BIRANA

 

A woman lived among this band. I wanted to speak with her, question her, but could not until we were alone. My legs were weak. I sat down again quickly; she seated herself next to me.

“We’ll be here only a short time,” she said in an undertone. “You must eat.” She pushed a pot toward me, but I was too excited to eat.

We were silent as the men danced some more. A few of their gestures disturbed me. The young ones held out their arms as if seeking an embrace, while others came as close to me as they dared and motioned at their groins. I swallowed hard and looked down.

At last the dancing stopped, and the men settled themselves on the ground as boys carried food to them. The woman said nothing to me as they ate, then held up her hand.

The Headman rose and walked toward us. “I’ll tell him we must leave now,” the woman whispered. “You must ride on the litter with me.”

“What about my companions?” I whispered back.

“Companions?”

“The man with me and the boy with the Prayergiver.”

“They cannot come with us.”

The Headman stood before me. I repressed a shudder as I gazed at his face. “I would share in your celebration,” the woman said in her husky voice, “but I wish to be with My sister aspect, and want to return to My home now.”

The Headman bowed. “It will be as You wish, Holy One.”

I glanced at Arvil. He was staring back at me. I had to do what I could for him now. I did not know this band’s customs and wondered if Arvil or Tulan would be forced to pass through what these men called a truthsaying.

I stood up. The woman tugged at my shirt, obviously wanting me to remain silent; I ignored her. “I say this to all of you.” I put as much resonance into my voice as I could muster. “This man, Arvil, who sits at My side, is the holy messenger to whom I first revealed Myself. The boy, Tulan, is My true friend. I have seen into their souls, and so there is no need for them to pass through a truthsaying with you. I ask you to let them dwell among you in peace.”

The Headman’s dark eyes glittered as he looked at me. I remembered how he had put his hands on me in the forest, how he had touched my breasts and let his hands fall to my waist; I had nearly been sick. My throat locked for a moment.

He bowed again. “Because they came with You, Holy One, we will obey and treat them as members of our band.”

I found my voice once more. “Arvil and Tulan will tend My horses.”

The Headman nodded. “It will be so, Holy One.”

I turned toward Arvil for a moment. He smiled a little. I had done all for him that I could but was suddenly afraid to leave his side, anxious as I was to find out how this woman had survived.

 

 

We were carried down to the lake on the litter, which swayed a little as we moved. I gripped one of the poles, hoping that the men would not stumble. When the litter had been set on the ground, the Headman helped us into a boat, bid us farewell, and then walked back up toward his camp.

One man climbed into the bow; the other pushed the boat out and then sat in the stern. Three more men went ahead of us in a second boat; one held a torch while the others paddled.

My companion was silent in the presence of the men. The air was warm and still; someone in the camp behind us was singing a song. His voice faded until the only sound I heard was the soft lapping of the water against the boat and paddles.

Our destination, it seemed, was an island I had seen earlier from the camp. I wondered what was there, and if other women dwelled on that island. Somehow, I doubted it; surely they would have been brought to the camp as well. I tried not to feel too disappointed. I would have one friend at least and from her could learn more about this land and what lay beyond it.

The boat whispered through a few reeds as we neared the island. Above the muddy shore, a few flat rocks jutted out from the land. The men in the other boat got out of their craft, dragged it ashore, and lifted baskets from it.

When our boat had landed, I followed the woman and the men along a trail leading up to higher ground. Near the top of this slope, land had been cleared, and a square structure of wood stood under the trees, a hide hanging in its entrance. The men set their baskets down by the doorway, put a long torch in the ground next to them, then stepped back.

“What do You wish from us?” one man asked.

“Go to your boats now,” the woman replied. “I would be alone with My companion.”

“We are blessed, Holy One,” the man replied.

 

 

When the men were gone, I embraced this woman again, unable to hold back my tears. “I never thought…”

“I know, girl, I know. I believed I’d never see another woman again.” She released me. “I had better show you my home.”

She led me to a sheltered ditch in back of the hut where I could relieve myself, and then we carried the baskets inside. As I sat down in the darkness, she went outside and brought in the torch. Wood had been set inside a fireplace circled by rocks in the center of the floor; she held the torch to the wood until a fire started to burn.

The inside of the hut was now visible. Mud and clay filled the spaces between the logs of the hut; in one corner, a wide mat was heaped with hides and furs. A wooden platform held several pots, baskets, and neatly folded garments of leather and fur.

My companion set the torch outside the door, then sat down at my side, reaching for my hand. My mind was filled with questions, but I could not speak.

“We can talk freely now.” Her low voice shook a little, as if she were as overcome as I was. “Two of the men will stay below by the boat to guard us while the others return to their camp.”

I let go of her hand. “You’ve been alone here?”

She nodded. “I must ask you—did you tell them your name?”

I realized I hadn’t and shook my head.

“Good. They don’t know mine, either. It’s best that they don’t. We’re simply the Holy Ones to them. My name is Nallei, but use it only when we’re by ourselves.”

“I am Birana.”

She leaned toward me. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear another woman’s voice. When Yerlan, the Headman, came here to tell me you were in the camp, I couldn’t believe it until I saw it for myself.” Her hazel eyes narrowed as she spoke of the Headman. “But you’ve already caused me some worry. These men were supposed to keep my secret. How did you find your way here?”

“My companion and I found our way to another camp by the lake. We were told a holy vision had been seen here, but not what it was.” I went on to tell her of how the Prayergiver had guided us after I had revealed myself to him, but said little of my first meeting with Yerlan. This woman might despise me for allowing him to touch me, for not commanding his respect.

“How long have you been here?” I asked when I had finished.

“Nearly sixteen years.”

I gasped, horrified.

“I’ve kept track of the years there.” She pointed to a place on the wall where long marks had been scratched on one of the trunks. “I was in my twenties when I came.”

I peered at her face. Sixteen years, and yet somehow she had kept her beauty. “What did you do to be expelled?”

She scowled, and I knew I shouldn’t have asked. “That’s of no importance now. Did I ask how one so young got herself expelled? You’d better forget your former life.”

I gazed at the fire. I would be staying here with Nallei; that might be easier if I did not know her crime. She might have been one like my mother, angry and quick-tempered, or her crime might have been planned and deliberate. I would be at her mercy, yet she was still another woman; I tried to take some consolation from that fact.

“I was sent out for my mother’s deed,” I said, “not my own.”

“You must have had some part in it, then, but enough of that.” Her voice was hard; I supposed that living out here had hardened her. “Wasn’t she expelled as well?”

“My mother is dead. Men killed her before seeing what she was.” I bowed my head.

“I’m sorry, Birana.” She touched my shoulder lightly. “But you’ll be safe here, as safe as you can be anywhere. These men worship me, and they’ll worship you, too. They’ll tend to all your needs. Just be cautious around Yerlan. He worships me, but…” She paused. “He is used to being in a woman’s presence now. He can sometimes forget himself.” Nallei fell silent once more, then said, “Why were you so anxious about those two who came with you? Their fate isn’t anything that should concern you.”

I was suddenly wary. I had told much to Arvil and had grown closer to him than I had intended. I remembered how he had held me, how I had let him press his mouth on mine. I had been thinking of Laissa then, but also of him, and my confusion had kept me from resisting him at first. I didn’t know what Nallei would think of Arvil; although I longed to pour out my story to her, I held back.

“They have been friends,” I said carefully, “as much my friends as a man and a boy could be. Arvil saved me from harm. I wanted to show some gratitude, that’s all.”

“I see.”

“But I want to know about you, how you came here.”

Nallei rose, went to one of the baskets, and took out a jar and two earthen cups. As she sat down, she handed me a cup and then poured. I lifted my cup and tasted the sweetness of berries. The drink warmed me; I realized it was a kind of wine.

As I drank, Nallei told me of her life.

She had been expelled in the summer. She did not tell me where her city lay. She had not been forced to brave the storms of winter, and after walking through an empty land for three days, she had reached a shrine. By then, she was out of food and water. She had been prepared to die there alone, and then two men entered the shrine.

They saw what she was immediately. She was wearing light garments, and her body even then was too rounded to be concealed by her clothes. The two men hunted for her, and when she was strong enough to travel, took her with them to their band.

“Their camp,” she continued, “was even more primitive than this one. They lived by following herds, and I worried that other tribes might find out about me, even though this band had sworn to protect me. But I listened to their stories, and learned that other bands lived in different ways. I told them I could stay among them only for a short time, and they sent out scouts to learn of other bands or places where I might live as a Holy One should.”

By the end of summer, one of the scouts had heard a story of the lake bands from a traveler, of how the men of the lake lived far from shrines and built walls around their camps. Nallei, thinking of the hardships winter would bring, decided to chance the journey and to see what the lake bands might offer. She spoke to the band that had cared for her, extracted a promise that they would, now that she had lived among them, no longer travel to shrines, and then she and three of the strongest men had set off for the lake.

Nallei paused for a moment. I sipped my wine, then said, “That band will die out. If they can’t go to a shrine to be called, they’ll have no more boys, and then…”

“I knew that. It’s not my concern. They think they’ll be honored in the next world. If they die out and can’t betray me, so much the better.” She looked sharply at me. “You show more concern for them than you should.”

I denied this as forcefully as possible. I saw then how much she still despised men, even after being among them for so long.

She poured more berry wine and went on with her tale. After a long journey and after many hardships, which she did not detail, she and her companions finally reached the land by the lake. One of the men had met his death at the hands of one of the others some days earlier; Nallei did not tell me why, but I guessed that by that time they might have come to some disagreement over her. Perhaps one had longed for her as Arvil had longed for me.

The two surviving men had been weakened by the trip; weak as they were, they still gave Nallei the greatest share of the little food they were able to find. As they pressed on, one of these men at last lay down on the frosty ground to die and asked for Nallei’s prayers. Not long after, when Nallei’s own despair made her almost ready to give up, she and the surviving man reached Yerlan’s camp. The journey had robbed that man of the last of his strength, and he died three days later.

“You see, it worked out well for me,” Nallei said. “No one was left alive who could reveal that I had come here.” Her voice held contempt, and her coldness disturbed me. I had seen the vileness and ugliness of men but had observed other qualities as well. Even my short time with Arvil’s old band had given me a bit of sympathy for them, much as some of their ways repelled me. Nallei had lived with a band for a season and three of its members had died bringing her to a safer place. She had lived among men for years and yet seemed to have no compassion for any of them. I repressed these thoughts. I had not lived outside for as long as she had; I could not judge her. Whatever she felt, she was still one of my kind.

A feast had been held, and she had dwelled in the Prayergiver’s house until a hut was built for her on the island. At Nallei’s command, the band also began to bar their camp to others and were told that they no longer had to visit the Lady’s shrines.

Nallei soon learned enough about the band to realize that the other men of the lake would have to be dealt with, and so this band was prepared when the Headmen of those other tribes came to their wall. Knowing that Prayergivers would never leave their camps again and so could not betray her, she ordered the band to summon those old men. The Prayergivers were taken to the island, and there Nallei revealed herself while the Prayergivers swore that they would not speak of what they had seen and would say only that they beheld a holy vision.

Even then, Nallei feared that she might not be safe, that some word of her existence would find its way back to the cities. But as the years passed, her worries faded. Her band, which now sought its boys from neighboring bands, would continue to serve her.

“One thing keeps me alive,” she said, “knowing that I live in spite of what my city condemned me to.” She sounded like my mother then.

She had told me her story, but some of my questions were still unanswered. How had she lived among men for so long without provoking their lust, as Arvil told me I had with his former band? I thought of how Yerlan had handled me. I could not have misread his expression, and Nallei’s full breasts and lovely face should have attracted him even more. How did she control him? What was her life like here from day to day, and how did she pass the time? How much had she revealed to the men, and how much had she kept hidden? There was no point in asking this; I would find out soon enough.

