by Diana Rivers
“It is true and there is no one else of whom I would say that. There is much else she does as well or better than I do. She would be a fine woman, but for the bitterness that eats at her heart and sometimes blinds her vision. Hayika was even more ill-treated than I was, but that is hers to tell and not a story for such a fair morning.”
I bit my tongue to not reply to this. Rishka in such a fine mood was a rare thing, and I had no wish to spoil it. “You seem very happy today.”
She nodded with a dreamy look on her face. “My happiest times of childhood were here. I love this Drugha-Malia. There is something in this place...It even seemed to soften my father’s hard hand and perhaps his hard heart as well. The men would all meet together and talk for hours, telling stories and trading horses. The women would gather to play games of padjic or toss the pebbles. We children would be forgotten, free to pay and explore and go our own ways. Yes, there surely is some magic here. Look at our captain.”
I turned where she pointed. Pell and Tamara were strolling arm in arm further down the stream, Tama leaning against Pell and Pell bending to say something in her ear. So they had found each other again. I felt a sudden rush of happiness for them both.
“Come,” Rishka said, tugging on my hand. “There is something I have been waiting to show you.”
“But I have not yet eaten,” I said plaintively. With all my riding back and forth, I felt as if I had not eaten for days. The smell of porridge was wafting up from the cookfires, rich and enticing.
“It will wait,” she said, impetuously pulling me to my feet. “We should climb up there before it gets any hotter. I have some trail bread for you here in my pouch.” She bent, and all in one motion twisted my bedding and dropped it around her shoulders. “Here, I will take your bedroll for you. Leave your pack. We will come back for it later.”
Leaning on Rishka’s arm for support, I struggled into my boots. I did not even bother with my pants but left them by my pack. Wearing only my boots and tunic and munching on stale trail bread, I followed where she lead. We walked rapidly downstream away from camp till we came to a crevice in the rock face.
“This is my own secret place that we are going to. I have never shown it to anyone before.”
“We are going up that?” My heart sank and blood began pounding in my ears. I looked up and up that shear rock face. It was like Pell’s climb all over again, only now I would be the one doing it and with no rope.
“It is easy. Just slip inside the crevice. There are deep hand and foot holes carved there. I think others used this place before the Muinyairin—the Ashara perhaps. Perhaps it is the ‘First People’ who cut those steps.” Saying that she wedged herself into the crevice and began scrambling up in front of me with little effort till she vanished in the shadows above. She was right. Once I squirmed in after her I had no trouble following. As if made for much smaller people, there was a little secret stair cleverly concealed there. Much sooner than I expected we came out on a wide ledge that went along the bluff face for a ways and was almost as flat underfoot as a floor.
I looked out and gave a gasp of surprise. The view from there made me dizzy. I could see the stream below flashing blue and silver in the sun with our whole busy camp laid out along it. Opposite me the bluff rose steep and shear with its bands of warm sunset colors. Above the bluff stretched the wide expanse of drylands we had crossed, lying soft and golden in the sun. Way beyond, on the edge of the horizon, lay a dark line that must have been the beginnings of the hills and woods we had ridden through.
“This is where I used to come when I wanted to escape notice and still be able to watch everything.” She shrugged off my bedroll and reached out her hand. “Come...” she said, beckoning me.
Together we crawled to the very edge and lay on our bellies, looking straight down. The whole camp was visible from that vantage, even the part that lay past the far bend of the stream where the canyon widened out into a grassy bowl and the horses were grazing.
It was easy to see the Drugha-Malia was having its effect. Not only were Pell and Tamara strolling together, I could also see Lhiri and Nunyair lying in each other’s arms by the stream and directly below us I glimpsed Murghanth and Teko tangled in a passionate embrace, no doubt thinking themselves private behind some willow shrubs. I started to pull back embarrassed, but Rishka pressed a restraining hand in the middle of my back to hold me down and whispered in my ear, “It does not matter. In the Eyes of the Mother all things are sacred.” Then she began running her fingers up and down my bare legs and I forgot about the others. “I used to come up here to play with myself,” she breathed softly in my ears. “But it is so much more pleasurable to play with another.”
