The Shore of Women (46 page)
He lifted my knees and knelt between my legs. I felt the tip of his penis on my cleft. “If you feel pain, I will stop,” he whispered, although I wondered if he could, if his own desire might already be too great. He rubbed against me some more; his tip pushed against me. “Do you feel pain now?”
I shook my head. I could not have deceived him; everything in me was aching for release by then. He cupped my buttocks and continued to thrust gently, moving a little deeper inside me each time, and then entered me fully with one final thrust.
I cried out as he fell across me; this time, I felt pain. I twisted against him as his thrusts came more rapidly, but as he moved inside me, my pain was transforming itself, becoming a burning ache. At last he cried out, and my own cry answered his as my pleasure mingled with the pain.
He slipped from me. Our bodies were drenched with sweat. He sighed as he held me. He had done this thing, had given me some pleasure with it, something I had not expected, something I had thought impossible. This was not the same pleasure his hands and tongue had given, but I had responded even to this.
He leaned over me for a moment and then drew back. “I’ve hurt you,” he said. “There is a little blood on the hide. Have I done something wrong?”
“No, Arvil.”
“Has your time come to bleed?”
“No, it isn’t that, only a small obstruction inside me that’s now been broken. You won’t make me bleed again.”
He rested his head on my chest as I stroked his hair. “You are not a spirit-woman,” he murmured. “With them, a man can thrust without fear. With you, I must be gentler, as a kind man would be with a younger one who has not yet known love. But this is different from what I felt with the spirit-women. They were more like creatures in a dream, but this was real, with you, and that makes it better. I’ll make it better still.” He slipped one arm under my waist. “And for you, Birana—what was it for you?”
“I can’t say. There was some pain, but pleasure too.” I did not know what else to tell him; this was still too new to me. I had taken pleasure with a man in a way that had not existed for centuries, in a way that had died out long ago. I saw now why women had separated themselves from this act, how the need for it could enslave a woman and rob her of her reason. The act itself was foolish and dangerous. To love a woman exposed one to no dangers except the chance that one’s heart might be broken; to love a man meant embarking on a journey with an uncertain end. There was the chance of a child if I were not cautious, and Yerlan and his men might learn somehow of what we had done. But even the thought of those dangers was not enough to make me want to give it up.
Arvil’s hand moved over my abdomen, and then lower, and I forgot everything except the sensations he was reawakening in me.
Thoughts of Arvil distracted me for the rest of the day. I made an effort to listen to Tulan as we paddled the boat around the bay, but my mind was elsewhere, and I scarcely heard what he said. When I swam with Nallei that evening, I remembered how Arvil’s body had looked when he emerged from the water.
That night, while Nallei slept, I went out to the place under the trees where I knew I would find Arvil. This time, he showed me something else he had experienced with the mindspeaker images. I learned that I could kneel, my legs on either side of him, that I could guide him into me and feel more pleasure in that way.
As we lay under the trees, my hands searched his body, coming to know him better. There was a small scar near his left shoulder, the legacy of a boyhood fight; another scar marked his right thigh. I found that he delighted in feeling my thumbs against his nipples and welcomed my touch along the soft downy region between his thigh and groin.
“I thought of this all afternoon,” he said. “I thought of it while you were with Tulan.”
“I thought of it, too.”
“I wonder if I can ever stop thinking of it.”
I raised myself on one elbow. “We must be even more careful now. We may not be able to…”
He touched one finger to my lips. “We must find a way. I’ll be sent here again. There may be other places away from the camp where we can go.”
I climbed back to my hut reluctantly, wondering how I would bear it when he left the island. As I pulled the hide over the door aside, I saw that Nallei was awake, sitting by the fire.
“You know what has happened,” I said as I sat down next to her.
“I know. Is this the end of what’s between you, or the beginning?”
“I can’t imagine it ending now.” I rested my head on my knees. “When I’m with him, he’s all there is for me, and when I leave him, I feel it’s a madness, a disease of the mind. I never felt this way about anyone except one other.” I paused; it was still hard to speak of Laissa, who had drawn away from me, who had wanted me dead. “Arvil looks like her. I think they had the same mother and father. The resemblance was why I felt more sympathy for him at first, but now…” I shook my head. “His sister never loved me. I never told her how I felt.”