I finished another cup of wine; the beverage was making me giddy. “I had to take off my clothes in front of the Prayergiver who brought me here,” I said. “I had to take them off here, too.” A mirthless giggle escaped me. “Who would have thought taking your clothes off could produce such reactions?”

She chuckled. “You should have seen the Prayergivers when they beheld me in this hut.” She threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, holiness! Oh, Sacred One! Oh, how blessed are we!”

She slapped the ground. I laughed, and then tears came, and then I was huddling next to her, sobbing against her chest.

“Birana,” she murmured. “It’s over, I’ll make sure that you never go through that again.” She dried my face gently with her sleeve. “I’d like to hear your story, but we both need to rest now.”

She led me to the mat. I lay down on her furs and she stretched out beside me. For a moment, I thought she might want some love from me, since she had been without it for so long, but instead she held me as a mother might hold a small child.

 

 

In the morning, while Nallei still slept, I gathered up the cups and jar we had drunk from the night before, intending to wash them by the lake. I lifted the hide hanging in the doorway and stepped outside.

A man was climbing the trail toward me. “Holy One!” he called out as he bowed. “Is there anything You wish of me?”

I shook my head. “I require nothing. I am only going to wash these.”

He bowed again, shook back his dark hair, and held out his hands. “I shall do that for You, Holy One.” I let him have the cups and jar, then began to explore my new home alone.

The island was in a bay; north of the bay, the lake still stretched on, with no shore visible. I came to a cove at the island’s northern end; I might be able to swim here because the cove was hidden from the camp. I continued to walk, climbing over the rocks and moving through the reeds near the water’s edge, until I had nearly circled the island.

A boat lay on the shore facing the camp. In the distance, men were already gathering in the clearing. Below, near the boat, a man sat on a flat rock, dangling his legs over the water. A twig cracked under my feet; he jumped up.

“Holy One,” he said as he bowed. “Is there anything You wish?”

“No.”

He stared at me. He had a boy’s face and a mass of short but curly red hair. “I would be happy to lead You around this island.”

“I’ve seen most of it already. It isn’t that large.”

“I shall fetch You food and prepare it if You wish. I shall light Your fire for You. I shall…”

“Stay where you are,” I said, suddenly irritated.

He turned away, crestfallen. I walked back up to the hut and went inside.

Nallei was awake but seemed groggy from the wine. She sat up slowly and pushed a fur aside. “The fire’s out,” she said. “Call one of the men to light it and ask him to make us some tea.”

“I’ll light it myself.” I went outside, gathered some wood, then went back inside. As I knelt, I took out my flints.

“Where did you get those?” Nallei asked.

“From a dead man.”

“Sounds as though you have a story to tell, girl.”

“I do.” I held tinder in my hands and blew gently on the spark until it became a flame, then lighted the wood. While the fire burned, Nallei fetched a waterskin, a pouch of herbs, and two more cups. Tulan’s band had made tea for me during their feast, and I had watched them. I waited until the stones around the fire were hot, covered my fingers with part of my leather sleeve, plucked out two small stones, and put them in the cups to warm the water. I sprinkled herbs into the cups, waited for them to steep, then handed one cup to Nallei.

She sipped. In the light of the fire, with more light entering the hut through the opening in the roof, Nallei seemed older than she had looked the night before. Two tiny creases were on either side of her wide, full mouth, and her thick black lashes did not hide the lines around her large hazel eyes. Strands of silver were in her long, black hair, and the skin of her neck and chin sagged just a little. She was beautiful still but beginning to age. I gripped my cup. She should not have been aging so soon; she should have had years of youth still. But her youth would pass quickly here with nothing to renew it. I would begin to age.

“You needn’t do this sort of work yourself,” she said. “The men will serve you.”

“I don’t want them to serve me. I must have something to do.”

“You shouldn’t be too reckless, Birana. Serving us is an honor for them, and it underlines our place. You wouldn’t want them to lose respect for you.”

“I don’t see how they can lose their respect if they see that we know some of their arts.” I sat back on my heels. “You must have mastered some of them after all this time.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t had to do much. Oh, I know about their ways, but I hardly have to hunt or fish or gather plants. They’re happy to do all of that.”

I gazed at her, annoyed; I had been hoping to pick up a few skills from her. “You’ll have to tell me everything you know of them,” I said at last.

“I shall, but I thought I would hear your story this morning.”

Of course she would want to hear it; she had probably heard no new tales for some time. I finished my tea. As I spoke, I sensed that it might not be wise to let her know how much I had told Arvil. From the way the men treated Nallei, I guessed that she had told them little about us. She might see Arvil as a danger if she knew what I had told him; she might turn others in the band against him or find a way to be rid of him. I told her of what had happened to us, but nothing of what had passed between Arvil and me, and he became in my story only a young man who worshipped me, and who had sworn to bring me to a safe place. I said little about Arvil’s old band and nothing at all about how he had been commanded to kill me.

I had wanted to be completely open with Nallei. It hurt me to feel that I should conceal a few events from her, that it was necessary to shade the truth. It hurt more to relive my mother’s death.

“That’s quite a story,” Nallei said when I had finished. “It’s remarkable that you survived at all.”

“Without Arvil, I couldn’t have,” I replied. “You can see why I tried to learn as much from him as I could. If he hadn’t shown me how to use a sling…” I waved one hand.

“I’m sorry about your mother. I wish she could have been here with both of us.” She lowered her eyelids. “But at least she didn’t have to endure certain kinds of suffering.”

I wiped at my eyes. “She was so sure there was a refuge for us. It was only that hope that kept her alive even for a few days.”

“You have a refuge here, but never forget that our lives hang by a thread. I still worry that we might be betrayed somehow.”

I shivered. “There was another sort of refuge my mother sought. She imagined a place of several women, perhaps a community, not just one or two survivors.”

“All I’ve heard tells me there is no such place.”

“There are abandoned lands east of the lake. Maybe there…”

She shook her head. “There’s no refuge there.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I heard it from the men. A long time ago, apparently when men first came to this lake and settled here, a band that had gone to those eastern lands attacked one of the camps. They killed most of the men and carried off the youngest of the boys. They didn’t go to shrines, you see, so the only way they could add to their numbers was by capturing young boys and raising them. The lake bands made a truce after that, and then went east and killed every man of that band they could find. No one has ever attacked from the east again, but it’s said the easternmost band along the lake still keeps watch over the east.”

I was silent.

“No one can live there, Birana. There are no shrines, so the men can’t be called. Any woman who found her way there wouldn’t know how to live alone. You would find no one there.” She patted my hand. “Don’t look so solemn, child. Life here won’t be so bad for you. We’ll be as safe as we can be anywhere.”

 

 

I spent the following days in the simple tasks of preparing the food the men brought to us, keeping the hut clean, and listening to Nallei tell me about the customs of this band, which except for her presence among them and the changes she had brought, seemed much like those of Tulan’s old band.

Yerlan, the Headman, led the men. He consulted with Nallei from time to time, but she had learned to leave most of the decisions to him except for those matters that concerned her directly. She had seen that the band would need to bring in new members occasionally and had ordered that boys be fetched from the other lake bands. She could not prevent the deaths of older or weaker band members; the men had noted that, but believed that their souls, having seen her in this world, would be blessed in the next.

Every month if weather permitted, during the first night of the full moon, Nallei was taken across to the camp to preside over a ceremony and to hear the Prayergiver’s prayers in his hut. Only twice, before my arrival, had strangers come to this camp from other regions. The first group of three men had passed through a truthsaying and joined Yerlan’s men, and only then had Nallei been brought to the camp for them to see. Two other men had appeared there a few years later, but she had never seen them. She later found out that they had raised doubts about their virtue and courage during their truthsaying and had been killed. She had told the band to bring no strangers into the camp after that, but to speak to them only beyond the wall.

She told me much about the band, and yet most of her talk was of what the men had told her or had revealed during their various feasts and festivals. Except for her ceremonial function, Nallei was not really part of the band’s life but lived apart. In her early years, to stave off boredom, she had often asked the men to take her to the camp, where she would watch as the gardeners went about their tasks, the boys tested themselves in contests, and the hunters returned with their game. Sometimes the men took her out on the water in their boats, though they never ventured far from the bay. The novelty of these pursuits wore off, and after a while Nallei kept to her island. She now eased her boredom with jars and skins of the wines the men made from berries and other fruits and plants, making sure that the men gave her an ample supply.

I learned to do each task I set myself with deliberation, making the work last as long as possible so that empty hours did not stretch ahead of me. I drew out Nallei in conversation; our talks could continue for some time with little being said. I explored every part of the island on foot until I seemed to know the place of every rock and shrub, but the island was small, and soon I was arranging large stones along the sides of the trail simply to have something to do.

At first, the men tried to help me with the stones until I made it clear I did not want their aid. Two men, and sometimes three, were always on the island. They would remain for two or three days, and then another boat arrived to replace them with two or three others. Each time a boat came, I went down to the water’s edge, hoping that Arvil might be among the men, and was surprised at the depth of my disappointment when he was not. I supposed that guarding us was an honor, and that such a privilege might not be given to a newcomer, even if he was considered my messenger. I was afraid to ask for Arvil, not knowing if others might resent that; I also wondered how Nallei might react to him. I had watched one evening as the men assembled in their clearing, had caught a glimpse of Arvil’s blond hair as he was led before Yerlan; the two guarding me had told me that Arvil was making his pledge. He was one of the band now; he would be safe.

In all Nallei’s talk about the infrequent highlights of her restricted life, I began to feel that she might be concealing as much from me as I was from her. Occasionally, when she spoke of some ceremony, she would break off and discuss something else, instead of elaborating as she usually did. Once in a while, I wondered what she might be hiding.

 

 

A morning came, after I had been on the island for nearly two weeks, when I thought of the endless day ahead and could hardly bring myself to stir from the mat. Summer weather had come; we had put away the furs. I had to do something different that day, something more than marking time.

I roused Nallei, made us breakfast, and then announced that we were going to take a walk together. She grumbled as I led her outside. “It’s too hot to walk.”

“You need the exercise. You get none at all. We’ll walk down to the water, and then we’ll swim. I’m tired of washing in the hut.”

She muttered complaining words under her breath. “Don’t you know how to swim?” I asked.

“I can swim. I haven’t for years. We could catch a chill, you know. One has to be careful here.”

“All the more reason to build up your strength.”

We walked down the slope until we came to the northern cove. One of the men was walking along the shore; he hurried over to us. “Holy Ones,” he called out, “is there anything You wish?”

I shook my head. “We wish to be alone here. Go back to your boat until I call you.”

When he had hastened away, I took off my clothes quickly. “Come on, Nallei. You’ll feel better after a swim.”

“You’re my only friend, and you insist on tormenting me.”

“Don’t be silly.”

She sighed as she took off her garments. Her waist was still small, but her large breasts had begun to sag, and her long, slender legs were growing flabby. We entered the water together. The lake seemed cold at first, but the sun was already warming the shallower water in the cove. She splashed about awkwardly but soon her strokes grew more graceful as she paddled around me. I swam back and forth, then out to deeper water and back until I was panting.

Our two guards suddenly appeared on the hill above us. “Lady, Lady!” one cried as they descended. “You must be careful!”

“Do you think that We cannot move safely on water?” I shouted. “Go back to your boat and don’t disobey Me again.” I waited, treading water, until I was certain they were gone, then left the water to stretch out on one of the flat rocks.

Nallei lay on a rock below me. “Those men had better keep away,” she murmured. “When I used to come here, the bolder ones would sometimes try to sneak up to watch.”

I lifted my head, but heard nothing, and hoped the two would be too intimidated to try anything like that. “We’ll come here every day we can,” I said as the sun warmed me. This time, Nallei did not protest.

 

 

My monthly time came and passed. Nallei showed me how to use pieces of soft hide she kept for this purpose and how to clean them. The full moon arrived. I expected to be taken with Nallei to the Prayergiver’s hut and was longing for that change in our routine, but a wild storm raged over the lake that night. We remained in our hut while the men celebrated their rites without us.

