The Shore of Women (48 page)

He clung to me as I held him. He knew nothing of the spirit-women’s pleasures, for he had been too young to learn of them before coming here. I had hoped he might find another boy to love. Birana had made it impossible for me to love him as he wanted, and I felt a pang at that.

None of that mattered. What mattered now, I told myself coldly, was that Tulan had become a danger to us.

“Listen to me,” I said. “I care for you more than for anyone here. I think of you as my true friend, almost as a charge. Can’t you be happy with that?” I swallowed. “A day may come when I will lie with you.” I had expected those words to sound false, and yet there was some truth in them, as if I already saw a time when my longing for Birana would fade and I would seek the fiercer, sharper pleasures of knowing a man.

I spoke to him gently for some time, holding him and soothing him with my words while silently cursing him for his love.

I no longer sought out Birana so often when we went to her island. I saw questions and doubts in her eyes but did not speak of what Tulan had told me, knowing that this would only make her fearful. Instead, I found more reasons to leave the camp with her or to wait for her in our glade. We were careful to hide our tracks, tethering our horses below.

The others marked the season by which plants were ready for gathering or harvesting, by the movements of the fish in the lake or the animals on the land, by hunts and contests and journeys to another of the lake camps. I marked the season by my times with Birana. On a day in midsummer, I tasted of her as the light shining through the trees above dappled her skin, making new patterns upon it as she moved. On a day after the band had gathered wild rice, I knelt before her and gazed at the sight of my member thrusting into her. On a day when the leaves had begun to turn, I moved inside her as she lay on her belly and felt her hips and cleft with my hand.

In this way, I measured time; I measured it also by the changes that came to our bodies. Her arms were stronger when they held me, her breasts fuller and heavier in my hands. More hair grew on my face and I had to hone my metal blade into fineness to cut it away.

Another winter came, and another spring followed. Tulan seemed lulled by my words of a love that might be his later, and my love for Birana flowered again. But this summer was not to be like others.

The winter now past had weakened Nallei, although the season had been milder than others and little snow had come. Streaks of silver marked her hair while her body grew more stooped. She ate little, and the potions I brought to her did not increase her hunger. She became thinner until her pale skin hung loosely around her face and the blue veins of her arms were visible. Only her golden eyes reminded me of her former beauty.

The men whispered of this and of the weather as well. Little rain came that spring and by early summer, the air was thick and still. Often it grew so close inside our dwellings that men took up their mats and lay in the open space.

At first our hunting was good. The deer could no longer drink at streams now dry, and came nearer to the lake. Predators followed, leaving carcasses we could steal. A pack of wolves roamed near the camp; we killed several and drove the rest away. After that, we found less game. We had enough water to drink but spent long days digging a trench from the lake to carry it to the gardens. Even then the plants did not thrive.

The sun beat down on the land until the leaves of the trees grew browner and more brittle. Banks once covered by the lake became a sea of mud, then dried and cracked. We had to range farther for game until we risked moving onto the territory of other lake bands. We feared building fires when making camp away from the lake lest a stray spark set the forest ablaze. Even in early summer, we counted our supplies and thought of the winter ahead.

The times of the full moon, when Nallei was carried into the camp, were no longer times of joy. The men gazed at Nallei’s aging face and graying hair and saw the thinness and weakness of her body. They whispered that she was losing her powers, that her body would soon shed her spirit, that she was too weak even to call down the rain.

Something had caused the Lady to curse the band and the land around the lake. The men murmured this, and Tulan was one of those who said it most often. He did not say it before me, but I heard his friends speak of this curse and of what Tulan had told them. The boy was watching me even more closely now; I did not dare to go to Birana when we were on the island. We shared our love only during our meetings away from the camp, and there were few such times because we had to labor harder to find food. We lay together on dry ground covered with brown needles and dead leaves, knowing that at least we were safe for a little time, and yet I sometimes sensed the eyes of one watching. Such fears were often with me, and I no longer trusted my own instincts. I could no longer love Birana without thinking that each time together might be our last.

