ARVIL

 

I had longed for Birana, yet even with what the spirit-women had shown me, I had not known what to expect. The aspects in the shrine and the enclave had felt like women of flesh and bone, but they had been ghosts without names, only bodies to arouse and then satisfy me.

I had seen Birana in that way at first, as one who might grant me blessings but who in every other way was apart from me. Instead, her soul had reached out to mine.

She was like the spirit-women and yet unlike them. With her, there was the smoothness of her skin and the curves of her body, but also an uncertain groping, the awkwardness of a fearful soul, the sweat and smell and salty taste of her. The spirit-women were beings who vanished when I was sated, while Birana remained to rest with me and to rouse me again. I remembered the look of her dark hair spread out on the mat, the rosy glow of her face after I loved her. Even my uncertainty with her and the need to give her a more prolonged pleasure that spirit-women did not seek added to my longing.

After our first time on the island, Birana went to the camp to sit alone with Yerlan in the clearing and listen to his tales. Although I had told her it would be wise to show him such favor, I felt anger when they sat together but swallowed my rage. Yerlan was pleased by her growing friendliness toward him. He soon learned that each time he sent Tulan and me to the island, Birana would come to him and listen to his talk.

That fall was marked by the harvest of what remained in the gardens and by a great hunt. All in the camp were busy with butchering deer, drying fish, smoking our meat, curing hides, storing the food we would need for the winter, and patching spaces between the logs of our dwellings with mud and clay.

Birana and Nallei did what they could to aid the camp. With some of the boys, they gathered nuts and acorns and learned how to dig up roots. Birana was not skilled enough with her weapons to hunt, but she followed the hunters on horseback and showed them how a conveyance of wood and hide might be made for each horse to pull; on these litters, she was able to bring game back to the camp. I had worried about how we might feed the horses during the winter, but the band had seen their usefulness. Along with our own food, we stored much dry grass and some wild grains for the beasts. We would feed them what we could; if they grew weak, they could provide us with meat.

Birana had grown more beautiful. Her skin was as rosy as a wild rose’s petals, her dark brown hair was streaked with red and gold from the sun, and she strode proudly among the men of the camp, as if the pleasures she had taken with me had filled a need in her soul. She smiled more often and spoke more kindly to some, and the men took this as a sign of her favor.

I rejoiced in this new beauty, but feared for her. I knew the thoughts of some men, for I had heard the bolder ones whisper them to one another. A time might come when the younger Holy One would no longer commune with spirits on the night of the full moon, when she too would summon men to her side. They whispered that Birana’s smile showed her anticipation of the day she would enter the holy state with those she would call. More men found reasons to be near her, to help her in the work of gathering food or wood for the fires.

I did not seek her out often when others were near and lowered my eyes when she passed, afraid that others might see what was in my thoughts and mark by the way I gazed at her that we had grown closer. A hunter, I knew, could read many things in the stance and gaze of another.

I had won her, won her body and the love of her soul. I had overcome the obstacles the world had set in my path and had conquered my fear and hers. At times, I wanted to shout this to the others, to let them know she had chosen me; but I held my peace, knowing that I would only destroy what I had won.

 

 

I sat with Birana by the island cove; Yerlan had sent me to guard her for the sixth time. The oaks had lost nearly all of their leaves by then, and the camp often woke to the sight of frost on the ground.

Our pleasures that day had been given with hands and lips because it was a time when my seed might have grown within her. I had shown her how to take me into her mouth, as a man might do, but this had not been easy for her. I hoped that a time would come when she would welcome the taste of me, as I delighted in hers.

She cut at my hair with my metal knife, working gently at each strand until my hair curled against the top of my neck, then drew my curls through her fingers as I pressed my mouth to hers. “Now for your face,” she murmured. I had little hair on my face but allowed her to draw the knife carefully across my cheeks.

I said, “I may want a man’s beard in time.”

“Your face is too pleasing to hide with a beard.”

“I think that’s why Yerlan has no beard—not because it’s the custom among many of these men, but because he cannot bear to hide his beauty.”

“Yerlan!” She sniffed. “How tedious it is to listen to him sometimes, with all his talk about how strong he is, and how no one has ever beaten him in a contest. When I smile and tell him how fine he is, I feel like a fool.”

I took the knife from her. “Birana, it isn’t wise to think of Yerlan that way. He is a Headman, he became one when he wasn’t much older than I am now. He may not have the cleverness or wit of some others, but he watches and sees more than you know.”

She lowered her eyes. “Now you’re frightening me.”

“I mean to frighten you. You must be on your guard with him, as I am. If you’re careless in your dealings with him or show contempt, he will be shamed, and a shamed man can do reckless deeds.”