“We are more malleable than we realize,” Nallei said. “Why wouldn’t we come to love women in the cities? There is no one else to love. In ancient times, there were women who loved only other women, and men who loved men, but it was they who thought they had a disease of the mind. I know something of the past; I have read about it.” This was the closest Nallei had come to speaking of her former life. “Sometimes it seems as if we insist on creating worlds in which some kinds of love are accepted and honored, while others are despised. We chose our way long ago partly because we believed the kinds of love sanctioned in the past, those that bound us to men, helped to bring about the Destruction and made us powerless to protest what men had done. I have had some doubt about that. Perhaps there simply wasn’t enough love among those people for others. Perhaps if they had been free to love whomever they chose, to open their hearts willingly to anyone who might love them, and to let this love grow to encompass everyone in some way, they might have found a way to avoid the destruction of others they loved. Perhaps by denying certain kinds of love, they warped their ability to love anyone truly or to love the earth that they nearly destroyed. At the very least, I can’t see how accepting all the ways one might love and any partner one might choose could have added to the horror of what they did.”
I wondered if Nallei had spoken such thoughts to others in her city, if this, as much as any crime, had been responsible for her expulsion.
“If you and that young man had denied the capacity that was in you,” she continued, “perhaps you would only have poisoned yourselves, twisted your love into something else. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one to love you, but that capacity has died in me—it would have been easier for us both if it hadn’t. But you have another kind of love now, and you mustn’t torment yourself about the rightness of it. I fear you may suffer enough without that guilt.”
She covered my hand with hers. “Be careful, Birana. There are risks with this love, as you know. You can’t grow reckless now. I wouldn’t want to lose you and be alone here again, but I almost think it might be better if you and Arvil left this camp.”
“I couldn’t leave you here alone. I won’t leave you, Nallei.” If we left, I would have to find a way to take her with us. But the thought of escape was already far from my mind; I would think of that later. For now, I was safe enough here. I would be careful, would take no chances. It was easier to think this away from Arvil, easier to forget that when I was with him only those moments at his side mattered.
ARVIL
I had longed for Birana, yet even with what the spirit-women had shown me, I had not known what to expect. The aspects in the shrine and the enclave had felt like women of flesh and bone, but they had been ghosts without names, only bodies to arouse and then satisfy me.
I had seen Birana in that way at first, as one who might grant me blessings but who in every other way was apart from me. Instead, her soul had reached out to mine.
She was like the spirit-women and yet unlike them. With her, there was the smoothness of her skin and the curves of her body, but also an uncertain groping, the awkwardness of a fearful soul, the sweat and smell and salty taste of her. The spirit-women were beings who vanished when I was sated, while Birana remained to rest with me and to rouse me again. I remembered the look of her dark hair spread out on the mat, the rosy glow of her face after I loved her. Even my uncertainty with her and the need to give her a more prolonged pleasure that spirit-women did not seek added to my longing.
After our first time on the island, Birana went to the camp to sit alone with Yerlan in the clearing and listen to his tales. Although I had told her it would be wise to show him such favor, I felt anger when they sat together but swallowed my rage. Yerlan was pleased by her growing friendliness toward him. He soon learned that each time he sent Tulan and me to the island, Birana would come to him and listen to his talk.
That fall was marked by the harvest of what remained in the gardens and by a great hunt. All in the camp were busy with butchering deer, drying fish, smoking our meat, curing hides, storing the food we would need for the winter, and patching spaces between the logs of our dwellings with mud and clay.
Birana and Nallei did what they could to aid the camp. With some of the boys, they gathered nuts and acorns and learned how to dig up roots. Birana was not skilled enough with her weapons to hunt, but she followed the hunters on horseback and showed them how a conveyance of wood and hide might be made for each horse to pull; on these litters, she was able to bring game back to the camp. I had worried about how we might feed the horses during the winter, but the band had seen their usefulness. Along with our own food, we stored much dry grass and some wild grains for the beasts. We would feed them what we could; if they grew weak, they could provide us with meat.
Birana had grown more beautiful. Her skin was as rosy as a wild rose’s petals, her dark brown hair was streaked with red and gold from the sun, and she strode proudly among the men of the camp, as if the pleasures she had taken with me had filled a need in her soul. She smiled more often and spoke more kindly to some, and the men took this as a sign of her favor.
I rejoiced in this new beauty, but feared for her. I knew the thoughts of some men, for I had heard the bolder ones whisper them to one another. A time might come when the younger Holy One would no longer commune with spirits on the night of the full moon, when she too would summon men to her side. They whispered that Birana’s smile showed her anticipation of the day she would enter the holy state with those she would call. More men found reasons to be near her, to help her in the work of gathering food or wood for the fires.
I did not seek her out often when others were near and lowered my eyes when she passed, afraid that others might see what was in my thoughts and mark by the way I gazed at her that we had grown closer. A hunter, I knew, could read many things in the stance and gaze of another.