Now it was Nallei who urged me down to the cove to swim. Her body was growing browner and firmer. I wanted her to grow healthier and stronger, not just for her sake, but for mine; I feared being left alone.

At last I summoned one of the guards. Out of Nallei’s hearing, I asked him a few questions about Arvil and Tulan. Tulan had proven himself in a few contests with other boys and was making friends; he had already accompanied some of the men on a hunt. Arvil was learning various new skills, such as fishing from a boat and making the clay pots the band fired in a pit, but it was clear that hunting was his most useful skill. Both had continued to care for the three horses, which most of the men avoided, although Tulan was teaching two of the boys to ride. Arvil, it was said, was also trying to learn about healing from one of the older men.

The young guard told me little else, and that night, I awoke from a dream. I could not recall much of the dream, which was fading in my mind even as I struggled into consciousness, but Arvil had been part of it. I suddenly felt a longing for his presence that was so sharp I started, nearly awakening Nallei.

I kept still until her even breathing returned. Now that she was drinking less wine, she no longer tossed restlessly or cried out in her sleep. Somehow, in the dream, I had felt that Arvil was lying at my side, his hand on my arm protectively. I realized how much I missed him then, even with Nallei’s company, and decided to find an excuse to go to the camp.

 

 

I woke up later than usual, then found I was alone. I went outside, but Nallei was nowhere in sight. She did not return to our hut until I had finished preparing our tea.

“Where were you?” I asked as she entered. “Are you swimming so early now?”

Her face seemed troubled as she sat down; she shook her head as I held out a cup. “I had to speak to the men. I want them to give a message to one of those who will replace them.” She paused. “I think you should go to the camp today. We need more clothing. You can ask the men to show you some hides.”

She must have sensed my wish. “You’ll come with me, won’t you? I don’t know if I could speak to them alone.”

“You ought to learn, then. I can’t go with you, Birana. Stay there for the day and come back in the evening. Remember, Yerlan is the leader, and he’s proud, so be sure to speak with him if he’s there.” Her voice was flat; she refused to look at me.

“Nallei, what’s wrong?”

Her smile seemed forced. “There are matters I must attend to here.” She did not explain what they were, and I felt I should not ask.

I dressed in one of her shirts; it was too loose on me and I put my belt over it, pulling it in at the waist. After combing out my hair with my fingers, I put on a necklace of colored stones one of the men had made for her.

As I was about to step outside, I turned. “I could wait until you’re finished with whatever you have to do, and we could go together.”

She shook her head violently. “Go!”

I hurried outside and descended the trail. Another boat was approaching the island. The two men on shore greeted the arrivals in their own tongue, then helped me into their boat. Three men had come to the island; as my boat left the shore, one of the three began to climb toward Nallei’s hut.

“Honor is his,” the man behind me said in the holy speech.

“May we be so honored again,” the second man replied.

I paid little attention to them. I might see Arvil soon, and that thought made me happier than I had expected to be. I hoped that he was not out with a hunting party, and that he would want to speak to me. The thought that he might not, that he was with men now and could form new friendships, suddenly lowered my spirits.

When the boat had landed below the camp, other men carried the litter to me. I seated myself, and they bore me to the clearing. Several men were seated in front of dwellings, working at spear joints and shaping arrows; Arvil was not among them.

“Holy One!” the Headman called out as he left his house. He bowed as he came near; even from the height of my litter, he was an imposing figure. “I pray that You will smile upon us,” he continued. “If there is anything You wish, You need only ask it of us.”

I smiled at him as kindly as I could, and he beamed, as though I had given him a great gift. I realized he was younger than he had seemed at first; he could not have been much past childhood when he had become the leader. Nallei had warned me about his pride, and for one so young to be made a Headman had to mean that he was one I should treat carefully; he had been chosen over older, more experienced men.

“I would speak to you, Yerlan,” I said, sensing that if I asked for Arvil immediately, he might be offended. My litter was set down in front of the Prayergiver’s house; the old man hobbled out to greet me, bowed, murmured a few words, and then left us.

Yerlan seated himself in front of me. “He will continue to pray,” he said. “You see that we are greedy for Your blessings, Lady, and continue to pray for more.” He raised a hand to his forehead in a gesture of respect. Necklaces of bead and stone hung around his neck, but his chest was bare; the light brown hair on his head was thick, yet his chest was smooth and the fair hair on his arms had been bleached by the sun. I was ill at ease with him; fortunately he kept his eyes lowered. “What is it You wish, Holy One?”

“My companion and I need more clothing. I would see what hides you have for Us.”

He shouted to others in the lake language, and several men were soon carrying hides to me. An older man came with them; he peered at me intently and summoned a boy who was close to my own height and size.

“I would be honored to make garments for You,” the older man said as he measured my form with his eyes.

“Do so,” I replied, pointing to two of the hides. The man quickly took the boy aside and began to measure the hides against him.

“Tell Me of your band’s activities during the past days, Headman,” I said. Yerlan spoke of their food stores and of their preparations for the harder seasons of fall and winter; unlike Irlan, he still hunted with his men. I waited in vain for him to speak of Arvil and was soon searching the clearing for a sign of him as Yerlan droned on, emphasizing his own prowess as a hunter and leader.

As he paused for breath, I said quickly, “You have done well. I am pleased.”

He gazed into my face, then lowered his eyes to my chest, and I had a sudden impulse to cover myself with one of the hides on which I was sitting. I could not let him see my fear. “It is said that My messenger Arvil is now one of you,” I continued.

He scowled for a moment before composing himself. “It is so. He is Arvil no more, but Vilan, one of the men of the lake.”

I wanted to speak to Arvil then but was afraid to ask for him immediately; instead, I asked Yerlan to summon Tulan.

The boy was soon running toward me, trailed by a few other lads. He knelt at my feet, his face aglow while his friends watched him enviously. I asked him about the horses, and he assured me they were well, that he exercised them every day, and that he and Arvil had found ways to use them as beasts of burden. “But some,” he finished, “have complained about the stink of their wastes.”

“They should not. Take those wastes when they are dry and mix them with the soil of the fallow garden. They’ll help to restore the soil.” I nodded at Tulan. “You have done well. Now I would see My messenger.”

Yerlan’s mouth tightened. Tulan scurried to one of the dwellings and beckoned to those inside by the entrance. Arvil emerged and walked toward me, head lowered; I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me or not. He bowed to Yerlan and then to me.

“I would ride with My messenger for a time,” I announced. Yerlan was still smiling, but his face darkened a little. “And after that, I will share a meal with you, Yerlan, in your dwelling, with you and the men closest to you.”

The Headman got to his feet as I stood. “I will have You carried to the horses, Lady.”

I shook my head. “I shall walk.”

I felt Yerlan’s eyes upon us as I followed Arvil. The horses had been tethered to a tree just beyond the circle of dwellings. Flame nuzzled me as I stroked her head. As I mounted, Arvil murmured, “I thought you had put me from your mind.”

“I didn’t forget. I wanted to see you before.” I patted Flame and murmured to her soothingly as he mounted Star. “I was afraid that if I asked for you to be one of my guards, I might offend Yerlan somehow. My companion tells me he’s a proud man.”

“That is so, and it’s Yerlan who chooses those who are sent to the island, but your companion is free to ask for others as well.”

“Then I’ll ask for you,” I said.

He glanced at me from the corners of his eyes. “It would be better to let Yerlan choose me. He’s a man who seeks to be higher than others in the Lady’s thoughts.”

The horses trotted along the pathway between the gardens. “We must stay near the wall, where the men can see you,” he said. I sighed. Honored I might be, but I was a prisoner as well; I wondered if these men would ever allow me to leave them.

We rode through the opening in the wall; the guards watched as the horses slowed their pace. We were far enough from them to talk without being overheard. “Birana,” Arvil said, “have you been happy here?”

“I have a new friend. The men bring us everything we need.” I shook back my hair. “But the days are long with so little for me to do.”

“Is the other one kind to you?”

“She’s been kind, but she doesn’t know how much I’ve told you. I don’t want you harmed, and I’m afraid she might think you’re a danger if she realizes how much you know. It seems she’s told these men little of the truth.”

“You may be wise,” he replied. “There’s a mystery about her, and no one speaks of it to me. Sometimes men are called to her, and all long for this more than anything. During their rite of the full moon, it is said that Yerlan is taken to the island. I saw his anger when she could not come to the camp this time, although he tried to hide it. No one will tell me of the rite—I am told only that I will learn of it in time.” I thought of how evasive Nallei had seemed with me.

We had come to this end of the wall and turned back to retrace our tracks. “Perhaps,” he went on, “it is her beauty that makes her spell on them so strong. She’s like the spirit-women I remember.”

I felt a twinge. Maybe I no longer seemed as beautiful to him; there was another to compare me to now. I was surprised at how much this disturbed me; I didn’t want to talk of Nallei any more. “Tell me of how you’ve passed your time,” I said.

He had hunted with the men; he was now learning some of the healing arts from a man named Wirlan, arts most of the band had not mastered. “There is one plant,” he said, “that brings an ecstasy to the soul, but Wirlan told me I must not drink of the potion the men brew with it. Once this band used it for certain rites of prayer, but now it is drunk only by those summoned into the Lady’s presence.”

“I suppose that accounts for some of her spell,” I muttered, as I reined in Flame. “Arvil, I must find something to do. It’s wearying to have every need met with little effort on my part.”

“I understand. Every man needs his tasks.”

“And so do women. I should learn the language of these men.”

“I could teach it to you. I’m learning it quickly now.”

“And I should know other things,” I said, “more about hunting, how to gather plants, how to use a spear and bow. I’m helpless now.”

“These men can protect you, Birana. You wouldn’t need to know such lore unless you were planning to leave this camp. It seems this isn’t enough for you, that the new friend you have found is not enough, that you still dream of another refuge.” He spoke softly, but a vein near his temple stood out. “I have new friends here, and learn new arts, and know that you are safe, and yet you would leave that behind. And I would be bound to follow you.”

“I wouldn’t ask…”

“How could I not follow? My soul still burns.”

I lowered my head. “My companion says that she knows of no refuge except this one, and I must learn much before I can chance leaving this camp.” I paused. “Is there anyone here you can love?” I asked. Is there one, I thought, who can give you what you can never have from me?

“Wirlan is kind, but he treats me as his charge. There are a few men of some beauty who have sought pleasures with me. Would that I could grant them, but instead I think of you.” His voice was hard. “And have you sought love with your new friend?”

I shook my head. “She doesn’t seem to want love. She also treats me as a charge.” He gazed at me intently. “I’ll have to find a way for you to teach me certain skills,” I said quickly. “I may never need them, but I must have some way of passing the time.”

“I’ll hope for that, so that I can be with you.”

We rode back to the open space. Yerlan was sitting outside his dwelling, clearly anxious for me to join him and his men. He leaped to his feet as Arvil and I dismounted. “Our food is prepared,” the Headman said. “I would have Vilan join us, for I see that his company is pleasing to You.” His mouth twitched a little.

Before I could reply, Arvil spoke. “If you order this,” he replied, “I shall honor your wish. But the Lady has already graced me with Her words as we rode, and it isn’t fitting that I join such worthy men while they dine with Her.”

“My servant speaks truly,” I said.

Yerlan smiled. Arvil seemed relieved and led the horses away, while the Headman guided me inside his house.

 

 

Yerlan’s men had prepared deer, eggs, fish, and vegetables. Because I did not want to demean his hospitality, I ate as much as I could. We sat on mats around the hearth while the men entertained me with legends of their band—stories of a hunter whose skill was so great that the Lady came to hunt with him; of a gardener who learned a spell that could make a seed grow into a plant that reached the sky in one day and upon which he climbed to the moon; and of a small boy who healed an injured eagle and was carried by that bird to the Lady’s realm. Throughout these narratives, I felt Yerlan studying me and could not meet his eyes.