“All that posturing!” she burst out. “All the bragging, the preening and strutting, all those competitions to see who’s better with a spear or who can wrestle someone else to the ground.”

“We must be strong and skilled at such things if we’re to live. We must know where another might be weaker, or how he might fail us.”

“The men don’t have contests only for that. They want the enjoyment of beating someone else, of being better.”

“It would be good if you shared some of those feelings,” I said. “You might grow better at such arts if you did.”

“I might improve if, every time we try to practice them here, you didn’t start wanting to do other things.”

I pulled her to her feet. “I do not see you resist those other things.”

I wanted to be alone with her for the rest of that day but knew that Tulan, who was with Nallei, would begin to look for me soon. I worried a little about Nallei as well. Although she did not complain, she moved more stiffly in this colder weather, as though her bones had started to ache. My time with Wirlan had made me able to see such signs and mark what they meant. I was concerned about Nallei for her own sake, but also for Birana’s as well. Birana’s companion protected her, and I feared what might happen if Nallei could no longer do so.

 

 

That fall, I was allowed to lead a band of hunters from the camp. We had hunted deer before, bringing some of those creatures down with our spears and stealing other carcasses from the cats and wolves that had killed them. This time, we hunted bear, tracking a creature that might injure or kill us. Yerlan, I was sure, was testing me by allowing me to lead this hunt. I did not want to fail.

We tracked a bear for a day, rested that night, and found him the next morning. As our spears flew toward him, he rose up on his legs, maddened by this assault. My spear found his throat as he staggered toward us, bringing him down only a few paces from my feet.

We lashed the bear to a sturdy tree limb. He was fat with the food he had eaten to sustain him during his winter’s sleep, and it took much of our strength to carry him back toward the trail.

“You did well, Vilan,” Aklan said, using the name that meant I was one of the men of the lake. “We’ll have fat to render and good eating for many days, and you will have a fine hide.”

“I’ll have to speak to the Headman before I can take it,” I said.

“It was your spear that brought death to this bear. The Headman will let you have the hide. You may have need of it, for winters grow cold by the lake.”

I had my sheepskin coat and would not need this hide as well. It came to me that Yerlan might not be pleased by my success. Even after nearly two seasons, Yerlan had not warmed toward me, and I pondered what I would say to him.

It took us the rest of that day to reach the camp with our burden. The hunters rested as other men labored over the carcass. Tired as I was, I roused myself and went to Yerlan.

He sat outside his dwelling; a furry hide protected him against the cold night air. Behind him, the fire of his hearth glowed. His head was bowed as though he were deep in thought.

“Greetings, Headman,” I said as I sat down. “We have brought back a bear, and it was my spear that carried his death to him.”

“Then you’ll have a hide, Vilan.”

“I have this coat I wear and the skin of a cat as well. They’ll serve me during the coming season. I have seen your skill as a hunter and, had you been with us, your spear would have brought him down, not mine. I would give this hide to you.”

He scowled. “I’ve proven myself as a hunter. I have hides enough. I do not need the gifts one would give to an old man.”

I had only insulted him with my offer. “I have not spoken well,” I said quickly. “It is my wish that you have this hide to take to the Holy Ones.” I was thinking of Nallei then, of how she shivered in the cold. “It is you who should make this gift to Them, not I, for it is you who are the leader and the greatest hunter here. The Holy Ones will thank you for it.”

He was silent. His eyes were hidden by the darkness, and I did not know what he was thinking. One mistake, I knew, could turn him against me.

“I am pleased,” he said at last. “The Holy Ones do me honor, but it is you the younger One smiles upon most often.” I steadied myself. “Now, She will smile upon me, and thank me.”

The other hunters were drawing near. Yerlan waved them away. “My words are for Vilan,” he said. “Leave us.” The others backed away. “What favor do you seek, Vilan? Another time with the Holy Ones on Their island? I have sent you there often enough.”

“It is always an honor to serve the Holy Ones,” I said carefully, “but it’s also an honor to be part of your band.”

“I have sent you there, and the Holy Ones don’t find you displeasing, and yet the black-haired Lady has not yet called you to Her side. She calls fewer now, and almost none of the younger men. Do you think that displaying yourself before Her more often will cause Her to call you?”

“A man always prays for the Lady’s blessing.”

“You may pray for it. I receive it at the time of the full moon, always.” His hand passed over his groin. “I say this to you now. A part of me knows that it’s right that She grants Her blessing to others, and yet my soul rages when She lies with another man.”

“She would not prefer me to you, Headman. I don’t think She will call me.”

“Perhaps it isn’t the black-haired Lady you long for most, beautiful as She is. Perhaps it is the younger One you want. A time may come when She will welcome the holy state, when the invisible spirits guide Her to us. If that is so, it is I who will lie with Her, who will feel Her body under mine.”

