The Shore of Women (37 page)

“You speak truly. Some youth is in my soul still.”

We slept and, in the morning, the Prayergiver said many prayers as we prepared to go to what I hoped would be our refuge.

Toward midday, I felt eyes upon us and knew we were being watched. I caught no sight of anyone. These men had the stealth of Jerlan and his band and betrayed themselves with no sound. As we walked on, the cries of birds echoed among the trees, but something in their song made me wonder if it was birds that sang it.

As we reached a clearing that looked out over the lake, a voice behind us said, “Cast down your weapons.”

We obeyed. Four men dropped to the ground from the trees around the clearing, lifted their bows, and aimed their arrows at us. “We come in peace,” the Prayergiver said.

One man lowered his bow. “You wear the garments of the lake bands,” he continued in the holy speech, “as does that boy, and yet you bring two strangers here, and beasts as well. You know that you cannot enter our camp.”

“I am Prayergiver for my band. I have traveled here before and have seen your holy vision.”

The man gestured angrily. “Then you know you were not to return.”

The Prayergiver held out his hands. “If I cannot enter, then bring your Prayergiver outside your camp, and I shall speak to him of another vision I have seen.”

“Another vision?” The stranger scowled.

“I shall tell your Prayergiver of holiness.”

“He’s too old and weak to leave the camp,” another man said.

“Then bring out your Headman, so that I may speak to him. I tell you that, blessed as you are now, your blessings will be multiplied if you heed me and welcome these travelers. If you do not, a curse will fall upon you.”

The first man who had spoken laughed. “Do you think we, so loved of the Lady, can be cursed by you?”

“It will be so if you don’t welcome these two travelers.”

“We take strangers into our camp no more and speak to them only away from it. I shall tell these two now that, if we do not like what we hear, they must die. We have a truce with you, Prayergiver, but not with them.”

“I must speak to your Headman,” the Prayergiver said firmly. “You know that I wouldn’t have traveled here and left my band without my prayers for something of little consequence.”

The men spoke among themselves, and then another stepped forward. “You may turn back now, and we shall let you leave safely.”

The Prayergiver shook his head. “I’ll stay until your Headman speaks to me.”

“You risk breaking your truce with us, old man.”

“Then I’ll risk it.”

The men said more to the Prayergiver in the lake tongue, and he replied in the same speech. At last one man turned and ran into the wood while the others remained.

“He will fetch their Headman,” the Prayergiver said. “It is he who will have to decide about us. It seems that while we wait, we must make our camp here.”

By nightfall, no one had come for us. We would have to sleep under the eyes of the men who guarded us.

The horses had been tethered, but our guards kept well away from them. I raised a shelter for Birana and then lay down beside her. “If the Headman doesn’t come,” I said, “you will have to show them what you are.”

She shivered. “But the Prayergiver seems to think it’s important to speak to this Headman.”

“It doesn’t matter. Would you rather feel an arrow in your chest?”

She said no more that night, but once she called out in her sleep. I put my hand on her shoulder to calm her, wondering if it had been wise to come here.

In the morning, the Prayergiver took out some food, but I had no appetite for it. I gazed at the piece of dried fish in my hand for a moment, then rose and walked toward our guards. “For you,” I said, “so that you will know we mean no harm.”

One man stretched out a hand, but his companion slapped his arm down. “Don’t take it. We will not take food from one who may have to die at our hands.” His brown eyes were hard as he looked at me.

I walked back to Birana and sat down. “Can this camp be so far?” I asked the Prayergiver.

“It isn’t far, but perhaps the Headman must decide if he should come here.”

“And if he does not?”

The old man glanced at Tulan, then spoke softly. “If he doesn’t, hope those others see the truth before you die. I have a truce with them. I can defend you only with words.”

I waited impatiently, thinking of trying to escape with Birana on our horses before they could stop us. But it would be useless to flee. We did not know this wood, and the horses, slowed by underbrush, might not be able to outrun the men.

