"So what do we do?" Daneh asked. "I guess as the local doctor, and a female no less, it's my job to organize this?"
"It would be, but you can't do it," Edmund sighed. "And the one thing that I know about. rape trauma is that handling it wrong just makes the person worse."
"Which just annoys the crap out of me!" she practically shouted. "Edmund, I'm fine! Fine, fine, FINE! How much more pointed do I have to make it!"
He worked his jaw for a moment and looked at her evenly until she looked away. "And shouting at me when I'm discussing something that's obviously a problem for the whole town is normal?" he asked evenly.
Edmund wasn't sure what he had said to cause her to go as white as a sheet, but he paused and let her regain her equilibrium.
"What?" he asked, finally.
"Just. tone." she whispered. "I'm going to go take a bath, now."
"Okay," he said with a sigh as she left the room. There had to be someone for her to talk to. But who?
* * *
Herzer watched in reverent awe as Bast came up out of the stream. Her body was just as perfect naked as it had appeared to be half naked. She had light pink aureoles and nipples which, when she was excited or cold, as she was now, crinkled up and poked out like daggers, and a tiny tuft of jet black pubic hair that had turned out to be as soft as silk. For just a moment the queasy thought crossed his mind that she looked far too young to be sexually active, more like a fourteen-year-old than an adult female. But then he told himself he was stupid; she wasn't just older than he was, she was older than the trees.
They had started off with swimming, naked as he'd been warned and he had been a tad. apprehensive. But the swimming had changed to washing and then mutual washing and things had proceeded from there. And the proceeding had been quite an education for all its brevity. He still didn't know why she had chosen him, but he realized that he was the one luckiest guy in the world.
That caused him to flash for a moment on all the reasons he shouldn't be the luckiest man in the world and he swallowed hard. For a moment he was caught in an emotional vice between fear that she would no longer care for him if she knew both his internal struggles and of his cowardice and shame that he should be here, with her, after both.
She had brought along a fur blanket, a patchwork quilt of many small skins, and she now lowered herself gracefully onto it in a cross-legged seat then started pulling the tangles out of her hair with a twig. Looking off into the woods.
She was within easy arm's reach so despite his qualms he carefully ran one finger up her thigh.
"The wonder of young humans," she said with a smile, looking downward. "Give them five minutes and they're ready to go again!"
"Is that why you picked me?" he asked. He hadn't wanted to ask but it had been nagging at him.
"Only in part," she replied, rubbing his hand in welcome. "You seemed to be. wise for your age. That is important. I'm old, Herzer. Many of my kind think that I'm. perverse to take human lovers. Even if you live through the wars that will come, I will see you age and mature, as I have watched Talbot age and mature. And then some day you will die, as I have seen countless lovers age and die. But you live your lives, fully in the now in a way that elves do not. And that I love. But in time I will take other lovers, as you will take other lovers. And you seemed wise enough to understand that, as other humans might not."
"I'm not wise," Herzer said bitterly. The compliment had just made his internal turmoil more vigorous and he felt as if bile from self-loathing was going to rise in his throat.
"I said 'for your age,' " she replied, touching him on the top of his lowered head. "Look at me, Herzer."
He looked up into her cat-pupiled green eyes and cringed at the depth of knowledge behind them. It felt for a moment as if she was looking into his very soul. But at the same time, it felt as if even when she saw what was there, she felt no loathing. There was a depth of understanding in those ancient eyes.
"It is said that everyone has one secret. This is not true," she said quietly. "Everyone has many secrets, many faces, many masks. All humans, and dwarves and elves, are the sum of their masks, young Herzer. You are young, yet, and your masks have many rough edges. And you do not see that this is the case of everyone. It is what you do in life, not what torments you in your soul, that matters. And who you are in life, not who you fear you might become."
"And what if you have done something wrong?" Herzer asked, looking down.
"Did you cause others harm?" she asked, gently.
"No. But through my inaction, harm occurred," he said, carefully.
She sighed and shook her head. "Herzer, I'm your lover, not your priest. I'm not here to take your confession and I'm the wrong sex, the wrong species and the wrong religion to give you absolution!" she chuckled.
"What's a priest?" Herzer asked.
"Oh, my, sometimes I realize just how old I am!" she cried, laughing. "My fair knight, unshorn, unvigiled and unshriven. My, how times have changed. Say that priests were an early form of psychological therapy. You could talk to them and nothing that you said, supposedly, could be passed on to others. So you could unburden your soul. Then, under the laws of their religion, they could tell you to do some prayers and chores, maybe pay money, and their God would forgive you."
"Sounds like a racket," Herzer said, interested in spite of himself.