I swallowed hard. My face burned. I wanted to mar his handsome face, to bury my knife in his chest.

“It’s the brown-haired One you long for,” he continued. “I see it when She walks by and you lower your eyes to hide your thoughts. Do you think you can hide them from Her? Do you think you can hide them from me?”

“I have only the longing the others in the band share,” I replied.

“There is more in your eyes than their longing, more than their awe.”

I was frightened then. “It was to me that the Lady first revealed Herself,” I said. “During our journey here, I came to hope that I would have a special place in Her thoughts, but that was not to be, although She honors me as Her messenger. She will not call me, Yerlan, and will call no one else. To me, She shows only the kindness She would show any man who had protected Her and brought Her to this fine band. It’s true that I long for more than Her kindness, but I am content with that.”

Yerlan began to murmur to me then of the pleasures he had shared with Nallei. Although he used holy words to speak of them, his talk made my gorge rise. No respect was in his voice, and he spoke of Nallei as if she were no more than a vessel for his lusts.

It came to me then that Yerlan, who had been with Nallei so often, might have grown aware of her true nature. In all of his talk, there was also a message for me. I am the Headman, Yerlan was saying. This pleasure will be mine; it will not be yours unless the Lady chooses you, and it may be that I can see She does not choose you. I wondered what he would think if he knew that Nallei hated what he did.

Somehow, throughout his coarse talk, I kept my senses. Birana had come to me. Yerlan would never know those pleasures; he would never have Birana welcome him.

“I am honored that you speak of these holy matters to me,” I said when he was finished, “but it isn’t my place to hear them.”

“It may be time you had a higher place,” he said. “You haven’t done badly for one who came to us as a stranger, for one who is still so young. You are a worthy enough hunter, and Wirlan tells me you begin to master some of his healing lore.” He paused. “It is my wish that you move your belongings to my hearth, to my dwelling, and that you become one of those closest to me.”

I had not wanted this honor, nor had I expected it. He was not doing this in the hope I would lie with him, for the others had told me he sought no love from men since lying with Nallei. He was not just showing respect; he wanted me close, where he could watch me. I would be in more danger now.

“I am honored,” I replied, putting as much conviction into the words as I could.

 

 

My place at Yerlan’s hearth and the knowledge that he would be watching me was enough to make me cautious. My worries tainted even those few moments I had alone with Birana. I was afraid to take too much pleasure with her for fear that the Headman might glimpse my joy and wonder at its cause when I returned to the camp.

We brought baskets of food, enough for days, to the hut, for during the winter months there were times when the band could not reach the island. The bay, shallower than the rest of the lake, froze during the coldest times. Sometimes men could walk over the ice to the island, but on other days, the ice was too thin, and we often had to pound at the ice and break it to make a path for the boats. Twice the full moon came and went without a ceremony while snowstorms hid the island from view.

I had thought the winter might take the Prayergiver from us, but the old man, frail as he looked, grew no weaker. Others were not as fortunate. One of Tulan’s friends burned with a fever, lost the power to breathe, and died. A man nearly as old as the Prayergiver died quietly in the night. Another man, while fishing by a hole in the ice, fell through it and was claimed by the lake. It was Nallei’s task, and Birana’s, to stand over the bodies and recite holy words, telling the band that the souls of the dead ones were at peace with the Lady. The band accepted this, believing that the two had not used their powers to save the men because their souls would be happier in the next world.

These deaths, along with the fevers and aches that came over many in this season, led me to spend even more time with Wirlan. He shared his lore of herbs and potions that could cool a fevered one or calm the belly of a man who could not hold his food. I learned how to clean wounds, how to bind a broken limb, how to keep an injury from festering. I also learned more of his thoughts.

We had tended Dagelan, one of the hunters, for four days, fearing for his life until his fever broke and we knew he would live. As I left his dwelling with the healer, I said, “The Headman will send me to the island tomorrow. I would have more datura to take to the black-haired Holy One.”

He glanced at me. “Does She drink so much of it now?”

“It eases the aches of the body that holds Her spirit.”

His brown eyes narrowed, and a thoughtful look passed over his thin face. He pulled his hood over his graying hair, then drew me aside. “The Holy Ones share many of our weaknesses,” he murmured.

“It is Their bodies that share them, but Their spirits…”

“I know of bodies. I do not know of spirits. Lirilan and Paslan learn from me of the body but think their chants and spells hasten the healing. I don’t object, for if an ill man believes in such things also, he may be eased; but you, Vilan, are wiser than that.”