Now she was caressing the back of my neck, now her hand was creeping down my back, sliding ever so slowly to lodge between my legs, spreading me out gradually in the sun. Soon I found myself pressing back insistently against that hand that was turning its bony hardness against my soft flesh, grinding with torturous pleasure. Suddenly she pulled away saying, “Wait, now. Do not leave.”
Leave? I had no thought of leaving. I could not even move. I heard Rishka rustling behind me. “Now,” she said in a commanding way and reached down to turn me over onto my sleep roll, shifting me safely away from the edge and spreading me out face up in the sun. She stood for a moment looking down, then knelt beside me, pulled a feather from her hair and began to stroke me with it. A little line of chill followed each stroke, and then sweat broke out all along that line. I wanted to watch her, but had to shut my eyes against the sun. The darkness under my eyelids bloomed red and orange. “We should cover your eyes,” she said in a voice full of concern. I sensed something else under her words that made me shiver. “Here, help me, stretch up your arms.” I did as she said. She slipped my tunic up till it was over my face, then she did something with it so that my arms were imprisoned in the sleeves and my face covered.
“Rishka, please, help free me of this,” I mumbled from the confine of the fabric.
“No, no, that does very well for now. It shades your eyes and keeps your hands out of my way. Just do as I tell you. You have only to lie still. You look very fine spread out there in the sun, a gift from the Drugha-Malia herself, just what I dreamed of when I was young and came here alone.”
I tried to move my arms, but somehow she had me helpless. Softened by the heat I lay back under her hands. She spread my legs wider, raised my knees slightly and opened my cunt to the sun. The heat flowed into my body. Sweat ran from me in lines of cold. She stroked her feather across my nipples that rose to meet her, then down my belly, up the inside of my legs and finally across my cunt. With a groan I tried to close my legs around that teasing feather, but she forced me open again with the pressure of her hands.
“Slowly, slowly, not so soon. Let the sun do its work.”
Sweat was pouring off my body now and trickling down between my legs. The sun was blazing like fire and at the same time a light breeze ran its chill across my skin. “Please, Rishka,” I found myself begging, “Please,” but my voice was muffled by the tunic across my face.
Suddenly Rishka’s whole body slid over mine, her leg between my legs, giving relief. “Is this what you want, Tazzi?” she asked, pressing hard with her knee. She was as wet with sweat as I was. It was as if we were melting together. The whole world had turned red and orange. She pushed back the tunic so that her mouth found mine, biting all along the edge of my lips till my mouth was burning. Then she turned the other way and slid her face between my legs, her mouth on me cool and hot and soft and violent by turns. Then she opened me to the sun again, peeling me open with her fingers. Then her mouth was on me again, wet and soft, then the sun again with all its power till I could not tell if it was Rishka who made love to me there or the great Drugha-Malia herself. When I started to cry out, she slipped her hand under the tunic to cover my mouth, and I thrashed against her hold. When I had finally stilled she slipped the tunic up over my head to free my arms. “Sorry to st
ill your cry, but I could not let you give away my secret place.” She held up her palm in front of me so I could see the teeth marks there. I reached for her. “No,” she said quickly, jumping to her feet. “The sun has grown too hot now.”
We pulled my sleep-roll back into the shade of the overhang and sat for a moment side by side, breathing hard, our bodies wet and glistening. Suddenly Rishka said with a glint of mischief, “Well, Tazzi, do you think you can do better?” Without a word I turned to her, put a hand on each breast and pushed her down, covering her body with mine and covering her mouth. I made love to her there in the cool shadows, then we dozed till the sun found us, then we made love to each other again, rolling in and out of sun and shadow, then we dozed again until we were wakened much later by someone beating the pot.