Later, I was carried to the gardens to see what grew there, and then some of the boys held a contest with spears, which Tulan won.

Yerlan and the Prayergiver sat with me during this contest. When it was over, the Headman leaned toward me. “The full moon will come again,” he murmured; I wondered why he was stating this obvious fact. “I shall come to the island on the day after the full moon appears, as I always do. Since You have come among us, Holy One, I have prayed that You will honor me.”

His dark eyes were fierce. My voice caught in my throat. He continued to stare at me until I said, “I thank you for all you have shown Me today, but I would return to My companion now.” His lip curled a little. For a moment, I was sure he had seen how frightened I was of him.

 

 

Near the island, a small flock of ducks was feeding among the reeds. The men, Nallei had told me, did not hunt the ducks when they came there, since they were considered under her protection. The three men who had come that morning were sitting by the rocks near their boat. One lifted his head and stared at me as I stepped ashore.

I hurried up to the hut, certain that Nallei would want to hear about my time in the camp. The inside of the hut was dark; the fire had gone out. I lifted the hide across the doorway and looped it over the pole that held it so that the setting sun could provide a little light.

Nallei stirred. She was sprawled on the mat; a leather shirt covered her body. Two empty jugs lay on their sides near her. She had been drinking again, probably for much of the day.

I leaned over her. “Nallei.”

She started up and threw a hand over her eyes, then clutched at the shirt. “No!”

I knelt. “Nallei, what’s the matter?”

She shook her head, then buried her face in her arms. Her shoulders shook; I thought I heard a sob. I reached for her shoulder, but she shied away. “You were drinking,” I said. “It’s no wonder you feel this way. The men brought us some wild strawberries. I’ll have them carry them up here. We can…”

“Get away from me.”

I got our fire burning again and sat near it while she slept, then laid a hide next to the fire. I slept uneasily that night, getting up occasionally to be sure Nallei was covered and to feel her brow. I worried that she might be ill but felt no fever.

She was better in the morning. She accepted a cup of tea and listened as I told her of my time in the camp, but said nothing until I had finished.

“I should apologize to you,” she said at last. “It was the wine that made me so irrational. I just want you to know…” She held out a hand. “You’ll be safe, Birana. I’ll see to it.”

“But what…”

“Enough! I’ve said what I have to say.” Her tone cowed me into silence. “It’s time for us to go to the cove.”

 

 

The time of the full moon came once more, and Nallei grew solemn as she prepared for her journey to the camp. She sat passively as I combed out her dark hair with my fingers and trimmed the curls around her face with a sharp stone. The sun had given her face a golden glow and the skin over her cheekbones was tighter, while her body was firmer from her swimming.

“You are beautiful, Nallei,” I told her.

She grimaced. “Beauty’s useless here.” She picked up a deerskin shirt and pulled it over her head, then hung a necklace of feathers around her neck.

“I’ll wear this one.” I picked up a shirt that had been made for me.

Nallei pulled on a pair of leather pants, then straightened. “You’re not going with me, Birana.”

“But I thought…”

“You’re not going. This is something I must do alone. The men will be told that your duty is to commune with invisible aspects of the Lady during this time. They’ll believe me.”

“But why…”

She grabbed my arm, twisting its flesh so hard that it hurt. “You’ll do as I say. I’ll decide things here.”

“Very well,” I muttered resentfully. I had hoped I might see Arvil in the camp, but knew there would be little time to speak to him during a ceremony, and tried not to feel too disappointed.

Nallei had drunk half a jar of wine by the time the men came for her; I wondered how she would stay awake while the Prayergiver prayed before her in his hut. Her voice was fuzzy and slightly slurred as she told the men why I would be remaining on the island. I watched as she walked with our guards toward the boat; the distant camp was already ablaze with torches.

I was now completely alone on the island for the first time, for the guards would remain in the camp until these ceremonies were over. I hurried to the cove, delighted at the chance to swim and lie on the rocks without worrying that a man might try to glimpse me there. Perhaps Nallei had sensed that I might want this time alone; I was grateful to her then, sorry that I had tried to argue with her.

It was dark when I returned to the hut. From across the bay, I heard the songs as the men chanted. I set wood on the fire, ate my supper, and sipped some of the wine Nallei had left. As the wine warmed me, I found myself wishing that I had asked for Arvil to be sent here now; we might have spoken freely with no one to overhear us. I could have shown him the cove.

I shook myself. It would have been mad to take him away from a ceremony of such importance to these men. The wine was going to my head. I closed my eyes and imagined that Arvil was with me, sitting with me by the fire. I seemed to feel his hand on my arm. I remembered how he had looked at me, how he had pressed his lips on mine, how I had felt for a moment.

My eyes shot open. I clutched at my belly, afraid I might be sick. I had felt some longing for him in that instant. I heard his voice as he spoke of the images in shrines, of the pleasures I might show him, and nearly cried out. I hated myself as I struggled with my thoughts; my time among men was making me unnatural, perhaps even insane. I had to root out this sickness, destroy it before Arvil saw me again.

I crawled toward the mat and stretched out until sleep came to me.

 

 

I tried to keep busy during the next day, but by afternoon, my solitude was growing oppressive. I cleaned out the hut, rearranged our belongings, aired out the hides we used on the mat. I could not keep still, afraid that if I did, more disturbing thoughts would come to me. I cleared the hearth of ashes; as I carried more wood inside, I heard voices out on the lake.

It was nearly evening. I lit a fire, cleaned my hands, then stood by the door, ready to greet Nallei and hear of the ceremony.

Yerlan soon appeared on the trail below; he was carrying a torch. A short, dark-haired man was at his side; he had dined with me in Yerlan’s dwelling, and now he carried a basket. Nallei walked behind them; as she looked up at me, I saw the strain on her face.

The shorter man set down his basket, then bowed. “I greet you,” I said, feeling that they expected some words from me. “I rejoice to see My companion again.”

Yerlan’s mouth tightened. I could not look at him and turned quickly toward Nallei. She swallowed; her eyes stared past me.

“Fellow aspect,” she said, “go from here to Our cove, and commune there with the unseen spirits. You shall be summoned later. It is Yerlan I must summon now.”

I stepped back, apprehensive at the look in her eyes. She and Yerlan clearly had important matters to discuss.

“Go!” she shouted. I stepped back as she went inside. Yerlan set his torch in the ground, then followed her.

I began to walk down toward the cove. The other man was following me. I spun around. “Leave Me.”

“Holy One.” He bowed, pressing his fingers to his forehead. “I am here to serve You.”

“Go back to your boat.”

I came to the cove and sat down on a rock. The night spread slowly across the bay; the disk of the moon sailed on the black, calm waters. I sat there for a long time, waiting for someone to call me, wondering what business Nallei had with Yerlan. At last I got up. Their talk might concern me, and what happened in this camp was now my business. I had been learning how to tread over the ground silently and had surprised Nallei a couple of times; I would test myself and see if I could overhear part of their discussion. Nallei was keeping secrets from me; I did not think of those I had kept from her.

I crept cautiously up the slope toward our hut, circling around until I was among the trees overlooking it. I moved silently past the ditch, then hunkered down in a dark place under the trees where I could see the door. Yerlan’s torch had nearly burned out; there was no sound from the hut.

The hide hanging in front of the door was suddenly lifted. I held my breath as Yerlan came out. He was bare to the waist; he reached down to adjust his belt. He threw his shirt over his shoulder and stumbled down along the trail as if intoxicated.

When he was gone, I hurried to the door and peered inside. The fire was burning low. Nallei lay on the mat, one arm flung over her eyes. Two empty jugs lay by the hearthstones. Nallei was naked. I stared at the disordered hides around her, at her bare, golden skin, at the tiny bruises fingers had made on her thighs.

I nearly screamed. I ran from the hut, heedless of the tree limbs that slashed at my face as I stumbled down the hill. When I was above the cove, my chest began to heave; I retched until my stomach was empty.

My feet carried me toward the rocks. I knelt to wash my face. I would leave this place, ride out on Flame and never return. I would not let the men stop me; I did not care where I went. I could swim out into the bay until I was too far from the island to swim back, then let the waters of the lake close over my head.

“Holy One,” a voice said.

I turned, startled. Yerlan’s companion was walking down the slope toward me. “Holy One,” he repeated as he came to the rocks. “The Headman has passed through the holy state and now sleeps soundly in the joy of that blessing. He sent me to guide You back to Your house.”

I got to my feet and stumbled toward him. My arms flew out as I struck him hard with my fists. He did not hit back but cowered as I punched at him. I wanted to hurt him, to hurt all of his kind; my nails bit into his arms.

“Lady!” he cried.

I stepped back, struggling for control. “That’s so you will understand your place,” I gasped. “My kind could sweep you from the face of the earth.” Tears stung my eyes; I wiped them away.

“I have angered You with my evil thoughts. I cannot hide them from You. I dreamed of the holy state with You while Yerlan was with the other Holy One, saw You before me, thought of joining…”

I hit him again. “Forgive me, Holy One!”

I panted for breath. “Never think such thoughts again.”

“Yerlan will find out I’ve angered You. He will punish me.”

My anger was gone. I gazed down at this frightened man, despising him. “Yerlan won’t learn of this from Me,” I said at last. “Get away from Me now. Go back to your Headman.”

He scrambled up the hill as I sank to the ground.

 

 

I remained by the cove until the eastern sky was gray with light, then stood up and walked along the shore.

The men were sleeping by their boat. I prodded the dark-haired one with my foot; he sat up quickly. Yerlan slept on.

“Holy One,” the man whispered as he passed his hand protectively over his face.

“My companion and I have matters to attend to,” I said. “I do not want either you or the Headman to come anywhere near Our dwelling until We summon you. Do you understand?”

He nodded. “I shall offend You no more.”

I walked up the trail, took a deep breath, and entered the hut. Nallei was waking; she raised herself on one elbow and stared at me. I sat and stirred the embers of the fire with a stick, then put on more wood from our pile.

She said, “You know.”

I said nothing as I went through the motions of preparing tea. “Listen to me,” she went on. “I wanted to tell you before. I knew you would have to find out, but I couldn’t say it to you.”

“What you do is disgusting.”

“Keep your voice down. The men might hear.”

“I told them to stay where they are until we called them.” I picked up stones and put them into the cups. “So this is how you’ve lived, degrading yourself.”

“This is how I have survived.”

“And this is what I’ve come to.”

She sat up and pulled on her shirt. As she crawled toward me, I saw that her eyes were red and smelled the sour odor of wine on her breath. “When I came here,” she said, “I had to tell them they could no longer seek blessings in shrines, but they still wanted them. Some of the bolder ones were soon saying that I must have come here to give them such blessings. The mindspeakers have taught them that the Lady seeks their embrace and rejoices in it. They’ve been conditioned to long for and respond to a woman’s form and to want that even more than they want each other. Our cities have done their work all too well.”

My tea was nearly ready, but I could not swallow any.

“One day, a man came to my hut and tried to take me against my will. I called out, and his companion beat him so senseless for the deed that he died soon afterward, but I knew someone else might try the same thing and discover I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t change their impulses, I could only try to control them. Yerlan was one of those who was saying I had come to grant the band blessings. He became Headman two years after I came here. I knew I had to act then.”

“It was you who started the full moon ceremony,” I said.

“It was that, or finding a way for the healer Wirlan to bring me poison. I considered that—I could have told Wirlan that such poisons would have no power over me. But I couldn’t give up my life even then.”

She had been carried into the camp for the first ceremony, and there she had entered the Prayergiver’s hut and had joined with him. She had fortified herself with wine and even then the Prayergiver was too old to do much more than lie upon her. But Yerlan, as Headman, also expected to be summoned, and she had brought him back to the island. He had been quite different from the Prayergiver, strong and young and fueled by the potion he had drunk. Even the wine had not blurred the torment of meeting his demands.

Nallei soon realized that she would have to call others of the band from time to time. What had begun as an evil and sordid necessity soon gave her a stronger hold on the men. Those who had been called worshipped her all the more; those who had not could hope to win her favor.

