Lesbian: A Lesbian Life Worth Repairing

by Astrid Seguin

  Then she followed his instructions. The staircase at the end of the hall took her down into a pit of darkness. The farther down she went, the less light followed her, until she groped her way forward one foot at a time, with her hand clinging to the reassuring solidity of the wall.

  Then her foot failed to find any more stairs. Lorrine stood for a moment, straining her eyes to see anything in the gloom. Off to the left, she saw a trace of light, shockingly bright against the darkness, although she suspected that in the world above the light would scarcely be noticed. Cautiously, one step at a time, she moved towards it.

  "Hello?" she called. "Hello, Elmaria? I'm Lorrine."

  No response. The light led her to a room filled with glowing lichens and fungus. Lorrine gazed around her in wonder, at the sheets and lumps and mushrooms of all sizes, all putting off a faint greenish, yellowish, or bluish glow. She almost missed the dark-robed figure off to the side, until the woman moved.

  "You are the daughter of Malina?"

  The old voice made her jump. "Yes," Lorrine said, tearing her eyes off the glowing garden and finding the speaker.

  "Come, let me look at you in the light."

  A hand beckoned, and Lorrine moved towards it. What light? Despite the glow of the fungi, the darkness still pressed against her, thick and intense. But that didn't stop Elmaria from inspecting her granddaughter thoroughly.

  "I see both of them in you," the old woman murmured. She seemed far older than Arentin, and yet, she clearly could not be that old. She'd married Arentin's son, after all, and bore him children. "They think me mad, you know," she continued. "All of those folk upstairs. I am not mad. I merely shun the world of the light and the living, for down here I can bring no further harm to anyone, only the mushroomy goodness of my produce. I need not watch any further antics of my offspring, or my grandchildren. It is safe here. But you, you bring the old troubles back with you, with your skin like Malina and your bones from Mintarre. You make me wonder all over again how I failed my son, and think how I should have listened more closely to my daughter. How fares my daughter in her exile?"

  "I left home several annums ago, Grandmother," Lorrine said, somewhat off-balance. "When last I saw her, my mother had settled with her husband in a small cottage on the shore of a lake, and was in good health."

  "You sound as if there was bad blood between you. No surprise there, given the circumstances of your conception. At least she overcame her revulsion well enough to raise you, rather than abandoning you."

  "Abandon me! No, she wouldn't have done that."

  "And now, my son tells me you ride with a man? Is this man your husband?"

  Lorrine laughed. "No, not at all. We are together, but not married."

  Her grandmother sniffed disdainfully. "Well. We shall have to remedy that situation. Unwed women simply do not have paramours."

  "You mean, you want me to marry Derfek?" Lorrine almost liked that idea, but certain things in their past made her feel uncomfortable about taking such a step. Such as Derfek's little habit of sleeping with any woman he could find.

  "Certainly not. I will have to find you a suitable man of your own people. It would make no sense for you, daughter of royalty, to marry a man barred from setting foot on Dargasi lands."

  "Now wait a minute—"

  Elmaria raised a hand, easily visible against the glowing backdrop. "Enough. I will hear no complaints from you, granddaughter. You must become one of us now, and learn our ways. Now. Leave me, and tell my son I will have you stay."

  The old woman turned back to her mushrooms, dismissing Lorrine very thoroughly. Lorrine stared for a long moment, thoughts racing through her head as she watched Elmaria fiddling with her mushrooms, humming softly as she poked and prodded at the fungi.

  Then Lorrine shook her head, and left. Some fights just weren't worth having.

  Stormrider

  Kama taught her first embroidery class when she'd been at the school for a month. During that time, she'd found some sort of balance again, and moved back into the world of the living if not with joy, then at least with willingness to meet each day's challenges head on.

  Oddly enough, she discovered within three days that she liked teaching. She'd worried a bit before the class started, because she'd never taught a class before, or even a single student. But she found herself settling in like this was her twentieth class, not her first. Her first batch of students were all fully competent with needle and thread, being well on their way to becoming full-fledged seamstresses. But even the simplest of folk like nice things, so it wouldn't hurt a seamstress one little bit to be able to stitch an elegant flower on a humble apron now and again.