A day came when Wirlan and I were sent to the island together. The healer went up to the hut alone while Birana and I waited by the boat.

“It will be well,” I said to her. “I don’t know enough of healing to be of much use, but Wirlan will find ways to help her.”

She sat down on one of the flat rocks, her legs dangling over the edge. Once the tops of her feet would have nearly met the water, but the lake was lower now. “She may be dying,” she said. She had not said this before in my presence and perhaps had not admitted it to herself. “Arvil, she’s in pain, she can hardly walk. She can’t eat, and often she can’t even keep down the potions you bring her. She tries not to complain, but I see her suffering. I can do so little for her now.”

I knew all this. I had sat outside the hut as Birana tended Nallei and had heard Nallei’s moans as Birana tried to soothe her. “Wirlan will make her better,” I said, trying to believe it.

“I don’t think she wants to get better. I think she wants to die.”

“There is something I must say,” I murmured as I sat beside her. “This land is dying now. We can leave this camp. We can ride away, as we have done before, and never return. We could ride far before they know we are gone for good.”

“I can’t.”

“You dreamed of escaping before.”

She gazed at me. She had pulled her hair up and tied it back from her face. Hollows were in her cheeks, as if she had eaten little for the past days. “I can’t leave Nallei now. If there’s a chance she can live, she’ll need me. If there isn’t, I can’t let her die alone.”

“If you wait too long,” I said, “you’ll have no chance to escape. We’ll need food and there are three horses in the camp. They will provide meat if it’s needed, and that will be the end of our hope of escaping on them.”

“They are my horses. I’ll forbid it.”

She seemed more concerned for the animals than for herself. “How long do you think the men will obey you now? They say they are cursed, that the Lady cannot lift this curse from them. They will begin to rage at you. Nallei would want you to find what escape you can.”

“That isn’t so, Arvil. She clings to me now, I’m all she has left. Do you think I could go from here knowing I’d abandoned her?” She paused. “The men here won’t harm me. Yerlan would never allow it. I could call on him for help if there were any danger, but there won’t be. I can tell the men the curse will be lifted. This weather can’t go on forever. We’ll have a chance to escape later. I can’t leave Nallei now.”

I saw the torment in her face, her fear for us and her concern for Nallei; yet an evil in my soul emerged then, as though the sun and the heat had burned away the bonds that held my wicked thoughts. “I know what lies inside you now,” I heard myself say. “I have shown you pleasures. Now you tire of me and see that you can share them with others. Perhaps you want Yerlan at your side and would welcome his strong body. You don’t even have to risk the danger of his seed growing inside you, for you can show him other ways to reach the holy state.” My anger grew as I spoke, but somehow I was roused as well. I wanted to fling her upon the rocks and take her at that moment, and the thought of Yerlan lying with her fed both my fury and my desire. “Perhaps you want two men to lie together with you. Perhaps your need has grown too great for me to satisfy it alone.”

Her hand darted toward me. She struck such a blow that my cheek burned. As she got to her feet, I rose and lifted my arm. My open hand found her face. She fell, nearly striking her head on the rock.

I dropped to her side. Her cheek was red where I had hit her, but somehow I had held back the full force of my blow. I cupped her head in my hands. “Forgive me,” I said. “Birana, what’s happening to us?”

She pushed me away. “Don’t come near me.”

“Birana…”

“If that’s what you’ve been thinking, then leave the camp by yourself. I don’t care if I never see you again. I should have known how little love there was inside you.”

She sat with her back to me. At last I said, “There’s little love in you if a few evil, careless words and one blow I already regret can divide us.”

She turned her head. As I was about to say more, I heard a sound behind us.

Wirlan was walking down the trail. I stood up, afraid that he might have heard our angry voices, but his long face was solemn, his mind elsewhere. “I must speak to you, Vilan,” he said.

“You may say what you have to say to Me as well,” Birana said as she rose.