“The wine dulls my senses,” she said. “The man drinks of the potion the healer prepares, and I become all women to him. The wine makes my mind rise from me until he is only touching a body while I watch from afar. It makes it easier to endure, and sometimes I can drink enough to forget.”

“It’s horrible,” I whispered.

“I’ll tell you what I hate most about them. I can no longer seek love with anyone and take pleasure from it. I couldn’t lie with you without thinking of them.”

I set down my cup. “I have to get away.” I glanced wildly around the hut. “They’ll expect the same thing from me.”

Her hand clutched my arm. “I told you that you’d be safe. I said at the ceremony that you would summon no man, that it’s your task to commune with spirits and not with them. I said this before all of them, so even Yerlan must be bound by it. He was angry, though he tried not to show it. His thoughts were turning to you, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. If he hurt you, his men would see that he suffered for it, and he knows that.”

I had despised her; now, I was moved by her. She had thought of protecting me from what she had endured, and I had not thought of her at all.

“It may be that fewer of the men will seek our blessing,” she said. “The younger ones, those who were boys when I came here or who were brought here from other camps, have never known these things. They want to be with me only because it’s an honor, but it’s other men they desire. They haven’t had the cities and shrines to instruct them. I’ve summoned few of them. They drink their potion, but only lie at my side and have no memory of what happened later.”

My gorge rose. “How could you do this?”

“I’m alive. One lives how one must, you foolish girl. You would have been forced to the same thing if you had been alone.”

I thought of Arvil’s old band and how they might have dealt with me, then remembered how I had imagined Arvil sitting with me in the dark of the hut. I had no right to condemn Nallei. She only endured the touch of a man, while I had, however fleetingly, responded to Arvil.

I drew up my legs and pressed my forehead against my knees, tormented by these thoughts, then raised my head. “But what do you allow… how do they…” I could hardly say the words. “You must have found some way to keep from having a child.”

Nallei picked up her cup of tea, swallowed a little, and set the cup down. “Surely you know how to chart your cycle, Birana. Women have to know when they’re most fertile and ready for the insemination of sperm. You must have learned how to use a scanner to detect the time when you’re ovulating. Here, I must use similar methods to avoid a pregnancy. I keep a bit of hide with me always, and chart the days of my cycle on it. I don’t have a scanner now, of course, but I can know when my fertile time comes and allow for it.” Her mouth twisted. “It doesn’t often happen that I have to endure a man during that time, but when it’s necessary, I find other ways to satisfy him.”

I pressed a hand against my mouth, not wanting to think about what those ways might be.

Nallei straightened. “You might as well hear the rest. You won’t despise me any more than you do already. I was as careful as I could be, but in spite of my precautions, I became pregnant ten years ago.”

“But the child…”

“There is no child. I aborted it. Do you understand? I couldn’t have a child here, couldn’t let them see.… As soon as I was sure, I aborted it. I had to use a stick. I began to hemorrhage; I thought I would die. Somehow I found the strength to bury it and sent one of the guards for Wirlan. He came and gave me some of his potions for three days. I told him that an evil spirit had struggled with me but that I had won over it, and then swore him to secrecy. He has never spoken of it since.”

This was more horrible than anything else she had said. I knew that in ancient times, when our biological sciences were not as advanced, abortions had occasionally been necessary, but none had been performed for centuries. Women chose a time to give birth; defects in newborns or fetuses had been eliminated long ago.

I thought of Nallei, alone here, of how helpless she must have felt when she realized her condition. No one could have helped her, not even the healer. She could not have given birth without showing the men the truth about their existence; she could not have raised the child here. She could not even know what sort of child it might have been, whether it would have been strong enough to live. I could not condemn her for this.

“I was even more careful after that,” she said, “and it never happened again. Now I think I must have destroyed my ability to have children. I couldn’t have borne them here, but I hate the men for that, too. I suppose I should be grateful that, in a few years’ time, my monthly bleeding will be past.”

I lifted my head. She had reminded me of how quickly we would age.

“Now you know about me,” she said. “Despise me if you must, but I’ve done what I can to keep you safe. And think of this as well. You found your way here—perhaps some other woman will. You spoke of finding another refuge, but it may be that you’ll have to create one here instead.” She paused. “If you can no longer bear to live with me, I’m sure that the men will build you another hut.”

I moved closer to her. “I won’t do that. If you hadn’t done as you did, there might not have been a safe place for me.” I put my arm around her. “You are my mother now.”

 

 

I knew I would have to go to the camp again, but the thought of doing so repelled me. I knew what the men had done to Nallei; I would understand their thoughts only too well when they looked at me. Yet I had to go to the camp to learn the skills I might need.

I did not speak of this to Nallei, but I had not given up hope of an escape. A stranger might come to the area outside the camp with some tale of a possible refuge. I could leave on horseback, and the band would be at a disadvantage if they followed me on foot. I did not plan to leave Nallei behind; I would find a way to take her with me. I could not believe that, with all she had suffered, she would not willingly leave this camp.

I rose one morning and announced to Nallei that I was going into the camp. I did not want to go, but it was becoming too easy to while away the days in swimming and talk, accompanied by jugs of wine. If I did not go to the camp soon, it would be difficult to bring myself to go at all.

I boarded a boat with one of the guards, commanding the other one to remain. The man with me protested when I sat in the prow and took up a paddle, but I silenced him. I had watched the men in their boats and was able to use the paddle, however awkwardly. My shoulders ached when we landed below the camp, but I refused to sit in the litter and walked up to the clearing. A boy fetched a mat for me; I sat down a few paces from the Prayergiver’s house.

“Where is your Headman?” I said to the boy.

“He rests, Holy One, for he returned with hunters only a short time ago.”

“I would speak to him.”

Yerlan was soon hastening toward me from his dwelling; he bowed and sat down. I tried not to think of what he had done to Nallei. Some of my guards on the island had often commented enviously on Yerlan’s handsome face and well-formed body, but I could see no beauty in him, only a man whose strength had made him brutal.

“It is My wish,” I said, “to spend some time with My messenger and to visit the land that lies around this camp. We shall ride out today.”

“It will be as You wish, Lady, but You would be safer here.”

“I shall be safe enough with My messenger.”

He scowled. “If any harm comes to You, he will pay for it.”

“And because you have shown Me such hospitality before,” I said, “I would dine with you and your hunters when I return.” I struggled to keep my bitterness and hatred for him out of my voice. “But I ask only that you give Me what you would eat by yourselves, and not a feast more suitable for a special occasion. The Lady is not well served if the band She honors takes food from other mouths to feed Her, for it is Her wish that your fine band has enough for all.”

He brightened at that, then sent one of his men to fetch Arvil, who, it seemed, was at the edge of the camp gathering herbs and plants with Wirlan. Another man was sent to speak to the sentries beyond the camp so that Yerlan could be certain no travelers were near.

We rode out from the camp on Flame and Star, keeping to the trail before leaving it to stop in a glade. “There are no sentries here,” Arvil said as we dismounted. “We can speak freely. There is something I must tell you.”

“What is it?”

His hands moved nervously over his bow. “The one who dwells with you… I know now what the ceremony of the full moon is. She…”

“I know what happened, Arvil.”

“She joins with Yerlan, and sometimes with others. She calls them to her, yet she said there is to be no joining for you. What does this mean?”

“She’s protecting me. That’s why she said that.”

“But you told me what would happen if I joined with you. Isn’t the same thing true for her?”

“There are ways…” I burst out before falling silent. I would be admitting that what I had told him about these matters was not entirely true. “She’s older,” I said at last. “She can have no children now. A man’s seed can no longer grow inside her.”

“But…”

“Why must you speak of this? Are you hoping she’ll call you? There’s no pleasure in it for her. She endures it because she must, but she hates the men for it as much as I would.”

He gazed at me steadily. “She is fair, but I don’t hope for that. You know who it is I long for, but if it cannot be, I can take comfort from knowing you are safe from others. I think of you lying with Yerlan or with other men, and I feel such rage that I would kill anyone in this band, even those who are becoming friends.”

“Arvil…” I touched his arm. He reached for my hand and held it for a moment. “You mustn’t think about this. I need your help now. There’s much I have to learn. You must teach me the language of these men and show me how to use this spear and bow.”

He smiled at last. “I shall try.”

 

 

It became my practice to go into the forest with Arvil as often as possible. He had seen that his spear and bow would not do for me, and so I practiced with weapons he had made for Tulan. It was good that we practiced in secret, for the band would have thought little of my powers and my dignity if they had seen me struggling with the bow or had watched my arrows drop only a pace or two away. My efforts with the spear often reduced Arvil to laughter.

I did, however, grow more skilled with the sling, since that weapon required skill and accuracy rather than strength. A day came when I aimed at a rabbit and struck it, but my joy at finding the target faded when I picked up the creature’s tiny body. I would never match Arvil’s skill with the bow and could not hurl the spear as far, but gradually I grew a bit more practiced with those weapons.

Occasionally Tulan rode out with us, and Arvil swore him to secrecy about these sessions. The boy was happy to keep the secret, and being asked to come with us had raised him even higher in the estimation of the other boys. With Tulan, I learned how to block blows and how to use my arms and legs in a fight, although it took several days to convince him that he was not being disrespectful if he used his full strength against me. Tulan, like all boys, had learned to fight at an early age, and I soon bore the bruises of his efforts.

It was, I knew, also better to learn these skills with Tulan instead of Arvil. Arvil was strong enough to injure me severely without meaning to do so, but I also feared provoking him with so much bodily contact. Whenever he moved my fingers along the bow or spear into a proper grip, I saw that he prolonged the touch and welcomed it. Tulan was still too young to feel such impulses and could lock his arms around me with no other thought than trying to keep me from breaking his hold.

Because I did not want others to resent any favor I showed Arvil and Tulan, I also spent time listening to Yerlan and others tell me of their deeds. I presided over contests among the boys and went with them when they gathered berries or hunted for stones to make into points. I walked among the gardens and listened as the plant tenders told me of their crops.

All of this brought me to the camp nearly every day, and after almost a month, Nallei agreed to come with me. She smiled when I told her what I was learning, scolded me when she noticed my bruises or strained muscles, but finally grew curious enough, or lonely enough, to accompany me.

She had not been on a horse since before her exile but was able to ride on Flame with me when I went into the wood with Arvil and Tulan. She refused to learn the use of weapons, but watched while I practiced. At first, she laughed at my mistakes, but as the days passed, she grew more solemn. Often she glanced from Arvil to me, and a thoughtful look would pass over her face.

Several days after she had first begun to come to the camp with me, I was chiding her as we prepared supper in our hut. “Surely you could try the sling,” I said as I set wild onion around our cooked fish. “Arvil can make one for you. You might need the skill someday.”

“I won’t need it here.”

“Life is uncertain out here, even on this lake. We might have to leave someday.”

“There would be nowhere to go.” She gazed at me over the fire. “And I wonder if you would want to leave Arvil.”

I stiffened. “He’s been a friend. I think he would follow me.”

“I’m sure he would.”

“Just what do you mean, Nallei?” I said, annoyed.

“Do you think I’m blind? I’ve seen how he looks at you, and there’s no deference in his eyes. He’s not looking at a Holy One, but at a young woman. I think he sees what you really are. Perhaps he learned that during your travels. Maybe you told him more than you should have.”

I sensed a threat in her words. “He’s no danger to you, Nallei. He’s happy with this band, and he’d do anything to protect me. He proved that during our journey many times.”

“You’re saying that he loves you.”

I pushed the stone platter of fish toward her. “He’s a friend,” I said at last.

“His feelings will grow. A time may come when he can’t control them. Remember that there was one who tried to force himself on me. You may not mean to do so, but you lure him on by spending so much time with him. You’re often alone with him in that wood. You smile at him and let him put his hands on yours.” She sighed. “I’ll do nothing against him, girl, but you’d better decide if it might be wiser to avoid him as much as possible and let those feelings in him die.”