We walked toward the lake. Wirlan halted at the edge of the ice and stared out at the island. “Dagelan will grow stronger, not because of spells and prayers, but because he’s young and able to fight his illness. Metlan will die this winter or next, not because the Lady wants him in the next world, but because the few teeth he has left don’t allow him to chew the food he needs. I can share such thoughts with you, and you may become a better healer for seeing this. Paslan and Lirilan would only shake their heads and make signs against evil.”

I had not protested when Wirlan first spoke to me in this way. Although I had hidden my own thoughts from him, my silence as I listened and his knowledge that I kept his words to myself had convinced him that he could be open with me.

“I have been called to the Lady’s side,” he continued, “and not just to share Her holy state but for another reason, years ago. I swore that I would not speak of it, but I shall tell you this. Her spirit has little power over Her body, and I fear that She may grow weaker still.”

“You have told me of this,” I said.

“I have not told you what I will say now. Since She came among us, the faith of others has grown, but I have become more troubled. I see a being not unlike us, and when I think of the enclave now, I imagine other beings with such bodies hiding behind their wall so that we can’t see what they are. I don’t know where a man’s soul goes when he dies, but I do not think it goes there, to the Lady’s realm. Perhaps it is only carried away by the wind and is no more. I have seen many men die and know what has brought their death to them. I have seen no sign of spirits. I have seen no sign of the Lady’s power even though two of Her kind dwell among us.”

“It is said that the Lady tests our faith when we’re tempted to doubt,” I said.

“Why would the Goddess test us in that way, by having us see weakness and by wanting us to believe She is other than what we see? It is what we can see and touch and learn about that makes us wiser and better servants of the Lady. Only a malign spirit would seek to show us one thing and have us deny the evidence of our eyes. But I know of no evil spirits, either—only of the illnesses and pains life brings, and my eyes tell me that the two Holy Ones are subject to the same ills.”

I wanted to tell him of what I had learned from Birana but held back. Even Wirlan might betray me if he knew what was between us, and now I feared that, if he could see some truth, other men would as well.

“I do believe this,” I said at last, “that Their bodies are much like ours. But there may also be power in Them that we cannot see. Because we cannot see a spirit or power, it does not mean that it isn’t present. I’ll never see most of the men of Earth and yet know that they exist.”

Wirlan pressed his thin lips together, clearly disappointed in me.

Whether Yerlan still doubted me, I could not tell. He had wondered at my refusal when others of his men wanted to lie with me, but I was often with Tulan, and it was easy to allow the Headman to believe that I lay with the boy. I asked Yerlan’s advice and listened to his tales while telling him some of those Wanderer had told to me. I hunted with him on warmer days for fresh meat. A bond of a sort began to form between us, and our actions were those of two friends, whatever lay hidden in his heart and in mine.

Perhaps I would have been more wary of Yerlan if I had been enjoying Birana’s body during that season, but the winter had made that impossible. Birana could not urge Nallei to leave the warmth of the hut without risking her companion’s health, and the two of us could not lie on the snow or the frozen ground. When we walked around the island, practiced with our bows, or rode on the horses along the trail, I came to know a calmer joy with her. I had thought my desires would grow. Instead, they grew duller and more distant, as if it were the satisfying of them that fed them. I could be easier with Yerlan then, for I had nothing to conceal.

So the winter passed, that time when men keep close to their camps, live off what they have provided for themselves, and tell stories around the fire. This winter was easier than others I had known, for we had enough food and our dwellings were warm. Wirlan’s potions eased Nallei’s aches, and although there were more strands of silver in her dark hair, her face kept its beauty. I knew some peace, both at Yerlan’s hearth and in my soul.

 

 

During the winter, Birana told me more of life in her enclave. She spoke of mothers and daughters and clans of women who were related, and I saw that the enclave had bands of women, although they lived peacefully together. She spoke of how men were called and why the seed of many men was sought, speaking of men and women as the band’s gardeners sometimes talked of their plants. I knew that my seed had been taken and wondered if it now grew inside one of her kind.

There was sadness in her as she spoke of the enclave. At first, I believed this was because she longed for her old comforts and the enclave’s easier ways. But she was saddened also because of the things she would now never know and that the enclave’s magic might have revealed to her.

The enclaves had many strange arts, and one of these was the use of signs by which the women could set down the words they spoke and thought. Not only could they speak to one another through their magic windows and hear the words of one far away, but they could also look at markings and know the thoughts of those long dead. Their legends were tales Birana called history, and it was through their symbols, not just through stories passed by an older woman to a younger one, that they learned of ancient times. As she told me of these symbols, she traced markings in the snow with a stick and said that these signified my name. Then she traced other markings and said that they were her name. I gazed at them in wonder, afraid to sweep them away, as if I might erase us from the world.