“Lady, my words are not of the Holy One’s spirit, but about the body that holds Her. The body is dying. I have seen such an ailment only a few times before, in older men, but Hers is like theirs. Something grows in Her belly and feeds on Her—it is a claw that is tearing Her life from Her. She has been marked by death, Holy One. There is nothing I can do for Her now except ease Her pain.”

“No,” Birana whispered.

“The other Holy One knows it is so. I told Her of Her approaching death. My words did not surprise Her. I shall go to the camp now and bring what I can for Her. She rests, but She will need you soon.”

Birana said, “There must be something you can do.”

Wirlan’s mouth twisted. “Unless You have some magic You can use against death, there is nothing that can be done.”

Birana let out a cry, then stumbled up the path. I stared at the healer, unable to speak. “This illness is a great evil,” he said. “It isn’t a pestilence carried by the wind, or a fever that leaps from one man to another. It is as if the very body turns upon itself and creates its own death from inside.”

“And you can do nothing?”

“This is also part of being a healer, Vilan—knowing that one can only make a death that must come a little easier. I must go and fetch what I can for Her. Yerlan will have to be told.”

“How can you tell him this?”

“He will have to know and prepare the men for Her passing. He can no longer deny it or hide from it. I have sensed for some time that there was a weakness in Her body.” His hand rested on my shoulder. “I must go. The young Holy One may need your help now until I return.”

He pushed the boat into the water. I could not bring myself to go to the hut to witness Nallei’s pain, to see the anger in Birana’s eyes. I thought: The love that brought me here is dying with everything else.

Other men came to the island the next morning, while Wirlan and I returned to the camp. I had expected the Headman to rage against us for being unable to heal Nallei. Instead, he listened to us in silence, then went to sit in front of his dwelling, refusing to speak, gazing about the clearing with unseeing eyes.

Tulan, once so attentive to the horses, had been neglecting them, and it was left to me to find what I could for them. Flame’s coat no longer shone, and I could feel her ribs under my hand. Wild Spirit’s legs seemed almost too thin to carry her, and Star was often weary.

I was feeding them the few roots I had gathered when Aklan ran through the gardens toward the clearing. He stopped before Yerlan and began to speak, waving his arms wildly. The Headman did not move. Wirlan left his dwelling to speak to Aklan, and then the two men came up to me.

“Vilan, you must come with us.” Aklan pulled at my arm. “The hunters of another band wait beyond the wall. They cannot enter the camp and see what is here now, but we must speak to them.”

“This is business for the Headman,” I said, wondering how much longer Yerlan would refuse to act.

“He will not come,” Aklan replied. “He didn’t even seem to hear my words, and the Prayergiver is too weak from the heat to be carried outside. I have fetched the healer instead and would have you come with us as well.”

“I can be of little use,” I said.

“Among them is the man who led you and the blue-eyed Holy One here,” Aklan said. “I think they will speak to you.”

They led me from the camp as I wondered what the other band wanted from us. We walked along the trail until we came to a glade where four hunters stood with the Prayergiver who had guided me here.

I went to him and gripped his arms. He was thinner now, his hair a bit grayer. He embraced me, then stepped back. “Where is your Headman?” he asked.

“He is unable to leave the camp now,” Wirlan answered. “I am healer in this camp. I’ll speak for him.”

The Prayergiver glanced from him to me. “I came here hoping that you, who are so blessed, would know of a way to break the evil spell that lies on us. Now I see that the spell holds you as well.” He motioned his men away, then leaned toward us. “Are the Holy Ones who dwell with you also powerless?” he said in a soft voice.

“I do not know,” Wirlan said. “We wait, as you do, for the spell to be broken.”

“This is what I feared.” The lines around the Prayergiver’s mouth deepened. “Another band not far from us has left their camp to travel west. We have known for some time that we might have to seek other lands. Jerlan, the Headman of my band, asked me to travel here, but I’ll have no good tidings to carry to him. We will have to leave the lake and live elsewhere. Perhaps we can return in another season.” He paused. “And will you leave also?”

“We cannot leave,” Aklan said. “The Lady…” Wirlan gestured at him to be silent. “We cannot leave,” Aklan repeated.