We had just scrambled down from our secret aerie; I had put on my pants and picked up my pack. Arm in arm we were strolling toward the cook fires and the savory smell of food when Ashai rushed up to me saying breathlessly, “Tazzi, Tazzi, I am so glad to see you. I have been searching for you everywhere. Pell sent me to fetch you for a meeting of the chiefs. Where have you been? What have you been doing all this time?”
I gave Rishka a wicked grin. With no hesitancy at all she said, “Feasting on each other’s bodies all day in my secret place.”
Poor Ashai. She blushed to the roots of her hair, her very white skin taking on a lovely sunset glow. Clearly she had not found anyone to enjoy the day with.
Rishka bent and gave me a quick nip on the neck saying, “Till later, Tazzi.” Then she went striding off in the direction of dinner, whistling through her teeth, while I followed Ashai along a narrow pathway at the base of the bluff. Ashai walked ahead, not looking back at me and barely answering my questions with a mumble. It occurred to me then that I should have given Rishka my bowl and told her to save me some dinner. Ah well, I was now missing my third meal, but as Rishka said, we had been feasting all day.
After my first few attempts at speech were rebuffed, I went in silence, enjoying the glorious sensations in my body, the sounds of the water, the colors of the flowers and their sweet pervasive scent. Some women had already gone to eat or were walking in that direction, but many were still lying on the grassy banks of the river, resting or talking or caressing each other, half dressed or altogether naked. I think I had never seen the star-cursed look so at ease. It was almost as if we had a place in the world, as if, for that moment at least, we were not every man’s lawful prey.
Ashai and I were walking rapidly upstream, and soon the camp began to thin. Ahead I could see the place where a spring gushed out of the rock face, clearly the spring that fed our stream. Mounds of moss and ferns clung to the rock below the water and surrounded the little pool that formed at its base. A semi-circle of women sat there in silence, their fingers barely touching. Among them I saw Lhiri and Maireth and Tamara. Women of “the Circle” I thought as I touched my own pendant. Source. The word came to me and filled me with a joyous wonder, yet I was sure I had not heard it spoken aloud. Source. I stopped for a moment, drinking in the peace of that place. Not hearing me behind her, Ashai turned back. “Come quickly,” she snapped impatiently. “I have already been too long in search of you.” I think her embarrassment made her sharp with me. One of the women of the circle, a stranger to me, looked up at this disturbance and I moved on hurriedly.
The meeting was being held away from the tumult of the camp, in a little hollow in the bluff overhead, a small natural room carved in the living stone by years of waters. Ashai silently pointed the way, then turned and left me. I went up the few steps to the entrance and they all turned to look at me. Clearly the meeting was already finished. Everyone was sitting back smoking jol so that the little chamber was blue with smoke and thick with its heavy aroma.
Pell grinned at me and said jovially, “Well here is Tazzi, my second-in-command, who has been somewhere mysterious all day, and from the look of her has clearly been minding something besides camp business.” This was met by howls of laughter all round. “Glad you could join us,” she made a little bow of her head. “Though, as you can see, our meeting is already done.”
One of those women, a Muinyairin by the look of her, said to Pell with a wink, “Well, we must not be too hard on her. The Drugha-Malia has powerful magic, as you yourself should know.” She gave Pell another broad wink, and the other women laughed again. Then she turned to me. “I only want to know how you hid from us so well. I thought I knew all the little secret places here.” This was followed by more laughter.
Now it was my turn to blush. I could feel the heat rushing up from my toes to my scalp. If they said one more word in that direction I thought I would catch fire on the spot. I could not look any of them in the eye. To my relief Pell beckoned me over. “Come, Tazzi, you are not the only one. None of us is immune to her charms. Have you had any food yet?”
I shook my head. They gathered up what was left in their bowls. When all their leavings were put together, I had at least a semblance of a meal, enough to keep my stomach from leaning on my backbone. With a bowl in hand I was able to recover some composure and look around me. From among us, Kazouri was there and Zenoria and Renaise. I was told that the thin, dark, somber women to my left was Permeeth, the leader of the northern gathering. Mouraine, the startling-looking woman with dark skin and hair fair as golden grain, was the southern leader, and Shartell, the Muinyairin who had first spoken to me, had been captain of Yaniri’s encampment.