I had won her, won her body and the love of her soul. I had overcome the obstacles the world had set in my path and had conquered my fear and hers. At times, I wanted to shout this to the others, to let them know she had chosen me; but I held my peace, knowing that I would only destroy what I had won.
I sat with Birana by the island cove; Yerlan had sent me to guard her for the sixth time. The oaks had lost nearly all of their leaves by then, and the camp often woke to the sight of frost on the ground.
Our pleasures that day had been given with hands and lips because it was a time when my seed might have grown within her. I had shown her how to take me into her mouth, as a man might do, but this had not been easy for her. I hoped that a time would come when she would welcome the taste of me, as I delighted in hers.
She cut at my hair with my metal knife, working gently at each strand until my hair curled against the top of my neck, then drew my curls through her fingers as I pressed my mouth to hers. “Now for your face,” she murmured. I had little hair on my face but allowed her to draw the knife carefully across my cheeks.
I said, “I may want a man’s beard in time.”
“Your face is too pleasing to hide with a beard.”
“I think that’s why Yerlan has no beard—not because it’s the custom among many of these men, but because he cannot bear to hide his beauty.”
“Yerlan!” She sniffed. “How tedious it is to listen to him sometimes, with all his talk about how strong he is, and how no one has ever beaten him in a contest. When I smile and tell him how fine he is, I feel like a fool.”
I took the knife from her. “Birana, it isn’t wise to think of Yerlan that way. He is a Headman, he became one when he wasn’t much older than I am now. He may not have the cleverness or wit of some others, but he watches and sees more than you know.”
She lowered her eyes. “Now you’re frightening me.”
“I mean to frighten you. You must be on your guard with him, as I am. If you’re careless in your dealings with him or show contempt, he will be shamed, and a shamed man can do reckless deeds.”
“All that posturing!” she burst out. “All the bragging, the preening and strutting, all those competitions to see who’s better with a spear or who can wrestle someone else to the ground.”
“We must be strong and skilled at such things if we’re to live. We must know where another might be weaker, or how he might fail us.”
“The men don’t have contests only for that. They want the enjoyment of beating someone else, of being better.”
“It would be good if you shared some of those feelings,” I said. “You might grow better at such arts if you did.”
“I might improve if, every time we try to practice them here, you didn’t start wanting to do other things.”
I pulled her to her feet. “I do not see you resist those other things.”
I wanted to be alone with her for the rest of that day but knew that Tulan, who was with Nallei, would begin to look for me soon. I worried a little about Nallei as well. Although she did not complain, she moved more stiffly in this colder weather, as though her bones had started to ache. My time with Wirlan had made me able to see such signs and mark what they meant. I was concerned about Nallei for her own sake, but also for Birana’s as well. Birana’s companion protected her, and I feared what might happen if Nallei could no longer do so.
That fall, I was allowed to lead a band of hunters from the camp. We had hunted deer before, bringing some of those creatures down with our spears and stealing other carcasses from the cats and wolves that had killed them. This time, we hunted bear, tracking a creature that might injure or kill us. Yerlan, I was sure, was testing me by allowing me to lead this hunt. I did not want to fail.
We tracked a bear for a day, rested that night, and found him the next morning. As our spears flew toward him, he rose up on his legs, maddened by this assault. My spear found his throat as he staggered toward us, bringing him down only a few paces from my feet.
We lashed the bear to a sturdy tree limb. He was fat with the food he had eaten to sustain him during his winter’s sleep, and it took much of our strength to carry him back toward the trail.
“You did well, Vilan,” Aklan said, using the name that meant I was one of the men of the lake. “We’ll have fat to render and good eating for many days, and you will have a fine hide.”
“I’ll have to speak to the Headman before I can take it,” I said.
“It was your spear that brought death to this bear. The Headman will let you have the hide. You may have need of it, for winters grow cold by the lake.”
I had my sheepskin coat and would not need this hide as well. It came to me that Yerlan might not be pleased by my success. Even after nearly two seasons, Yerlan had not warmed toward me, and I pondered what I would say to him.
It took us the rest of that day to reach the camp with our burden. The hunters rested as other men labored over the carcass. Tired as I was, I roused myself and went to Yerlan.
He sat outside his dwelling; a furry hide protected him against the cold night air. Behind him, the fire of his hearth glowed. His head was bowed as though he were deep in thought.
“Greetings, Headman,” I said as I sat down. “We have brought back a bear, and it was my spear that carried his death to him.”