  And Kama found that, little by little, having things to fill her days with and responsibilities to see to began to replace fretting over Lorrine. It took time, weeks even, before she really began to care about something outside her own pain, but once she did, life finally took ahold of her again and made her feel better about being alive.

  And so, given how her life generally improved daily, it came as a complete and total shock when Kama's temper nearly caused a horrible accident.

  It started with a bad morning. Although few and far between, they still happened, those mornings where the pain and despair of losing Lorrine swept in on her like an evil tide. Everything about the day seemed destined to go wrong, from the tiny things like being unable to tie her boots properly, to the big things, like when she tripped over her own damned skirt and bashed her face into a doorframe. What a stupid move.

  Then one of her slower students came and asked her, for at least the thousandth time, how to get a knot stitch to stay a knot and not unravel. Kama looked at the girl in disbelief, while inside an intense coil of pure violence formed and gathered itself to strike. Kama felt it build, could hear it crackle around her, took a fierce joy in the sudden look of fear in the stupid girl's face.

  Then, before anything could happen, Kama remembered her promise to the Mother.

  "I'm sorry, Sara," she said, her voice sounding faint, strained, and distant to herself. "I'm having a miserable bad day. I think it's no good teaching today. Class dismissed. I'll be back tomorrow."

  Then Kama gathered up her desire to explode and fled, stumbling, tripping, and cursing her way to the Mother's rooms.

  "Mother!" she cried, banging on the door. "Mother! It's Kama. You said let you know if anything happened, well, it almost happened. Help me!"

  Nothing happened. No response came from within. Kama fought with her wild desire to blast the door into little splintery pieces, felt lightning crackling around the ends of her hair, felt terrified of her own desires. She sat on the floor, head down, and wrapped her arms around her head. Strange things happened inside her, wild surgings of energy and a deep need to destroy.

  "What is happening to me?" she asked her knees. Of course, they had no answer for her.

  Then, like a gift from the First Goddess herself, Kama heard a rustle of cloth and footsteps approaching. She looked up, and saw the Shrouded One gliding towards her, illuminated in her own golden light where it spilled through the small opening in the shroud.

  "Kama. I see your abilities have come upon you. Come into my rooms with me, and we shall begin your instruction."

  The calm words were an anodyne to Kama's frazzled nerves. The golden glow must have been some manifestation of power, because Kama felt a sort of protective cocoon wrap around her, insulating her from the rest of the world.

  The Shrouded One opened the door to her rooms, and Kama clambered awkwardly to her feet to follow her inside.

  "What is happening to me, Mother?"

  "Your Stormrider heritage has chosen this moment to come to life, and show you what you are capable of. The power I can see crackling through your hair at this very moment confirms my guess, that you are indeed the most powerful of Stormriders. When you are trained, you will have command over each of the elements, aside from Earth. Earth will hold you and shelter you, but it will never do your bi
dding, for its nature is opposite yours."

  "What? Why?" Kama flopped onto the settle she'd used before, then remembered whose rooms these were and organized herself to sit properly. She never flopped. What had gotten into her? Wanting to frighten a young girl, who wasn't really stupid, she just had a problem getting a knot stitch to hold. And walking around with a lightning storm in her hair. It felt like every strand stood straight on end. Good thing it was short now, otherwise she'd smack into the tops of doorframes. "Why me? Why now? And why did I feel so angry?"

  The Mother sighed. "That, Kama, is the root of why my people considered yours evil for so long."

  "Evil!"

  "Yes, evil. I must ask you something before I explain any further. Are you aware of the histories we followers of the First Goddess maintain?"

  Kama nodded impatiently. "Of course. Everyone in Eirian knows about those, surely?"

  "Perhaps, perhaps not. It is hardly something we advertise through the town crier. Now. You know of the archives, so please believe me when I tell you I have knowledge of Stormriders that has been long lost to the general public. There were four great families, and they held the lands that you now know as Shandar Province in a grip of iron. I will not go into the details of their rule, although my curiosity would dearly love to trace which family you descend from. Suffice it to say that these great families held the region for hundreds of annums through the abuse of power and the force of terror."