Three men suddenly emerged from the trees. A fourth man followed them into the clearing, and I knew before I was told that he was Headman here. He was tall, even taller than I, and his spear was decorated with feathers as Irlan’s had been. His unbearded face, with its strong chin and even features unmarked by blows, was one of beauty. His light brown hair fell to his shoulders and though his bare, broad chest was nearly as wide as Irlan’s, he carried no fat on his body. I did not want to risk a contest with this man.

The Prayergiver rose quickly and bowed; Birana and I followed his example. The Headman spoke a few words in the lake tongue.

“Greetings, Headman,” the Prayergiver answered in holy speech. “I would speak to you in this tongue, for it is holiness I bring to you.”

“Do not stain your soul with false words, Prayergiver,” the Headman replied in the same speech. “You were not to travel here again, but now I’m told you have seen a vision. What holiness can you bring us that we don’t already have?”

“I bring holiness, and you will see it and be sorry for your words. I swear by the Lady that I’ll offer my life freely to you if you do not find holiness, for I don’t want to live if my vision was a false one.”

These words had clearly moved the Headman. He handed his spear to one of his men, then said, “And how will I know the truth of this vision?”

“You will see it.” The Prayergiver waved a hand at me. “Our Headman challenged the truth this man told me, and contested with him, and died for his foolishness. This boy proved himself in contests before we came here and wants a place with you. I would have you accept both of them among your men.”

The Headman looked at Birana. “And this other boy?”

“That one will show you that my holy vision was true.”

The Headman’s lip curled. “We will take the smaller boy if I find you have been truthful. If not, he will carry the news of your death, the death you chose, and word of the deaths of these strangers back to your camp.”

“They are my friends!” Tulan cried out. “You mustn’t hurt them.”

“Be silent,” the Headman said. I put a hand on Tulan’s shoulder, moved by his words but afraid of what the Headman might do. He looked down at Tulan from his great height and the shadow of a smile touched his lips. “Brave words are empty unless followed by deeds, and you are too small to give your words force.” He looked around at his men, then turned back to the Prayergiver. “You say that your Headman challenged the truth of your vision. Didn’t a truthsaying reveal the truth?”

The old man said, “There was no need for a truthsaying, as you will see.” He moved closer to Birana. “This one will show you.”

As the Headman gazed steadily at Birana with his dark eyes, a look of wonder and then understanding passed over his face. I was suddenly sure, without knowing why, that he had guessed what she was. “Prayergiver,” he said, “you will come with this one and with me, and we shall see what truth is revealed. If an evil one has deceived you, I will not have my men stained by the evil.”

He walked toward the trees. Birana, head bowed, followed him, the Prayergiver at her side. I wanted to follow her, to shield her however I could.

I sat down with Tulan to wait. I would never forgive myself if harm came to her; I would contend with this Headman even if it meant my death. A long time seemed to pass, and then there was a shout from the trees. My throat was dry with fear.

The Headman came into the clearing, holding out an arm as Birana and the Prayergiver emerged from the trees. “Holy messenger!” he cried to me. “Forgive me for my words.” I knew then that we were safe and yet saw no awe or fear in this man’s face, only triumph and pride. “Kneel!” he shouted to the others. “Know that we who were blessed are blessed again. The Lady has come among us in this guise, and a holy aspect is among us.”

Birana had taken off her coat and held it at her side. Her belt was over her shirt, around her waist, making the swell of her breasts and hips apparent. This was enough to convince the men, who knelt and struck their heads on the ground. Tulan gaped at me for a moment, then threw himself onto the grass.

“She and Her messenger seek to live among us,” the Headman continued. “Give thanks that we have been found worthy once more.” Hope rose in me. His words could mean only that he had seen at least one of Birana’s kind before. Yet still he did not bow but stood easily at her side, as though this vision were no more than his due.

Birana was pale. Fear marked her face, and her hands trembled at her sides. She did not look like one who had found a refuge. She staggered, then righted herself, and I wondered what she feared now.

I helped Birana mount Flame. Her hands were cold to my touch. “She is truly holy,” one man said, “for Her power has tamed even these beasts.”

“Tulan shall guide Her horse,” I said as I handed the reins to the boy. He smiled at me, his eyes wide with awe.

A dark look passed over the Headman’s face as he came to my side, and then vanished as he nodded at me. I thought I had seen anger, but how could I have angered him? “I’ll lead you to my camp,” he said.