"So was psychotherapy and just like priests they would tell you to come back weekly. But in the case of psychologists, until they started to understand the chemical basis of depression and other psychological problems, they couldn't make people feel as good as priests could. Which was, generally, worth the money. Let me ask you this, if, right now, you could tell someone all sorts of things that are bothering you and then they would tell you that you were forgiven if you did some task and you believed you were forgiven, absolutely, would you do that task?"
Herzer thought about it for a moment and then nodded his head. "Oh, yes. If it would. well, yes. But it couldn't undo what was done."
"No, but it could make you feel better about it. That was what the quests were often about to begin with. The concept of 'geas' was a binding requirement to attempt a task and either succeed or die in the attempt. In either case they were forgiven. But if they did not succeed and gave up, when the knight died they would burn in hell."
"Ouch," Herzer said. "That's not the way it is in the games."
"No, but something to understand is that the people of that time, by and large, believed in the truth of confession. Just as many in later times believed that having someone tell them it wasn't their fault but the fault of bad potty training made things better. And in both cases, because what was going on was entirely in the person's head, most people ended up feeling better."
"So where do I sign up?" Herzer asked, grumpily.
"Oh, Herzer," Bast laughed. "I don't know of a single remaining Catholic priest in eastern Norau. So I think you might be out of luck, there. But I will give you this much to cling to: although there are some actions in life that are unforgivable, I refuse to believe you have done any of them."
"But."
"Hush, my love. Have you killed someone in anger rather than defense?"
"No, but."
"Have you committed rape?" she asked, carefully.
"No," Herzer said, after a long pause.
"Hmm. we come close to the boil there I think," she replied. "And I'm not one to lance it. But that 'No' was definite enough for me. I suspect I know what part of your problem is and while I'm no psychologist, what I don't know about kinky sex hasn't been discovered."
"What?" Herzer laughed.
"I'm simply going to have to show you what's what in the area of rough sex," she answered, looking at his eyes. "Let me guess, rape fantasies, right?"
"Uh," Herzer said, blushing furiously. "Bast!"
"Little girls?"
"Bast!!"
"Whips and chains? Little Riding Hood?"
"BAST!!!"
"All tot
ally normal," she replied, suddenly serious. "Many men want to be the Big Bad Wolf. And that is okay. As long as you know how, when and where to do what. And that, me bucko, is what you're about to learn."
"You're joking," he said, looking at the fur blanket and stroking a piece of white ermine nervously.
"Not hardly. I can't believe in this day and age you're going around all screwed up about dominance fantasies." The elf snorted. "I'll admit that I'm not fetished that way but I know the moves and enjoy it from time to time." Suddenly she smiled shyly and dropped her chin so she was looking up at him out of the side of her eyes, clasping her hands to her chest. "Oh, sir, you're so big and strong," she said girlishly, then smiled innocently out of big round eyes. "I'm just a little lost. Do you think you could lead me through the woods?"
Herzer blushed bright red again as his member made it clear that she had hit the bullseye.
Suddenly she took his chin and faced him with total seriousness.
"Look at me, Herzer Herrick. It is not what you feel that makes you evil. Those feelings are natural. Perhaps, someday, I will explore the why to that. But for now, know that. They are as natural as breathing. It is what you do with them that decides if you are a villain or a hero. Let me ask you, and look me in the eye when you answer. If you found such a girl, young, nubile, all alone and lost in the woods, what would you do?"
Herzer looked at her for a long moment, a muscle in his chin working, fighting not to drop his eyes.
"I'd lead her back to town," he said, finally, with a slight sigh that might have been regret.
"Aye, and give your life in her defense methinks," Bast answered. "Whatever your past failings."
"I couldn't do anything!" he said.
"Shhhh," Bast replied, laying her fingers against his lips. "And that is the other side. A hurt, once made, cannot be unmade. But they heal, in time. Most anyway. In your case, the hurt, too, will mostly heal. But what will bind the wound and reduce the scar tissue is what you do, Herzer Herrick. But you know that, don't you?"
"Yes," he replied, looking at the carpet again.
"Then let us do," she replied seriously then smiled. "From the looks of things, I'm going to be busy. You have had a hard journey, are you sure you're up to it?" She winked at him and covered her chest modestly, widening her eyes again. "Oh, sir! I was just bathing and I can't find my clothes!"
"For you milady," he said looking up with a gleam of tears in his eyes, "who is young as the air even if you are old as the trees, I will always be up to it!"
"So I see!" she said with a laugh. "And so gallant! Let's see how long we can make it last this time, fair knight!" She picked up a scrap of towel, placing it over her chest and looking at him with a hint of fear in her eyes. "Please, sir, I'm all alone and you're so big!"
"The Belle Dame Sans Merci!" Herzer groaned.
"Oh, you've heard of me," she chuckled throatily. And then there was no more talk.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Daneh had stayed in the kitchen puttering with herbs. She knew that some of them had healing properties, but not which and in what proportions. Some of Edmund's books had marginal notes on them, though, so she had gotten the few available and had been grinding sorrel when Sheida appeared.