The thoughts of having no moments with Arvil was more painful than I expected. “He’s only a friend,” I insisted. “It would hurt him if I began to avoid him. He’s done too much for me—he’s been kinder than anyone I’ve known except for you.”

“What shall we do, Birana? He’ll need to ease what’s inside him somehow. By the standards of men, he is handsome. More important, he seems to have a touch of intelligence and sensitivity. He might not be as brutal as others. I’ve been through so much that one more man won’t matter. I could summon him here. It might make matters easier for you.”

“No!” I cried out without thinking. “I wouldn’t have you endure that for me,” I said more calmly, but I was also thinking that, when he saw her beauty, he would lose his feelings for me. Jealousy tore at me; I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from weeping. I was being a fool. I could give him nothing but would keep him from finding pleasures with her.

I swallowed hard, then opened my eyes. Nallei studied me for a long time, then said, “Very well. I won’t summon him.” She picked up a piece of fish and began to eat.

 

 

Throughout the summer, the camp was alive with activity as the men made preparations for the harder seasons that lay ahead. Plants had to be gathered and stored, the gardens had to be weeded and harvested, meat had to be butchered and smoked. Arvil and Tulan showed me how to recognize certain roots and plants, and we brought as many back to the camp as we could.

I was unable to put Nallei’s warning from my mind, but all she had done was to make me more awkward when I was with Arvil. I started when he tried to guide my hand and lost some skill with the weapons. Sometimes I smiled at him inadvertently and looked away quickly when he responded with a grin. I tried to be distant but could not maintain that pose for long.

He seemed troubled by my changing moods, but the work of the band left him little time to dwell on them. The men often went far from the camp to hunt for game, and Arvil would sometimes be gone with the hunters for three or four days at a time. This should have eased me, but my moods were no different when he was gone.

Being idle for short periods of time offered too many chances for disturbing thoughts to plague me. I began to look for ways to aid the band. By midsummer, the men were going out in boats to gather wild rice along the shore and in small inlets. I went with them and watched as they paddled their boats into clumps of rice, pulled out clusters with their hands, and struck the plants with their paddles so that the seeds fell onto hides that covered the bottoms of the boats.

When we returned to the camp, we carried the rice into the clearing and laid it out inside one dwelling to dry. I insisted on helping with this task and the men, after a few protests, allowed me to do so.

One of the men was called Kirlan; he was a short, dark-skinned young man who had been sent to the island several times before. I motioned to him.

“You will tell Me,” I said haltingly in the lake tongue, “what is now done with this rice.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Lady, does our speech now fall from Your lips? It is not worthy of You, for it is a poor speech compared to Your holy tongue.”

“It is not a poor speech. I shall honor you by uttering it from time to time, but now we shall speak in My tongue.” I had learned some of their language by then, but was far from fluent. “What do you do with the rice now?”

“It must dry for two or three days, and then it must be husked between the hands, so.” Kirlan rubbed his palms together. “Then it must be parched over a fire and stored until we need it.” He scratched at his dark, curly hair. “But the Holy One knows this already. Did not the Lady teach us all arts in ancient times?”

“She did,” I replied, a bit taken aback, “but She wishes to see how well you have learned them and how the boys are instructed. I shall come here when it is time to husk the rice and will work with you.”

He gaped at me. “But it is we who serve You. Your fellow aspect has never shared our toil.”

“The Lady will share some of your work with you from now on,” I said firmly, “for She wishes to honor the band that has honored Her.” I searched my mind for another pompous phrase, since this was the sort of talk they expected. “My fellow aspect has watched over you and has not found you wanting, and the time has come for Us to aid you in whatever way these incarnations allow.” Nallei, I knew, was not going to be pleased by this new policy. “Let it not be said that the Lady does not return honor when honor is paid to Her.”

Kirlan bowed, then hastened off to spread this news.

Nallei complained, as I had expected, but I bullied her into coming with me to work; almost against her will, she soon took some satisfaction in the extra tasks. She learned how to scale fish and grew skilled at husking the rice. She cared little about easing the band’s burden in our small way but took some pleasure in knowing that a little of our food was the product of our own efforts. We walked together along the edge of the wood picking berries and helped the men store their dried meat.

Nallei’s days were no longer as tedious, but she had worried that the band might lose their respect for us if we worked at their side. Instead, we seemed to inspire them. They redoubled their efforts to prepare the camp for colder weather, laboring from dawn until nightfall. The gardeners swore that their plots had never yielded so many plants; the hunters exclaimed that deer willingly accepted their arrows and that wildfowl landed at their feet, while those who fished claimed that fish leaped into their boats. Even the trapping of a large and dangerous wild boar that had begun to forage nearby was attributed to our presence among the men.

Nallei grew slimmer and stronger and glowed as though her body were, even without the techniques of our cities, rejuvenating itself. We still swam nearly every morning before crossing to the camp, and often we returned to our hut too tired to do more than fall onto our mat to sleep. Whenever I saw Arvil now, others were usually with us, and we did not often go into the wood alone to practice with spears and bows. It was easier for me not to think of him at other times.

Only the full moon ceremonies marred this season. Nallei drank heavily on those days; I looked on sadly as her boat drifted away from the island. I had solitude then, too much time to dwell on thoughts of Arvil. My illness of the mind had the most power over me then. I saw his gray eyes, heard his voice, felt his hand on mine, and cursed the world for not having made him a woman I might love.

 

 

In early fall, spots of color began to appear amid the trees on the hills around the lake. The oaks were beginning to change. Nallei and I kept to the island, wanting to enjoy as much time in the cove as possible before it grew too cold for swimming.

Guards came to the island and left it. Used to seeing me among them, they spoke more easily with me now, but they still used terms of respect. Wirlan came once, although Yerlan rarely sent him in case his healing arts might be needed in the camp. He told me of what Arvil was learning from him but did not speak of the time he had tended Nallei. A red-haired man named Resilan gathered mushrooms for me under the island trees; a hunter named Aklan told me of his hunts. Nallei avoided these guards much of the time except when she needed a task done. I listened to their stories and tried to feel some kindness for them, although it was hard not to think of how they had used Nallei. I would have to live among them, whatever they were.

 

 

I was following Resilan along the island shore when he pointed at a boat crossing the bay. “Your next guards come,” he said. “Holy Lady, it is Your messenger Vilan.”

I lifted a hand to my throat; I had already seen Arvil’s blond hair. He would be here for two days, possibly three; we would have all of that time together. I told myself that I was only happy to see a friend, and yet warmth was already rising to my cheeks.

“I see that You are pleased, Holy One,” Resilan said. I lowered my eyes, trying to compose myself. “I’ll tell the Headman of Your happiness, and perhaps he will send Vilan to Your island more often.”

“You must not tell him that,” I replied warily. “I am as happy to see any of you. I’m as happy to see the Headman himself.” I wondered if Yerlan’s feelings toward Arvil had eased, if he was learning to trust him more.

Tulan was in the boat with Arvil. I stood on a rock and watched as they dragged the boat ashore, then bid farewell to Resilan and his companion.

“The Headman chose us,” Tulan said as he came to my side. “He said that because You have sought our company before, it was right for him to send us to guard You.” He struck his chest with one fist. “And I’m the youngest one he has ever sent here.”

Arvil was lifting a basket from the boat. He set it down and looked up as Tulan started to strut. “Be proud,” he said to the boy, “but do not brag.” He stood up and gazed at me. “Since You have let him tend Your horses, perhaps he grows too proud.” He spoke the words gently.

“I am pleased to see you,” I said, as stiffly as I could, but was unable to keep all my joy out of my voice. My mind was darting from one thought to another; I wished I had put on another shirt, trimmed the curls around my face, or worn Nallei’s necklace of feathers.

“I am pleased to see You,” he said softly.

“The horses are well,” Tulan said. “More of the boys ride them now, and Wild Spirit is not so wild.”

“Greetings, Holy One,” Arvil said suddenly.

I turned. Nallei had come down the trail and now stood on the slope above us. “So you are to be Our guards now,” she said. “Greetings, Tulan and Vilan—or perhaps I should continue to call you Arvil as My companion does.”

Tulan bowed; Arvil stared at her a moment before lowering his head. “You may call me whatever You wish.”

She glanced from Arvil to me. I gestured awkwardly at the basket. “Arvil and Tulan will carry up this food,” I said.

Nallei did not reply right away. She’s going to summon him, I thought; she’ll do it to protect me. At last she said, “The boy and I can carry that, and he can tell Me what he has been learning. Perhaps You might show Arvil Our island, since he has not been here before.”

I was bewildered. She had talked of protecting me before; now, she was leaving me alone with Arvil. She walked toward the basket and lifted one end as Tulan picked up the other.

As they walked up the trail, I motioned to Arvil. “We’ll walk along the shore,” I said. “I’ll show you the cove where we swim.” I had learned more of the band’s language and continued to speak in that tongue as we circled the island. I spoke of our hut, of a patch where blueberries grew, of the ducks that would soon fly away from the bay, and kept my eyes averted from him. I had nearly run out of words by the time we reached the cove.

“This is where we swim,” I said, waving a hand at the water.

“So you have said.”

“The water is shallower here, and the sun warms it.”

He moved a little closer to me. “I am a better swimmer now.”

I groped for more words. “Tell me what you’ve been doing during the past days.”

He sat down on one of the rocks; after a moment, I seated myself next to him, careful not to get too close. “I should tell you this,” he said in my language. “You must remain cautious in how you treat Yerlan. He still harbors a longing for you. He doesn’t admit it openly, but when he speaks of you, I hear what is in his voice. He wonders how favored a place I have in your thoughts.”

“Yet he sent you here,” I said.

“He has a liking for Tulan, perhaps because he has no charge of his own. The boy is bold, and when the Headman said he would send Tulan here, Tulan asked if I could go with him. Yerlan agreed, but he didn’t seem happy to do so.” He paused for a bit. “You haven’t spoken alone with him for some time. Perhaps you should when I leave here.”

“I’d rather be near him as little as possible.”

“You can sit in the clearing. He can do nothing there. It would make him happy to speak more to you of his doings, and it may make matters easier for me. I want him to send me here again, and perhaps he will if you show him some favor now.” He reached toward me. “I’ve missed you, Birana.”

I let him hold my hand as all the feelings I wanted to deny flooded into me. I wanted his hand on mine; I wanted him close to me—further than that my thoughts did not go.

I said, “I have missed you, Arvil.”

He released my hand and slipped his arm around my waist. I sat very still, hardly able to breathe. “My longing is still great,” he said. “Even your absence does not weaken it.”

“You mustn’t speak of that.”

“I know what you have told me, and now I am learning Wirlan’s lore. He has taught me much, and he’s also told me a little of what has passed here since your companion came. What his private thoughts of the Lady are, I cannot say, but he knows the lore of ill or weak bodies, and he sees that your companion has a body not unlike our own.”

“What has he told you?” I asked, remembering what Nallei had told me.

“Only that the Lady’s spirit is trapped in such a body. He has joined with her, as have others. Do you think a man who knows his lore can so easily put it aside and believe that you or your companion are something other than what he sees or feels? Others may be blinded by the worship they have been taught, but Wirlan is not such a man.”

I thought of the healer. I had felt uneasy with him, when he was on the island, but had attributed that nervousness to what I knew about him from Nallei; he had said nothing to provoke it. “You shouldn’t be telling me this,” I said. “If Nallei… ,” I paused, but I had said her name and could not call it back. “If my companion knew of this…”

“She will do nothing against him, and I do not think you will. He’s silent about such thoughts except with me, and even you and your friend may need his healing in time.” His arm tightened around my waist. “But it is this I wanted to say. You told me of what would happen when a man joined with a woman, and yet your companion has joined with many, and with Yerlan often, and nothing has come of it. You say a woman would grow large, and a child would come from her body. Your companion could not have hidden this, especially from Wirlan.”