Other markings were used to set down numbers, and these were even more mysterious. The women did not use these symbols only to count, but to understand magic that could not be put into words. It was this magic, which Birana called mathematics, that she had been learning before she was sent into my world.

This was what I learned when we spoke—that there was a world in Birana’s mind that grew ever more mysterious as she told me more about it, a world that men had known and mastered and had lost, a world I could never share with her. I had not felt this when my body met hers, but I felt it now, and the pain of knowing it grieved me. She spoke of a time before there was time, and of days when the stars were young. She spoke of dark stars where even the light was held by a mighty power and could not escape to shine upon the earth. She told me of the end of time, when the stars would die as they were drawn together. I listened in wonder, afraid to speak, unwilling to let her see how little I understood.

A day came when tiny green shoots appeared on the land and I smelled the scent of approaching spring. My body was roused again, and Birana came to me in the night while Tulan slept. Her body was new and fresh to me, and yet I knew how to pleasure it now.

 

 

Birana grew more skilled with her weapons. During that spring and summer, we often left the camp on our horses to hunt small game or to scavenge what predators had left. On a hillside to the south of the camp, near the top where I could see what lay below, I found a small glade where we could lie together without fear, where our voices could cry out our joy aloud. We sought each other out as much as we dared, knowing that winter would come again.

At other times, I rode out with Tulan. He spoke so often to me of his doings that I did not see that he might be hiding other thoughts. I was at ease with the boy. He had told no one that Birana and I were often by ourselves on the island. I believed myself safe until a day when he revealed that he had seen more than I knew.

We had ridden out to a strawberry patch where fruit was plentiful. Tulan had found the patch before, but it was far from the camp and I decided we would rest there and pick the berries in the morning before our return.

“The Holy Ones will be happy to have fruit,” I said as I lighted our fire, “and there is enough here for many of the men as well.”

Tulan drew up his legs. “You do not need to bring the Holy Ones many gifts. The brown-haired Holy Lady would favor you greatly even if you brought Her nothing.”

I glanced at him. “She favors me no more than others.”

“The others may believe that, but I am the one with you when you guard Her. She often seeks solitude with you.”

I told myself that he could have seen nothing, that I would have heard his movements if he had been near. “The black-haired Lady also seeks solitude with you, Tulan. She knows that Yerlan has some liking for you and that you can speak of him together, but She also enjoys hearing of what you and the boys are learning. She does not often have the chance to speak with a boy.”

“You leave my side in the night,” he said then. “You think I sleep, but sometimes I am awake.” He looked away and covered his face with his dark hair, as though suddenly sorry he had said those words.

I sat very still. “Sometimes I cannot sleep,” I said carefully. “Sometimes the brown-haired Lady is also awake, and we talk where we won’t wake you or Her companion.”

“Then why do you talk only when you think I’m asleep? Does She say words to you that She cannot say to me? Why do I feel you waiting as I lie next to you? Couldn’t you talk to me? Could She not come and speak to you there when I’m awake?”

I wanted to force him to tell me what he suspected but kept calm. “It is only…” I searched for words. “What is it, Tulan? Do you think that She doesn’t welcome your presence? She has a liking for you—you are the one who cares for Her horses. You came here with us, you’ll always have a special place in Her thoughts.”

His mouth twisted. “It is not Her thoughts I care about,” he said softly. His brown cheeks reddened. “I am closer to you than to anyone. Some of the men say you lie with me. You don’t deny it, you let them believe it. Yerlan believes it, too.”

“Do you want me to deny it?” I asked.

“I want you to make it true,” he answered.

I had been blind, so full of thoughts of Birana that I had not seen what was in the boy’s heart. “Tulan,” I said gently, “I do not deny such talk, because men might force themselves on you otherwise. This way, they believe I would protect you. Isn’t that why you allow the band to believe it?”

He shook his head. “I want them to believe it, that you want me, that you will come to me.”

“It is this way,” I said, as I stirred the fire. “I cannot lie with one so young. You must know of such men—Wirlan is another like me—who can only be satisfied with a man close to their own age, instead of with a boy who is weaker and unable to resist.”

“I am not weak and I’m not a small boy any more.” It was so. He was broader in the chest; he had grown taller during the winter, and his voice had deepened a little. “I wait,” he continued, “and you do not lie with me. You lie with no other. You would rather talk to Her than lie with me. Her spell is strong on you.”

“Be careful what you say.”

“I will say it!” he shouted. “I long for the day when She may be taken from us so that you’ll come to me. I look at Her and dream that She will vanish, that She’ll break the spell She has on you.”

I grabbed his wrist. “Those are evil words.”

“They’re true words! Let Her strike me down for it! If I cannot be with you, I don’t care what happens!” He pulled me to him then, pressing his face against my chest as I tried to think of how to reply.