“Then you’ll have a hide, Vilan.”
“I have this coat I wear and the skin of a cat as well. They’ll serve me during the coming season. I have seen your skill as a hunter and, had you been with us, your spear would have brought him down, not mine. I would give this hide to you.”
He scowled. “I’ve proven myself as a hunter. I have hides enough. I do not need the gifts one would give to an old man.”
I had only insulted him with my offer. “I have not spoken well,” I said quickly. “It is my wish that you have this hide to take to the Holy Ones.” I was thinking of Nallei then, of how she shivered in the cold. “It is you who should make this gift to Them, not I, for it is you who are the leader and the greatest hunter here. The Holy Ones will thank you for it.”
He was silent. His eyes were hidden by the darkness, and I did not know what he was thinking. One mistake, I knew, could turn him against me.
“I am pleased,” he said at last. “The Holy Ones do me honor, but it is you the younger One smiles upon most often.” I steadied myself. “Now, She will smile upon me, and thank me.”
The other hunters were drawing near. Yerlan waved them away. “My words are for Vilan,” he said. “Leave us.” The others backed away. “What favor do you seek, Vilan? Another time with the Holy Ones on Their island? I have sent you there often enough.”
“It is always an honor to serve the Holy Ones,” I said carefully, “but it’s also an honor to be part of your band.”
“I have sent you there, and the Holy Ones don’t find you displeasing, and yet the black-haired Lady has not yet called you to Her side. She calls fewer now, and almost none of the younger men. Do you think that displaying yourself before Her more often will cause Her to call you?”
“A man always prays for the Lady’s blessing.”
“You may pray for it. I receive it at the time of the full moon, always.” His hand passed over his groin. “I say this to you now. A part of me knows that it’s right that She grants Her blessing to others, and yet my soul rages when She lies with another man.”
“She would not prefer me to you, Headman. I don’t think She will call me.”
“Perhaps it isn’t the black-haired Lady you long for most, beautiful as She is. Perhaps it is the younger One you want. A time may come when She will welcome the holy state, when the invisible spirits guide Her to us. If that is so, it is I who will lie with Her, who will feel Her body under mine.”
I swallowed hard. My face burned. I wanted to mar his handsome face, to bury my knife in his chest.
“It’s the brown-haired One you long for,” he continued. “I see it when She walks by and you lower your eyes to hide your thoughts. Do you think you can hide them from Her? Do you think you can hide them from me?”
“I have only the longing the others in the band share,” I replied.
“There is more in your eyes than their longing, more than their awe.”
I was frightened then. “It was to me that the Lady first revealed Herself,” I said. “During our journey here, I came to hope that I would have a special place in Her thoughts, but that was not to be, although She honors me as Her messenger. She will not call me, Yerlan, and will call no one else. To me, She shows only the kindness She would show any man who had protected Her and brought Her to this fine band. It’s true that I long for more than Her kindness, but I am content with that.”
Yerlan began to murmur to me then of the pleasures he had shared with Nallei. Although he used holy words to speak of them, his talk made my gorge rise. No respect was in his voice, and he spoke of Nallei as if she were no more than a vessel for his lusts.
It came to me then that Yerlan, who had been with Nallei so often, might have grown aware of her true nature. In all of his talk, there was also a message for me. I am the Headman, Yerlan was saying. This pleasure will be mine; it will not be yours unless the Lady chooses you, and it may be that I can see She does not choose you. I wondered what he would think if he knew that Nallei hated what he did.
Somehow, throughout his coarse talk, I kept my senses. Birana had come to me. Yerlan would never know those pleasures; he would never have Birana welcome him.
“I am honored that you speak of these holy matters to me,” I said when he was finished, “but it isn’t my place to hear them.”
“It may be time you had a higher place,” he said. “You haven’t done badly for one who came to us as a stranger, for one who is still so young. You are a worthy enough hunter, and Wirlan tells me you begin to master some of his healing lore.” He paused. “It is my wish that you move your belongings to my hearth, to my dwelling, and that you become one of those closest to me.”
I had not wanted this honor, nor had I expected it. He was not doing this in the hope I would lie with him, for the others had told me he sought no love from men since lying with Nallei. He was not just showing respect; he wanted me close, where he could watch me. I would be in more danger now.
“I am honored,” I replied, putting as much conviction into the words as I could.
My place at Yerlan’s hearth and the knowledge that he would be watching me was enough to make me cautious. My worries tainted even those few moments I had alone with Birana. I was afraid to take too much pleasure with her for fear that the Headman might glimpse my joy and wonder at its cause when I returned to the camp.