed his lips. “You made these? You did not trade for them?”
“I made them,” Stone agreed.
“I recognize that type. We have been trading for them for several years. Demonstrate to our craftsmen that you can do this, and you will have a secure place here.”
“And my wife and son,” Stone said, indicating Seed and Tree.
Crockson hardly glanced at them. “Of course. We shall be glad to cut out the grasping trader, for these. We will supply you with obsidian and other stone. But you must produce.”
“This is what I do,” Stone said.
Crockson returned to Blaze. “What else?”
“I work with fire.”
“Tending mountain hearths?” The question was derisive.
“Fire hot enough to crack some stone. I know the woods that will do it.” He touched his forehead. “I was marked for fire from birth.”
“We will test you with our coppersmith,” Crockson said. “We need fire men.”
“And my wife and daughters?”
“They go with you.” Now the man considered the girls. “They will be willing to marry city men?”
Isle of Woman (Geodyssey) Page 22