“She would not harm you,” I murmured, “but She will see into your soul. If you harbor such thoughts about the Lady, She will no longer welcome us on Her island, and then we would both be dishonored before Yerlan and the band. Do you want that?”

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t.”

“You dreamed of escaping before.”

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

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

“They are my horses. I’ll forbid it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Birana…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Birana whispered.

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

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

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

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

“And you can do nothing?”

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

“How can you tell him this?”

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can be of little use,” I said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Return to your camp then,” the Prayergiver said. “Send my greetings to your Headman and Prayergiver. I see that I’ll have to pray for your band as well. I would speak alone to this man now.”

The Prayergiver drew me to one side as Wirlan and Aklan left us. “When I traveled with you and the Holy One,” he murmured, “I thought that She might not be what She seemed, and yet this band accepted Her. My doubts were quieted, but now they come upon me again. I wonder if it was holiness I brought here.”

“It was holiness,” I said. “The Lady struggles against the evil. She’ll find a way to bring life to this band and the lake once more.” I tried to sound convincing.

“We cannot wait. We grow weaker. We must travel to other lands while we still have the strength to do so.”

“They will be strange lands, and you know this one,” I said. “The lake will still give you water and some fish. Other creatures seeking the water may come here and give us game, and there are still the plants that grow on the banks. You know what dangers you face here—you’ll face new ones in another place.”

The Prayergiver shook his head. “It is not only the drought that drives us away, but what it signifies. Holy Ones dwell with you, and yet the Lady has turned Her face from this land. I now wonder what I brought here. But we have a truce with these men and are not strong enough to force the truth from them, even if we did not. I have prayed. The Lady is telling us that it is time to leave this lake until She smiles upon it once more, until the evil is gone.”

I said nothing.

“Jerlan wants to lead us south,” he continued, “for a traveler not long ago told us that the south still thrives. It may be that the time has come for me to say my prayers in a shrine again, to appeal to the Lady in that way.”

I gripped his arm. “You cannot do that. The Lady…”

“Can saying my prayers in a shrine bring any more evil upon us?”

What could I say to him? I could not tell him that those in an enclave might probe his mind and learn of Birana and Nallei. “I am a member of this band,” I said at last, “and our customs are yours. It’s the duty of a Prayergiver to pray in his camp, wherever that camp might be. Your men will need to see you praying for them even more now and keeping to your customs in another land. Others can pray for your band in the shrines.”

He nodded gravely. “There is something in your words,” he said, but I could not tell if he would heed them. “I shall pray for you, Arvil. I must leave you now with whatever lies inside your camp. Tell Tulan that his guardian…” He was silent for a moment. “Jerlan would want the boy with him, but Tulan’s bond is with this band now. Farewell.”

 

 

Even word of Jerlan’s band and their decision did nothing to rouse Yerlan. He continued to sit before his dwelling, brooding in silence, sleeping on the ground in front of the entrance. He ate little of the food left for him, and others took what remained, spoiled and fly-marked as it was. Stubble grew on his face, and his light brown hair grew darker with dirt. It was left to Wirlan and Aklan to guide the band, and others did not follow them easily. Often, the men would sit on the shore, as silent as their leader, looking up at the sky for signs of rain or gazing out at the island hopelessly.

I knew what I had to do, yet days passed before I could force myself to approach Wirlan. I still feared that Birana would not speak to me, that I had wounded her too deeply. At last I went to the healer and asked him if I could go to the island. He agreed easily, for some of the men had grown fearful of the island, and there were few willing to go.

Tulan came with me. I had grown used to his sullen silences and to the dark look in his eyes when he gazed at me. But he seemed happier this time and spoke to me with his old friendliness. I felt easier with him by the time we reached the island, happier that he was with me.

I left him by the boat and climbed toward the hut. Nallei was lying outside on her mat, away from the closeness of the air inside. Her body seemed no more than bones under her loose shirt, while her hands were claws folded over her chest. Her bare legs were so thin that I might have circled one thigh with the fingers of one hand. Birana looked up at me, then covered Nallei with a hide.

A fire burned outside the hut. I knelt there, brewed a potion, and handed it to Birana. I had used one of Wirlan’s most powerful roots, one he had dried on his rack for years, one he gave only when a pain was too great for even a brave man to endure. Birana lifted Nallei’s head and held the cup to her lips. Nallei drank, gave out a cry, and fell back. Her clawlike hands clutched at Birana’s sleeve as she moaned piteously.

The sight of Nallei’s suffering tormented me; I saw now why Wirlan viewed the world as he did. There was no meaning in such pain, no purpose; no evil deserved such agony. Nallei cried out, bit her lip until it bled, then began to grow quieter.