“You don’t understand. She…”

“You say she is older and a man’s seed doesn’t grow in her. She could not have been old when she came here. You have not been honest with me.”

I thrust his arm from me.

“You said that to join with you would mean your death, and yet she lives and thrives. You didn’t tell me the truth. You wanted only to keep me from you, to frighten me with your story because you knew I cared too much for you to harm you. Am I so hateful to you? Is my body so hateful? Then why do you call me friend and smile at me? Why do you sit with me now and then draw away?”

“Nallei hates what they do,” I whispered. “I would hate it as much.”

“But you would not. Look at me and tell me that your soul doesn’t long for me.”

I forced myself to raise my head. He embraced me and his lips found mine. He drew me down next to him on the rock. His mouth was gentle against mine as he stroked my hair with his hands.

My lips parted. I had been without love too long, I told myself; I could not have responded to him otherwise. I tried to push my mind outside my body, as Nallei did, but was trapped inside myself. His hands gripped my waist and slipped under my shirt to cup my breasts.

I pushed his arms away violently and sat up. “Are you going to tell me now you don’t long for me?” he said softly. “Can you not find a way to share yourself with me? I cannot force myself upon you—there would be no joy in that for me. Tell me if there’s a way I can be with you without causing you harm.”

I bowed my head, shamed, unable to answer.

“Birana, I cannot bear this much longer. I could hold myself from you when I believed I might harm you, but now I know that doesn’t have to happen. I am tormented. Tell me that you can never be with me, and I’ll accept it and leave this camp. I can find another band, and you will be safe here. Perhaps then I can forget.”

I could not bear the thought of losing him altogether. “I can’t let you go,” I said. “If you left...” I gazed at him, unable to say more.

He raised himself on one elbow. “You will have to guide me, Birana. If a time comes when we can be together, you will have to show me what to do. I can wait if I know such a time will come.”

What could I tell him—that it was only my fear of losing him altogether that might make me surrender? That I was only showing gratitude for all he had done? That I still saw Laissa when I looked into his eyes? This would be part of the truth, but not all of it.

I heard a sound above us and looked up. Nallei was descending the hill. She could not have seen us or heard our words, and yet I felt that somehow she had.

“Tulan is by your boat,” she announced. “Go there and stay with him until We have need of you.”

Arvil got to his feet, nodded, and walked back along the way he had come. When he was gone, Nallei undressed and plunged into the water without speaking. I followed, but the water had grown too cold for us to remain in it for long. We climbed out and stood on the rocks shivering as we waited for the sun to dry us, then pulled on our clothes.

Nallei sat down and began to comb her wet hair with her fingers. “You were pleased to see Arvil here,” she said.

“Of course. He’s my friend.”

“Birana, he’s more than that to you.”

My hands fell from my hair. “Just what do you think I am? Do you think I’m deranged? Do you think I could…”

“Haven’t I been honest with you? Do you think I could despise you after what I’ve had to do? I think it’s time you were honest with me. We have only each other. I might be able to help you.”

I choked, and then my head was against her shoulder as I wept. “I don’t know what I feel,” I whispered between sobs. “When I’m with him, something in me… Nallei, what’s happened to me? At first, I saw something in him, a resemblance to one I loved, but now…”

“Calm yourself, girl.” She patted my shoulder and dried my tears with her sleeve. “I think it’s time to tell me what you haven’t said. What has passed between you both?”

“There’s something I didn’t tell you before, about my journey.” I began to tell her of my first meeting with Arvil, how he had gone to the enclave and returned with a command to kill me. She listened without interrupting. I told her everything I had revealed to Arvil about the cities and how I had made sure that my city would believe me dead.

When I was finished, she stood up and paced along the shore, deep in thought, and then climbed back up to me. “He cared for you enough to overcome his fear of your city,” she said as she sat down. “He cared for you enough to throw aside all of his beliefs, because to hold on to them would mean you would have to die. Even when he knew that you had no way to resist him, he didn’t force himself upon you. I wouldn’t have thought a man was capable of such feeling. Is it any wonder that he seems to have awakened some feeling in you?”

“What I feel is sick and contemptible.”

“So those in the cities would think. We’re not in a city now. The cities wanted us dead… does it matter what they think? You’re young, at an age when the urge for love is strong. Had you been in your city, with young women who might have been your partners, that urge would have been satisfied, but you’re here now. I think that maybe there were few such partners for you and that your capacity for love had no outlet, but your feelings are there, and Arvil has somehow awakened them. Long ago, women felt such feelings for men, and perhaps that capacity still lies inside some women. Perhaps those dormant feelings, in the absence of a woman to satisfy you, have been roused.”

“It can’t be true. I couldn’t…”

She leaned toward me. “Birana, I’ll tell you what the men here have been to me. They feel awe, and grovel, and do my bidding. They worship the spirit that they believe lives in me. They also long for a body they’ve been conditioned to want. When one enters my hut, it’s only his lust he wishes to satisfy, and then it is I who must humble myself. That’s all there is for me. They worship me and then take what they want from me. There isn’t one who ever felt even a bit of compassion or caring for me. It had to be that way for me. Perhaps if even one of them had seen past that, had seen me as I am, it might have been different, but too many years have passed and too many men have used me to make that possible. It doesn’t have to be that way for you.”

“What are you telling me to do?”

“I can’t tell you to do anything. You must decide that. I can’t feel scorn for you whatever you do, and I think you’ve feared that.”

“Arvil may leave this camp,” I said. “He may leave because of me.”

“You might be losing much.” She helped me to my feet. “You had courage when you found your way here. Try to show some of that courage now.”

 

 

Nallei and I shared a meal inside the hut, and when we were done, she left the hut and walked down the trail leading to the boat. I laid more wood on the fire, then went outside to wash out our cups.

Arvil was climbing toward me as I poured a little water into the cups; I poured it out quickly and stood up, clutching at the cups and the waterskin.

“Your companion said you might have need of me,” he said. “She has gone with Tulan in the boat—she said she wished to spend the day on the water.”

We were alone then. I stepped back, nearly dropping the cups. He took my belongings from me and set them on the ground.

“You can swim in the cove if you like,” I heard myself say. “The water will be warmer now.”

“Tulan and I swam before, when you were with your companion.” He touched my hair lightly and rested his cheek against the top of my head. “I have wanted a time alone with you, and the one you call Nallei has given it to us.”

I shivered.

“Even she has seen my longing.”

I stumbled away from him. He caught me around the waist. I tore myself away from him and hurried into the hut.

On the platform lay a piece of leather. Nallei had been marking the days of my cycle there with a stone so that I would be prepared for the days when I bled. I picked up the leather and counted, noting the days.

The hide over the door was lifted; Arvil’s silhouette darkened the entrance. He stepped into the light of the fire. “Do you wish me to stay?” he asked. “You must tell me now. There will be few such moments for us.”

I set down the hide. “There would be no danger for me now,” I said, surprised at how steady my voice was. “A woman’s body has its cycle, as does the moon. There are days when a man’s seed won’t grow inside her. This is such a day for me, I am sure. My cycle has been regular since I came here.” Nallei had seen this, I thought. She had sent him here; she had forced this decision upon me, but she had also known I would be safe. I wanted to be angry with her, yet she was only giving me a chance to settle what was between Arvil and me. I could still send him from the hut, uttering words cruel enough to make certain I never saw him again.

“Birana,” he murmured.

“I’ll need some wine,” I said. “It will deaden my thoughts, and then you can do as you like. If I must do this to keep you as my friend, then I’ll do it.”

He came closer to me. “Do you think that’s how I want you, having you suffer my touch instead of welcoming it?”

“Give me the wine.”

He picked up a jug and poured some wine into a cup. My hands shook as I took it from him; I gulped it down, then drank another cup.

He moved toward the mat, picked up a hide, and lay it on the dirt floor. He reached for me then and drew me down to him.

The wine, instead of dulling me, had sharpened my awareness. If I closed my eyes and felt only his hands without looking at him, I could pretend he was a woman, forget what he was. I could imagine that the hands lifting my shirt, the hands touching my breasts, were not Arvil’s. I lay at his side, and his gentleness made it easier to pretend he was not a man.

He took my hand and pressed it against his chest; I could no longer pretend. He had taken off his shirt; with his other hand, he loosened the belt around his leather trousers. He drew my hand to his abdomen.

“Birana, Birana.” He repeated my name, as if it were a chant. He lay across me, pressing my back against the hide while I tried to push him away, but he was too inflamed with longing by then to release me. He drew my hand to his groin, still covered by his garment, and held it there; he was hard against my palm.

He gasped; his breath was hot against my ear. He let go of me suddenly and sat back on his heels. “I long for you too much,” he said as he untied my belt and slipped my pants over my hips. I closed my eyes again, listening to his movements as he took off the rest of his clothing.

He lay down at my side. His hand cupped my cheek for a moment as he kissed me, then dropped to my breast. I had thought he would be impatient, yet his hands lingered on me, circled my waist, slipped under me to caress my buttocks and stroke my thighs.

Perhaps the wine had robbed me of any power to resist. I thought to myself: It is a woman with me, but my mind summoned no images except that of Arvil.

I opened my eyes and gazed into his face. How could I ever have thought of him as ugly? A friend looked out from those eyes, a friend who loved me. “You must help me,” he said. “Show me how I can give pleasure to you.”

I could not speak. His hand moved across my belly and between my legs. I had expected roughness, but his fingers were gentle as they probed.

“I have learned something from the spirit-women,” he whispered, “but you must guide me now.”

I was now watching myself from afar and yet still feeling what my body felt. My hand dropped to his as I guided him, feeling my wetness on his fingers, leading him along my folds and to the tiny nub that nestled there. My back arched as he touched me; I heard myself moan as I opened my legs.

I released his hand. He would want to enter me now; I would have to endure it. The tip of his finger slid inside me, and then he was exploring my folds again, moving his hand tenderly over my nub. I could no longer hold back, crying out as the tiny spot of pleasure grew and then blossomed. I moved against his hand as my body shuddered with my response.

His organ was in my hand. He drew my fingers along his shaft, then clasped his hand tightly around mine as he moved against me. He groaned as his seed suddenly spurted from him; he had spent himself without entering me.

He stretched out next to me. “You felt some pleasure with me, Birana. You cannot deny it now.”

“You didn’t…” I said.

“You must be ready for me. I felt that you weren’t, but I have had pleasure from you. This is enough for now, to take this smaller joy and have the greater one of knowing that you can accept my touch.”

My head was clearing. A man had touched me; he had brought me to completion, and I had welcomed it. He had seen me respond; he knew that I would remember this and long for him again. He had restrained himself, not entered me even when he must have ached for that; but I could not think kindly of his restraint, only that I had given him even more power over me.

I sat up. The sight of his nakedness should have repelled me. His chest rose and fell as he sighed. His eyes were closed; one muscular arm was curled under his golden hair. His penis, so large in my hand, seemed smaller as it rested against his thigh. I thought of how he had touched me and felt my belly tighten.

I jumped up and grabbed at my clothes. “Birana!” he called out. I darted from the hut and ran down toward the cove, heedless of the twigs and brambles lashing at my legs and the pebbles under my bare feet. I dropped my clothes on a rock and threw myself into the water, wanting to cleanse myself.

I dived down under the surface and moved through the dark and silent depths. I thought of what Yvara would have said, what every woman I knew would have said. I was ill, besotted, sick, and twisted; I had done a shameful deed, had shown that they were right to expel me, that they had somehow sensed the evil that was inside me.

My head broke through the water; I gulped for air. Arvil was standing by the shore. He set down his clothing and waded in as I swam toward him.

“Birana…” he said.

“Don’t speak to me now.” I climbed out onto the rocks, feeling his eyes on me. I wrung the water from my hair, then pulled on my clothes.

Arvil ducked down under the water, rose, and then swam away from the shore. His stroke was smoother, although still awkward. As he swam out of the cove and into deeper water, I called out to him. “Arvil! Don’t go so far!”