"Daneh," Sheida said from the doorway.
The mortar and pestle flew across the room, the pestle cracking in two against the hard stone wall, as Daneh practically jumped out of her skin. "Don't do that!"
"I'm sorry," the avatar replied. "I didn't think."
"Well sorry doesn't cut it, Sis," Daneh replied, bitterly.
"Well, I am," Sheida said. "If I'd suspected it would. come apart so fast I would have. done more."
"Thanks for nothing, Sister," Daneh snarled. "All you would have had to do was set a damned avatar looking for me. Was that too much to ask?"
The avatar sighed and shook her head. "In retrospect, no. But at the time I was. rather busy. And, as I said, I didn't expect lawlessness to break out so fast. Humans are so."
"Sick," Daneh said. "We're beasts inside, Sis, that's something you never realized. Or at least never internalized. I don't know that I did until I met McCanoc."
"Well, I'm getting a lesson in it worldwide," Sheida replied. "There are four thousand three hundred and twenty reported rapes just in the towns that are reporting to me. And in the ones that aren't. the conditions in some of them are. I don't know some days, Daneh. Sometimes I think we should just give in to Paul, given what the world is like today. Being a woman in this world is."
"What women survived for millennia," Daneh replied. "And don't come crying to me about your problems, I guarantee that you don't wake up nights in a cold sweat seeing McCanoc's face in front of you. Or worse."
Sheida paused for a moment then shrugged. "Daneh, I can. how to put it. This can go away for you. No more nightmares."
Daneh thought about it for a moment then shook her head. "Can you do it for all of them?"
"In time, perhaps," Sheida said after a moment. "It doesn't take much more power than simply talking like this."
"No," Daneh said after a moment. "No, that's not the answer. I'm fine, really, except for the nightmares. And they'll go away. They have to," she trailed off.
"You need to talk about it," Sheida said. "I've. accessed some very old texts. Rape is as forgotten as."
"Everything else," Daneh nodded. "Rape and economic and sexual domination. We were shielded from it for so long. 'Machines freed women and computers empowered them.' But it's all back and in a way it's all of a piece. Take away the technology and women are nothing but pawns to the males. We have to find a way to deal with it now and in this world. Not patchwork in the old world."
"Then find someone to talk to."
"That's what everyone keeps saying, except the women who went through it. And we don't want to talk about it, thank you. Especially to family, Sis."
"That's. what the texts said you'd say. But they also are definite. You need to talk about it, to get out the. bad thoughts and find out what is real in you and what is an effect of the rape."
"I don't suppose you can get some of these texts to me?" Daneh said sourly.
"Not yet, soon maybe," Sheida said. "Sending an avatar is one thing; teleporting texts or even items that can receive updates is another. We're on the thin edge of losing right now. If we can just get some breathing room, maybe then."
"Well until then, thank you but no thank you. I'll just put up with the nightmares. And 'get back on the horse.' "
"Be careful with that," Sheida said. "You'll probably have some ugly flashbacks. And other things." Sheida paused and shook her head. "You're right. There's things I don't want to talk to you about. Just. be careful. Everything that happens may not be. natural. Damnit, in that whole camp of historical idiots there has to be someone that has studied rape! It was a natural feature of all that wonderful history they love so much!"
"The only ones that might have are Edmund and maybe a guy named Gunny," Daneh said. "And I don't care to talk to either of them about it, thank you very much."
"You're being very stubborn about this, Sister dear," Sheida said.
"I'm a Ghorbani," Daneh said with a faint smile.
Sheida started to say something then looked startled. "I have to go. Talk to someone, damnit!"
"Good bye, Sheida," Daneh said.
"Bye."
Daneh took a deep breath after Sheida left and thought about the roster of people in Raven's Mill. "Damn, she's right" she muttered then walked to a cupboard and took out a bottle of brandy. She looked at the cups and then shook her head and took a deep pull from the bottle. "I can't believe that I'm going to do this."
She looked at the door and then pulled a cloak down against the evening chill and went walking out the door. She had an idea who to talk to. Now to find her.
* * *
McGibbon had just drawn a bead on the lead doe of the herd when he froze at a flash of white out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't figu
re out what the patch was until it moved again and then he identified it; it was that damned cat of Rachel's.
He'd been stalking the herd of deer for the last half hour. Stalking was a highly skilled art but he'd been practicing for nearly fifty years and it was second nature to him at this point. The first part was finding the quarry, which was a matter of moving through the woods as if he was a deer himself. That required moving a few steps then pausing and actually making a bit of noise. If you tried to move absolutely silently it was impossible. So you had to move as if you were a foraging animal. A few steps. A movement of a foot. Watch, listen, smell, then move on.
John Ringo - Council Wars 01 - There Will Be Dragons Page 27