As I ate my little dinner, they told me, between puffs of jol, the plan they had finally settled on. It was simple enough, though it had probably taken some heated talk before they could all agree. That plan was to move on and keep moving, to push forward as long as we were on the Zarn’s highroad, hoping to outrun the guards and vanish altogether. This past night had been our last camp, our last full night of sleep for a while. From now on we would only stop when we needed to rest the horses. I nodded silently to everything they said. It seemed a good enough plan. I could find no fault with it, but my bones already ached with weariness at the thought of what lay ahead.
A few day’s ride from there we were to find a turnoff and head northwest on a winding road through the hills to a sheltered secret valley. This valley was sometimes used as a Wanderer encampment and would be large enough, they told me, to feed all our horses, at least for a while. That was to be our final gathering place before heading straight west to the sea and the hot-spring caves that were to be our winter home.
At the head of the line of march, they went on to inform me, there was always to be the leader of one group and at least the second of another. Clearly, it was important that we know one another. As soon as I finished eating, I set down my bowl and went around the circle, touching each woman’s hand, looking into her face and saying her name so this time I would remember. When I passed Kazouri she gave me a huge grin and wink so that I blushed all over again. Finished, I sat back down next to Pell. The jol smoke and the murmur of talk made me drowsy. Suddenly the pot was banging again, and Pell was shaking my shoulder. “Time to break camp,” Kazouri shouted, jumping to her feet.
“Nice to know we are so entertaining,” Pell muttered in my ear as we scrambled out of the rock chamber.
I was glad to see Rishka coming to meet me with my pack and bedroll, but when she pulled me into an embrace and began kissing the back of my neck, I freed myself, pushing her gently away. “I think I had better go and make myself useful. I am already the cause of enough talk.”
“I promise I could show you a far better time,” she said with a mischievous laugh. When I shook my head she ran off to join Zari and Zenoria and the others who were just then bringing in the horses for loading.
Feeling guilty for my day’s absence, I went to help Renaise pack our part of the camp. I found the Sheezerti already hard at work there. Murghanth stepped aside to make room for me, saying in a knowing, teasing tone, “Well how was your day, Tazzi? Did the Great Malia treat you well?”
&n
bsp; “No better than she treated you,” I said, looking her right in the eye with meaning. For a moment she looked flustered and her eyes went wide. Then she quickly recovered herself and nodded. “Well, you must have been sharing the nest of a hawk if you saw that,” she said with a grin as she reached for a sack of grain. I helped her on the other side, and together we settled the sack into a basket pack.
“Not far from the truth,” I mumbled. “Not far from the truth.”
***
The sun was casting long shadows behind us when our many-legged snake gathered itself up and wound its way out of the canyon. We rode into a sunset of spectacular beauty with more than half the drylands yet to cross. Even that late in the day, the sands were hot underfoot.
Not long after night’s fall we were back at the Zarn’s great paved road that stretched straight as a tight-drawn string across the drylands. We followed it for guidance, but kept to the side to spare our horses’ hooves while we could. I placed myself in the middle of the press and rode asleep on my horse for most of the night, hoping that someone somewhere kept watch. Early next morning Pell rode back and tapped me on the shoulder. “My turn to sleep and yours to watch,” she told me.
I worked my way up to the front of the line and found Permeeth there, hunched over her horse, staring glumly across the vast expanse of drylands that stretched endlessly before us. My first few tries at speech were met with one word answers, so I was glad when Murghanth rode up next to me to keep me company, Murghanth who herself had been a stranger such a short while ago. I saw how awkwardly she sat her horse and thought how painful this endless riding must be for her. She must have caught my glance or my thought for she asked quickly. “Do you think I will ever learn, Tazzi? I find myself being clumsy at those many things you do so easily, not a feeling I am used to. In Eezore I was always the agile, clever one. Now I so often feel I am the fool. It is hard not to hate myself.” She said this last with such vehemence it startled me.