He turned and swam back, then climbed out of the water. “You do not have to shout,” he said.

“I was worried. You haven’t known how to swim for very long.”

“A voice carries over the lake. Would you have the camp know that we’ve come here together to swim?” He shook the moisture from his hair and began to dress.

We sat next to each other, not speaking. At last he said, “Like a spirit-woman, you vanished from my side. I had thought it would be different with you.”

I turned my head from him as I combed my hair with my fingers. “I don’t want to speak of this.”

“You feared me when you thought I could bring you no pleasure, and now you fear me because I do. If this is how it will be, I won’t come to you again. There’s not so much enjoyment in it that I cannot satisfy myself in other ways.”

I was stung. “So I’ve lowered and demeaned myself for nothing.”

“That is how you think of it—lowering yourself?”

I got to my feet. “Find someone else, then,” I snapped. “There are enough men in the camp. I can ask Nallei to call you. She would do it for me.”

“You say your friend hates what they do. Would you have her do what she hates, and grow to hate me? Do you think I could take any joy in that?” His hands shook; his face was taut with anger. “Do you think so little of us?”

I turned as he leaped to his feet. He grabbed my arms and pulled me toward him. I expected him to utter more angry words; instead, he pressed his lips against mine.

I wanted to feel his touch then. I pushed him away and climbed quickly toward the hut; he did not follow. I was crying with shame and hurt as I entered the dwelling. He had lain with me, and I wanted him to come to me again but could not say the words aloud to him.

I threw myself onto the mat and wept, hoping he would come to me but knowing he would not.

 

 

Nallei said nothing to me when she returned toward evening. As I set out our meal, she began to speak of Tulan. “The boy was honored to be asked to take me out on the lake,” she said. “He would be happy to do so again.”

She was clearly waiting for me to tell her what to do, but I said nothing.

“He told me of his friends,” she continued. “Since you gave him the horses to care for, he’s been quite proud of himself. Of course, he seeks Yerlan’s approval as well. It’s a pity he can’t remain as he is, but sooner or later I suppose he’ll become like the others, bullying those who are weaker. Already he allows only certain boys to ride the horses with him. Maybe you should speak to him about that, encourage him to be a little more generous. You brought those horses here—he might listen to you.”

“He would listen to you, too.” I did not want to speak of Tulan.

I had been drinking during the meal and had finished nearly a jug of wine by myself; Nallei was noting that but still asked me nothing about what had happened. She stood up, yawned, and walked toward the mat. “I must sleep.” She looked back at me. “Birana, is there anything you want to say? I might not be able to help, but I can listen.”

I shook my head, then got up to clear our platter and cups from the hearthside.

I sat at her side, drinking wine until she was breathing deeply and evenly. I could not sleep yet, and the wine had made my head ache. The fire was burning low. I remembered the first time I had been alone in the hut, how I had imagined Arvil near me.

The hut seemed to be closing in around me. I went outside to breathe the cool night air until my head was clearer, then walked along the trail, not caring where my feet carried me.

I was soon standing above the place where the boat had been beached and swayed unsteadily on my legs. A banked fire glowed on the ground; Tulan lay next to it, asleep. Arvil was gazing toward the camp; he turned his head and saw me.

I backed away and stumbled into the trees. Branches snapped and rustled behind me. I hastened on, then tripped; I thrust out a hand as arms caught me.

The wine had made me weak and dizzy. I was sinking, falling against a soft, mossy spot as arms lowered me gently to the ground. The darkness hid him from me. I thought: He has come to me once; it doesn’t matter what he does now; I can tell myself I was too weak to stop him.

He drew my trousers down and covered my mouth with his. My lips parted as he probed my mouth with his tongue. His hand moved over my belly and then lower as my legs opened. Warmth flowed through me; again I was taking his hand and guiding his fingers. I told myself that it was not Arvil touching me, but a hand that might have belonged to a woman, but it was impossible to pretend even in the darkness. I felt the muscles of his back; his organ was hard against my thigh.

I gasped. He withdrew his hand and took mine; I gripped him tightly as he had shown me how to do. He guided my thumb to his moistened tip; I wanted to pull away from him then, but he kept his hand over mine. He moved against my hand and groaned softly as his semen spurted from him.

An odd elation filled me for a moment. I could do this for him; in return for the power I had given him over me, I had been given this power over him. He was no longer a man trained to ache for a woman without knowing why; he was Arvil, my companion, who sought only my touch.

His penis was soft in my hand. I continued to hold it, then ran my fingers lightly over the testes beneath. He shuddered and sighed. “Birana, this is more than I felt with you before. This is closer to the holy state of the spirit-women, and yet more than that because it comes from you.”

He kissed me again, moving his tongue inside my mouth. His hand was probing my cleft; I spread my legs wider, opening myself to his touch. “Is there another way?” he whispered. “Is it only my hand that can do this? A man will sometimes use his mouth with his partner. Should I put my mouth on you?”

A moan escaped me; I did not have to speak my answer. He lowered his head and kissed my belly as his hands pressed against the inside of my thighs.

His mouth was suddenly on the place between my legs, kissing me as he had kissed my lips. His tongue moved into me, flicking against my inner lips as he nuzzled me awkwardly. I heard myself whispering to him, telling him what to do. His fingers spread my folds open as his tongue licked and probed.

I drew up my knees as a wave of pleasure flowed over me. My hand was against my mouth to stifle my moans as his tongue slid over me. My hips moved under him; I felt my pleasure would never stop, that it would ebb and flow and then wash over me once more.

At last it flowed from me and did not return. He lay at my side, stroking my breasts tenderly as if he now sought no more than the feel of my skin. I touched his body and felt the harder muscles of his chest and then the downy patch just below his abdomen. His body, so different from mine, no longer seemed so repulsive, so alien.

No one had given me such joy before. Perhaps if I had known a woman or girl who had truly loved me, it would have been impossible for me to accept any love from Arvil. I had longed for love even more than I realized.

“Your kind has a power men do not,” he murmured. “A man burns, and then his pleasure rushes from him, while yours seems to move over you as though it would never cease.”

The images in shrines conditioned men to want what they provided; it had not occurred to me before that they might also show men how to give us pleasure. Those ancient images, created in a time before women had completely separated themselves from men, had shown Arvil some ways to love me; people long dead still worked through him and through me.

Arvil drew his shirt and mine over us to protect us from the cold. We lay there for a while, and soon his hands were caressing me more insistently. This time he did not have to guide my hand to him. His body moved more slowly as he spent himself and sighed softly. I felt no wave of pleasure as he touched me, but only a small spasm of joy that might have come to me in a dream.

He kissed my face and neck, stroked my hair, then sat up. “I would stay here with you,” he said, “but I must go. Tulan may wake and wonder where I’ve gone.”

I rose reluctantly. He helped me dress, then put on his own clothes. His hands slipped around my waist. “I want too much, I know,” he said. “Tell me that I can come to you again.”

I could not speak.

“Tell me that I can hope, that you will welcome me again.”

“I will.” I had said it at last. “I don’t think I could turn you away now, Arvil.”

He released me and vanished among the trees.

 

 

Nallei said little in the morning as I prepared our herb tea, but I had sensed she was feigning sleep the night before when I crept back into the hut. She must have known that something had changed, must have guessed that Arvil and I had been together.

I was awkward making the tea and nearly burned my hand on one of the small stones. I could hardly bring myself to eat any of our fruit. As we finished our meal, I heard a voice outside.

Nallei rose and left the hut; I followed. Arvil and Tulan were walking up toward us. “Is there anything You need, Holy Ones?” Tulan asked.

My cheeks burned. I glanced at Arvil from the sides of my eyes. His face was flushed; he looked away and poked at the ground with one foot.

Nallei cleared her throat. “Tulan told me yesterday of the contests the boys will hold soon to mark this season. Since My companion and I will be presiding over them, I would like Tulan to tell Me more about what is planned this time. I shall go out on the lake with him again today and return for Our noontime meal.”

Tulan shook back his straight black hair and clapped his hands together, obviously pleased. “You honor me again, Holy One.”

My face grew hotter as Nallei glanced from Arvil to me; I had confirmed her suspicions by not objecting while she spoke to the boy. “Perhaps Tulan and I can go out in the boat this afternoon,” I said quickly.

Tulan beamed still more. “I would be honored.”

“I must tend to my tasks,” I muttered, and ducked back into the hut. Nallei was speaking to Arvil, telling him that she would welcome him and Tulan at our hut for our meal. I felt feverish as I knelt by the fire and wondered if I was becoming ill. I reached toward a jar of berry wine, then let my hand drop.

“They have gone,” Arvil said as he entered the hut and sat down near me. Perhaps he only wanted to talk now; there had been little enough talk between us since he arrived. I kept my head lowered as I stirred the fire.

“You would rather be with Tulan this afternoon than with me,” he said. “I had thought…”

“I’m being cautious. Would you want him to tell others that we were often alone while you were here? Yerlan might find it odd.”

“They cannot know what has passed, and Tulan would say nothing. I am almost a guardian to him.”

“So is Yerlan. We must be careful.”

He nodded. “It is so. I’m too greedy. I think I must have every moment with you I can.” He paused. “I think Tulan is coming to care for you more.”

“He is only a boy.”

“He won’t be a boy for too much longer.” He ran a hand through his wavy, blond hair. “I shouldn’t say this, I know, but now that you have shared some pleasures with me, you may wish others to share them as well.”

“Never!” I cried. “I’ve shamed myself enough.”

“Is it still shameful to you, Birana?”

I sat back on my heels. “I didn’t mean to say that. It seems that way afterward, not when I’m with you. Try to understand. No woman longs for a man. My city would call what I feel a sickness. I can tell myself it isn’t so, but I can’t forget that. They would think that what Nallei has done is bad enough, even though she takes no joy in it.”

He took my hand and helped me to my feet. “We have little time.” He bent his head and put his mouth on mine. His hair and body smelled of the lake, as though he had bathed earlier; his tongue slipped inside my mouth and I remembered the feel of his tongue in me.

His hands pulled at my clothes. When we were both naked, he led me to the mat. No darkness shielded us now; the morning light shone under the hide over the door and the fire glowed, I saw his body clearly in the shadows. Below his tanned chest and paler belly, his organ had already begun to swell.

I lay next to him as he touched my breasts and guided his hands to my nipples. He rubbed his thumb over them until they were erect, then felt my thighs as he parted my legs.

“Birana,” he whispered as his finger caressed me. “I want…” He was suddenly upon me, his penis between my legs. I pushed against his chest, resisting, until he rolled to one side.

“Arvil, don’t.”

“You said there would be no danger before. Is there danger now?”

I sat up, pulling part of a hide over me. I could tell him that there was danger but wondered if I could lie to him now about anything. “No, there’s no danger. I know my own body, I’ve counted the days carefully.” I did not want what had happened to Nallei to happen to me.

“Then why do you push me away?”

“I don’t know if I can explain. What I’ve done with you… I might have done that with a woman. I can tell myself that, and then it doesn’t seem so…” I bit my lip. “But this other thing… it can only be done with a man, and that makes it seem worse.” I swallowed. “It may hurt me, too. I’m afraid of the pain. I’m afraid my body can’t take all of you inside me.”

“I know I can please you now. I can make you ready for me. I must try. If you cannot, I’ll take my pleasure in the other way.”

I wanted to trust him; he had been gentle before. Perhaps I would only have to endure this once; if he hurt me or saw I took no joy in this practice, he might not want it again.

I lay back. He fondled me with one hand, but his touch was different this time. When I moaned, he hesitated before exploring me further. He lowered his head between my thighs and probed first with his hand and then with his tongue, arousing me and yet not satisfying me. His finger slipped inside me, then out, then in again more deeply.

I lifted myself a little, thinking I might have to guide him. I was completely open to him, aching as he rubbed each fold lightly and his tongue flicked against my knub. I fell back, unable to bear much more.

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.