“I am not very brave,” Nallei rasped.

“You are braver than many men would be,” I said. She smiled a little; I marveled that she could smile in such a state. “Birana,” I continued, “I must speak to you.” Her blue eyes gazed at me coldly. I had said nothing to her since the day I struck her. “I have much to say to you.”

“I can’t leave Nallei now.”

“Then later, when she rests. Come to me tonight at the place where we have met before.”

She said nothing.

I stood up. “I’ll wait for you, and if you do not come, then there’s nothing more I can do for you. I cannot force you to save yourself.”

Nallei lifted a hand. “She will come, Arvil,” she murmured in her weak voice. “I’ll see to it.”

 

 

Tulan, who had tried to cheer me during the day, grew more solemn as we ate our evening meal. As he stretched out to sleep, he reached for my hand. “Vilan…”

“What is it?”

“I still wait. Can you lie with me?”

“Tulan, I cannot think of such things now while the Holy One grows weaker.”

“You will never come to me, then.”

“This isn’t the time to speak of it,” I said harshly.

He let go of my hand and turned his back to me. I touched his head gently. He pushed me away.

I listened impatiently to the sound of his breathing until I was sure he was asleep, then went to the place under the trees where I was to meet Birana. I sat there for a long time, lost in my thoughts. Perhaps she would not come, perhaps her anger with me was still too great.

I did not hear her approach. She was suddenly before me, a shadowy form in the darkness. I got to my feet.

“Nallei’s asleep,” she said. “She sleeps so little now. I couldn’t leave her before. She kept insisting that I go to you, but…” She came toward me and rested her head on my chest. “I don’t want to be angry at you any more, Arvil. I know you didn’t mean it. I thought you might never…”

“Listen to me. We must escape—now, as soon as we can. Tomorrow you will come with me to the camp and we’ll ride away together.” She did not speak. “Are you going to tell me you must stay with Nallei still? I cannot believe she would ask it if you would be safer somewhere else.”

She lifted her head. “She wants me to leave with you. She told me so before. Even in her pain, she was able to tell me that.” Her shoulders shook as a sob escaped her. “She keeps trying to protect me even now, and I can do so little for her.”

“I’ll have Wirlan come to tend her. I don’t think she will suffer much longer.” I stroked her hair. “Will you come with me?”

“Yes.”

I drew her down beside me, feeling how much I had missed her. My hands moved over her until her breath came in short, sharp gasps as I loved her in all the ways she loved best. We would escape and find a place where we could love without fear. I felt her warmth around me as I entered, and my soul sang.

 

 

I was awake. I searched the ground next to me and knew that Birana was gone. I opened my eyes as I sat up. The sky was growing gray. Tulan might be awake, searching for me. I could tell him that I awoke early and had gone to tend Nallei.

I stood up and stretched. The midsummer heat was fierce even this early in the day. The air was still. Only a distant, whining sound reached my ears.

I suddenly understood what I was hearing. As the whine grew louder, I threw myself to the ground and crawled under a log. A ship was overhead. I caught a glimpse of its gleam as the orb flew over the island and on toward the camp.

I waited but heard no cries of terror, no sound of men falling under the Lady’s deadly rays. At last I struggled to my feet and hastened to the hut.

The fire still burned near Nallei. Birana stood in the doorway of the hut. “I was inside,” she said. “The ship didn’t see me, but Nallei…” She waved a hand at the mat.

I bent over Nallei. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful in sleep. I wondered if she had seen the ship. “What can it mean?” I asked.

Birana shook her head. “I don’t know. It may have been a passenger ship on an unusual course, or a city might have sent it here. Someone may suspect…”

“We have to leave now,” I said.

She came to Nallei’s mat. “Farewell,” she whispered. Only the slight movement of Nallei’s chest showed that she still lived. She might welcome a ship now, I thought. At least such a death would be a quick one.

“Farewell,” I said.

We hurried down the trail. Voices were already reaching us from the distant camp. The men would be wondering what the ship’s appearance meant. I picked up my pace, then slowed so that Birana could catch up to me. We came to the end of the trail and stopped by the rocks.

The boat was gone. Birana sank down onto a rock. I gazed over the lake, bewildered. “It is nothing,” I forced myself to say. “Perhaps Tulan is fetching more food. He’ll return soon.” I sat down next to her, trying not to show my fear.

 

 

A boat came, but Tulan was not aboard. As the two men paddled toward us, I stood up to greet them.

“Greetings, Balan,” I said to one of the men, expecting to see his quick smile. He continued to frown and said nothing to me as he stepped from the boat. “I’ll help you pull the boat ashore.”