The Headman walked with Tulan while I followed with the other horses. The Prayergiver and the other men walked behind me. Soon we came to land where tree stumps stood, and then to a patch of cleared land where only some grass and a few shrubs grew. Ahead was a wall of dirt and stone much like the one around the Prayergiver’s camp.

“An aspect of the Lady comes among us,” the Headman shouted to the men on the wall. They cast down their weapons and bowed before us as the Headman turned toward the Prayergiver. “You swore that you would not enter our camp again, so you must make camp here, but I’ll send out men to guard you. You will be brought some of our feast and will be given food and water and men to travel with you when you return to your own camp.”

The Prayergiver bowed his head.

“Blessed are you, who brought Her to us.” The Headman held out a hand, palm down. “May your band thrive, but you must not speak of these holy matters to them.”

“I swear that I’ll tell them only that you have accepted the travelers and the boy.” The old man embraced Tulan, then gripped my arm for a moment.

“I thank you for guiding us here,” I said.

“It is you I must thank, Arvil, and the Lady.” I felt sadness at this parting, but curiosity about what I would find here dispelled my sadder thoughts.

We went through the opening in the wall and passed gardens where other men bowed and knelt. This band seemed ever larger than Jerlan’s. We were led to a clearing surrounded by dwellings made of tree trunks, and there Birana dismounted.

“Our Prayergiver must see the vision now,” the Headman murmured as he took her arm and led her toward a small hut a few paces from the wall. I wondered that he could bring himself to touch her. They entered the hut and remained inside for a short time. When they came out again, Birana was even paler than before.

I tied our horses to a sapling near the Prayergiver’s house. Mats were set outside his door, and the Headman motioned to us to sit. “I must leave You for a while, but You may wait here while the men prepare our feast.” He bowed to Birana and then strode away.

The Prayergiver came out of his house, leaning on a stick. He was thin, older and more feeble than the Prayergiver who had guided us. He knelt before us, chanting many prayers as he made motions in the air with his clawed hands, then beckoned to Tulan. “Sit by me, young one, and tell me of your band and what happens now among them, and leave the Lady and Her messenger to await our bounty.” Another mat was brought, and the Prayergiver and Tulan sat down several paces from our side.

The men of the camp hurried into their dwellings to prepare their feast. Boys and gardeners passed us with baskets but did not speak to us. Most of the men in this camp, as in Jerlan’s, wore no beards or kept them short around their faces; Tulan had told me this was so the men would more closely resemble the Lady.

We were facing the lake and I saw that the camp overlooked a bay. Just below the clearing, on the shore, several boats were overturned. The Headman and two others were setting one of the boats in the water. The Headman climbed in and settled himself in the center while the two men paddled out onto the lake. An island lay out on the bay and seemed to be their destination. I narrowed my eyes but could not see what might lie there.

I glanced at Birana; her hands trembled. I lifted my eyes to her unhappy face. “You are safe now,” I murmured. “This band has more than did that other band, and you cannot be betrayed by these men if they don’t go to shrines. Why do you seem so sad?”

She looked toward the Prayergiver, but he was deep in talk with Tulan and too far from us to hear. Her jaw tightened. “The Headman,” she said between clenched teeth. “He didn’t just look at me, he put his hands on me, and so did the old man there, and they kept saying their holy words, but their hands were on me as if they saw nothing wrong in touching me. I wanted to scream. The Headman kept saying how holy I was, but I saw what was in his eyes.”

My face flamed. To have others look at her was bad enough; to think of their hands on her was more than I could stand. I struggled with my rage. “I am with you. No harm will come to you.” These were empty words, I knew.

“I thought this might be a refuge,” she said, “but there are only men.”

“You heard his words. He has seen your kind before.”

“Perhaps he dreamed it.”

“The Prayergiver didn’t,” I said. “A whole band would not have the same dream.”

The sun was lower in the sky. Men carried torches from their dwellings and set them around the clearing. Others followed, carrying baskets and food in clay pots to us. After they had set them down, they began to dance and chanted songs in their own speech. I ate of the food, but Birana took only water.