  "How?"

  "As I just said, I will not go into the loathsome details. But I believe their vileness was learned, not inborn. I truly believe that a good person, such as yourself, can overcome whatever evil is inherent in holding complete sway over four of the five elements. I know there is no evil in you. Yet. And, with your cooperation, we will seek to train you thoroughly and well, and keep you walking firmly on the side of the Light."

  "Forgive me, Mother, but I am completely confused. Again. How could I be. . . Look. I don't know what's going on here. All I know is that I feel filled with fury and the desire to inflict harm, and that is not good. How can I deal with this?"

  The Shrouded One sighed. "Relax, Kama. Just relax. Never mind the philosophy. Let's just begin with your new abilities. Now, I would like you to. . . "

  And so began Kama's first venture into the cloudy, uncertain world of magic. She'd never truly wanted to use magic before, so she had little desire to learn, but she had a great desire to get this horrible anger under control. Maybe her ancestors had turned evil out of necessity, for this rage she felt inside needed an outlet, and it was difficult to think of a peaceful use for the negative emotion. Which, of course, did nothing to ease her mind or heart, because Kama truly preferred peace and balance in her life, not chaos and strife.

  Reunion

  For two whole days, Lorrine found herself immersed in a crash course on how to be Dargasi. It was fascinating stuff, in some ways, learning about her heritage and the culture that she'd sprung from. But all the while, Lorrine itched and twitched inside, alone without her man.

  She also got herself into trouble, more than once. Selima thought her outlandish ways very entertaining, fortunately, so she didn't lose her only friend in this terrifically strange place, but that didn't help much with others. Evidently Dargasi women didn't ever swear, or speak out against a man, or actually do much of anything in public. Questions were frowned upon. So was speaking directly to a man. And wearing leather pants. She could actually go along with that, since it was so damned hot here in the desert that the heat even penetrated parts of Karr'at. She'd never been too big on dresses, but the loose, sleeveless gauze robes many of the women here favored served well in the heat.

  Of course, she wasn't supposed to wear those in view of the men. She'd noticed that when Selima, or anyone else, for that matter, went out of the women's apartments, they usually put on those overrobes, just like they'd dressed her in on her first night there, and most often veils as well. But she hadn't realized that was a cultural requirement.

  When her uncle Ranam summoned her, Lorrine all but tripped over her long, trailing skirt in her haste to go talk to him. He could get her back to Derfek! After all, he'd brought her here in the first place, he could get her the hell out. But someone, her aunt by marriage Karya, stopped her headlong rush with a hand on her arm.

  "No, Lorrine. We do not walk about in public in underwear."

  "Underwear? But—"

  "Underwear," Karya repeated firmly. "Niece, dress your cousin more appropriately."

  Selima rolled her eyes at Lorrine, showing her a different wardrobe than the one she'd found this particular robe in.

  "Sorry, I should have told you," Selima said, rummaging through a sea of drab overrobes. "Some of the older women insist that the only way to keep us safe is to hide us from the eyes of the men."

  "That may be true," Lorrine said, touching a turquoise robe, thinking of the rape of her mother. "How about this one?"

  "That will look fine with the pale orange you're wearing now. Okay, and a veil. . . Yellow. Color you bright, like a firebird."

  Lorrine laughed. "Sure. Why not? I may as well dress bright, since I don't feel all that bright in other ways. There's so much to learn about you people!"

  "You don't know the half of it," Selima said, settling the veil properly. "There. Now you're ready to face the world of men. Even if it is just my father."

  Lorrine thanked her and left the women's apartments, accompanied by the impatient messenger. The young boy led her to one of the marvelous surprises laced through the fortress, a room filled with light and life. Water walls trickled, keeping the air cool, and lush green plants grew in the light brought from outside by several light tubes, mirror-lined tunnels through the massive rocks that reached outside and gathered in the brilliant desert sunshine.

  "Lorrine! It is good to see you looking so well."