Balan shook his head. “You are to return to the camp with Dagelan. I’ll wait here to guard the Holy Ones. The Headman is himself again and wishes to speak to you. The portent we saw at dawn has returned his spirit to him.”

“I shall also return to the camp,” Birana said.

Balan’s dark hair swayed as he shook his head. “Forgive me, Holy Lady, but it is the Headman’s wish that You remain here.”

“I want to go to the camp. Will you disobey Me?”

Balan drew himself up. “Forgive me, Holy One, but Yerlan would have You rest here where You will be free to commune with the invisible spirits that might lift our curse from us. We have seen one holy sign today, a sight the men have seen only during the times we once traveled to Your holy enclave. We believe the Lady may break the spell and reward us for keeping You safe even during this troubled time.”

“The Holy One will stay,” I muttered, knowing we had no choice.

I climbed into the boat. I felt Dagelan watching me as we moved over the water, but he did not speak.

Yerlan had left his dwelling. Dagelan led me to the garden. Yerlan was pacing over the dry, dusty ground, Tulan at his side. He faced me as I approached; he had cut the stubble from his face. He smiled, showing his teeth.

“I have seen a portent,” he said. “Smell the air, Vilan.” He came closer to me. “Do you not smell the scent of rain to come?”

I could smell nothing but dust and the sweat of his body. A few of the hunters gathered behind me, and I was suddenly wary of keeping my back to them. The gardeners near us set down their tools and stood by their wilted plants.

“It was Tulan’s duty to aid me in guarding the Holy Ones,” I said. “He should have told me he was coming here.”

Yerlan put an arm around the boy’s shoulders; Tulan’s lip curled as he watched me. “He awoke. You were not at his side. He was sure that you were tending the golden-eyed Holy Lady and thought you might have need of more herbs from the healer. He would have returned to you, but then the Lady’s holy sign appeared. In his wonderment, the boy forgot to fetch the herbs.”

“I will take them to Her now,” I said.

“I’ll take them. It is time I went to the island. Wirlan will come with me, and Tulan also, since he has served both me and the Lady so well. You will remain here, Vilan.”

He turned, his arm still around Tulan, and walked toward the tree where the horses were tied. Star lifted her head and neighed softly as Wild Spirit tossed her mane. “These beasts are too weak to do much labor for us, and yet we must feed them some of what little we have.”

“They can become food,” one of the men behind me said.

“It is so,” Yerlan replied, “but see how thin they grow. Such meat would be hard to chew.”

“Even such meat would be welcome now,” Dagelan muttered.

“Indeed,” the Headman said, “but perhaps it’s not only lack of food that makes them weak. Perhaps some illness is in them that might be passed to us. And there is this to consider. A Holy One brought these beasts to us. We promised Her they would not be harmed. Can we break such a promise now that the Lady has sent us a portent?”

“We cannot,” another man said.

Yerlan stroked his chin thoughtfully. “We cannot harm them but must feed them while they are here. There is only one answer to this. They must be set free.”

“No,” I shouted.

“Do you question me?” Yerlan cried.

“They are the Lady’s. She will say what should be done.”

“I will say what should be done! The Lady has sent me a sign; Her power is in me now. She will speak through me to you. She would have us save what food we can until the rains come again. We cannot feed the horses, so they must be set free.”

I lunged toward him. He knocked me to the ground with one blow. Two men grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet. “Be careful, Vilan,” the Headman muttered, “or there will have to be a contest between us.” He waved an arm. I watched helplessly as Tulan ran toward the horses, untied them, and slipped the reins from their heads.

“Go!” Tulan cried, lashing their backs with the reins. The horses trotted away, then slowed; Flame lifted her head and looked back toward us. “Go!” Tulan ran after them, lashing at them unmercifully until they had passed through the wall. The guards on the wall whistled and threw clods of dirt at the animals until they had disappeared.

My hope for an escape was gone. I gazed into Yerlan’s dark, angry eyes, certain now that he knew everything, that he had even learned of our plan to escape. Only one could have told him, could have overheard me tell my plans to Birana. Terror filled me as I wondered what else Tulan might have seen. I had spurned him. He had paid me back by betraying me.

“You have questioned me,” Yerlan said as Tulan returned to his side. “You have raised your hand to me, a Headman who honored you with a place at my hearth. There is an evil inside you, Vilan.”

I believed he would kill me at that moment. His hand reached for my neck, but his touch was light as he drew his fingers down my chest and then touched my member. “But you are also a man who brought a Holy One to us.” He stepped back. “Aklan, you will watch over the camp while I go to the Holy Ones. Let Vilan labor to dig us a new trench for our wastes and to cover the old one. It is time he learned to be more humble. Be certain that he doesn’t leave this camp.”

He strode toward the boats with the boy as I was led away.