  "Thank you. Have you come to take me to Derfek?"

  Her uncle blinked and shifted a bit in surprise. "I have heard of your repeated requests. Yes, I ride to see my wife, and to resume my station with the border guards. You may accompany me if you wish."

  "Great! Let's go!"

  Ranam held up a hand. "Not so fast. You are not dressed for riding."

  "No, I'm not," Lorrine agreed, plucking at the outer robe distastefully. "This stuff is all right for inside, but it wouldn't do much good on horseback. But I haven't seen my own clothes since I arrived here."

  "No fear, you may use some of my wife's clothing. She has riding attire tucked away in our apartment. She will not mind. Arfel here will escort us, so none may accuse either of us of impropriety."

  Lorrine laughed. "Afraid they'll think incest runs in the family? No worries, Uncle. You're a good-looking man, and all, but I have my heart set on Derfek, and well you know it."

  The boy, Arfel, looked thoroughly shocked, but Ranam chuckled. "Come. It is early yet, but we should not waste any time. This way."

  In his apartment, Lorrine found clothing far more like what she used to wear in the outside world, a feminine version of the desert garb Ranam himself wore. Loose tunic and trousers, made of a heavier gauze than the dresses worn inside, and an overrobe with full sleeves and a hood. Much better. She still had her own boots, although she hadn't worn them inside. They passed by the unwed maidens' quarters so she could put them on, then headed out to the front entrance.

  The full force of the desert sun smacked Lorrine so hard she stopped in her tracks.

  Her uncle grinned at her reaction. "What's the matter, niece? Not fully accustomed to the land of your ancestors yet?"

  Lorrine rubbed her eyes, trying to ease away the sharp jabs of brilliance. "Not yet, it would seem. I do like the place, don't get me wrong, but staying inside all day every day does not prepare one for the sheer brilliance of the light outside."

  They mounted their horses. Lorrine's scruffy mutt horse looked odd, wearing its leather saddlery, while Ranam's horse stood naked and beautiful beside it.

  "How
do you do that?" Lorrine asked, after watching Ranam flow onto the horse's back like a waterfall going in reverse.

  "Do what? Mount?"

  "Yes. You have no saddle, no stirrups, no mounting block, and yet you're on top of the horse. It didn't even try to walk away on you. Why not?"

  "Training," Ranam shrugged. "Of both man and horse. I learned to ride before I could walk, as do most of us."

  "Even the women?"

  "Yes, even the women. Perhaps you have a slightly skewed notion of what our women's lives are like, after two days with the matrons and the maidens. Tell me, did you not notice there are few women of your own age about?"

  "Of course I noticed," Lorrine nodded as they rode into the desert at a slow jog. "That would be a difficult thing to miss, after all. Why?"

  "Many of our younger women, those who are old enough to marry but have not found a husband yet, spend their time out of Karr'at. They ride patrols with the border guard, they spend time visiting the outlying villages, they ride with the nomadic herder camps. . . You look remarkably stunned, niece."

  "I am stunned! Why was nothing said to me of this alternative to a life of—" stifling boredom! But she didn't say that aloud, merely waved an agitated hand back at the fortress where it crouched under its mountain of rock.

  Ranam chuckled. "You know so little of our culture. I would assume the women chose to start you learning from the beginning, not from the middle."

  "Well. They should have told me about the good part. It looked like women have little joy in this place. But riding the borders, traveling with nomads. . . These things are definitely worth doing, as opposed to sitting about complaining of the heat and the stupidity of men."

  "I always suspected women discussed such topics amongst themselves."

  Lorrine laughed. "Oh, have I let out a secret? Perhaps I should not have said that. But it is true. The women of Karr'at do indeed spend much time complaining about their menfolk."

  They rode through the morning heat, talking easily at first, then quieting as the heat increased in intensity. Lorrine felt good. She hadn't had a chance to relax, living amongst her female relatives. But now life was looking up. She had a spot in the stronghold the rest of the world would kill to enter, a family, although a strange one, and she rode to see her man. Even the sun, burning hot as it was, made her feel happier.