CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) (47 page)

Tron was sitting
across from her.  She saw his eyes flit over her body with an expression
that made her skin feel cold despite the warm fire.  The look seemed to
say that she was his now, to do with as he liked.  It was similar to the
look she had seen in the eyes of the fierce little cats that roamed the area,
when they had caught a mouse or some other small creature.  She looked the
other way.  Meeting Tron had not been as dangerous as she had feared, but
Akat with him was still forbidden, and she would not do it again.

The next day he
came up behind her as she sat by herself washing tubers in the river.  He
placed his hands on her breasts and murmured words in her ear.

"No one
watches anymore," he whispered.  "No one will follow this
time.  Come to me again tonight.  Even to see you brings up my
passion."

Nevilar
gasped.  So she had been right.  He had not spoken, had left so
quickly because he was afraid of being discovered.  And he did care for
her; he had said so. Pleasure welled up in her at the thought.  She turned
to look into his eyes, to see if there was truth in them, but she could see
only desire, perhaps a little of the expression she had seen last night. 
Now, the look seemed exciting.

"Not tonight
- tomorrow," she replied hesitantly, playing for time.  With Tron
fondling her this way, she could not think, and she had to think,
consider. 

"Tonight!" 
His tone was authoritative.  He pinched her breast sharply, to emphasize
the word, then left without waiting for a response.

Nevilar dared not
go that night, for she felt her mother's eyes on her, saw the puzzled look on
her face.  Perhaps, after all, she had noticed something.  But the
next evening, her mother and all the others were busy skinning an animal Katli
and the men had caught, and no one noticed when she slipped away.  This
time, she would make Tron listen to her, tell him that Akat was impossible, but
that she would be his friend.

Again, Tron was
waiting.  He cuffed the side of her face angrily.  "You did not
come."

Tears sprang into
her eyes. "My mother was watching," she protested.

He shrugged and
pulled her down to the ground.  Nevilar started to resist, but Tron's face
became so suffused with fury she dared not protest any further.  She lay
still, torn between guilt and the desire that was building in her.  And
then, in another moment, she did not want him to stop, could not have borne it
if he had stopped.

Again, their union
was fast and passionate; again, Tron left as soon as he had finished. 
This time, Nevilar did not weep.  In this, he was right, she
realized.  They could not risk spending too much time together.  And
perhaps this was what he needed, she told herself, to have her love him without
question.  Perhaps that was why the Mother had kept them from being
discovered.

After that,
Nevilar met Tron as often as she could.  Slowly, the sense that she was
committing a forbidden act faded.  Guilt still tormented her sometimes,
but she pushed it aside.  Tron seemed so much more relaxed now, and even
if she seldom managed to speak to him, she was certain she was changing him,
just by accepting him without question. 

Often, he was
rough with her.  He hit her face or her stomach if she failed to come when
he had expected her, or if he thought she had brought another of the young men
to her mating place.  But she soon learned to distract him from his anger
by encouraging him perform Akat in any way he pleased.  She always wanted
him so badly, so terribly badly.  He seemed to know that, to be reassured
by her need of him.  He needed her just as much.  Nevilar was certain
of it.  The secret knowledge made her feel important, just as important as
Zena, and she was glad.

Zena, too, noticed
the change in Tron.  He was much more agreeable now that they were meeting
alone, and he was improving rapidly.  He could name all the expressions
she could think of, although subtleties were still hard for him.  But as
the weeks went by he became adept even at naming feelings like loneliness, or
bemusement, that sense of half wonder, half amusement at some happening. 

Zena was
gratified, but something about his manner still bothered her.  Months
passed before she realized what it was.  Tron could name feelings of many
kinds, but she was not sure he understood what they were.  She was not
certain, either, that he cared that he had learned to name them.  He was
learning because he had to, but it seemed as if he had never really understood
the reasons for the lessons, nor had he learned to feel the emotions he now
described with such ease.  He could identify them, but they still had no
meaning in his heart.

If she wanted him
to learn to feel as well as know, Zena realized, she would have to stop
avoiding the Mother's mandate.  So far, she had not tried to teach Tron
the subtleties of Akat. The thought frightened her, for how was she to show
different kinds of desire, or use the expressions that meant a woman was ready,
when she had no intention of acting on the feelings she demonstrated?  But
to teach Tron to read a woman's face and heart with regard to Akat was the
point of the lessons, and it was time she began.  Surely, if he learned to
feel the wondrous variety of emotions that accompanied Akat, like compassion
and tenderness and joy and caring, Tron would change, and the horrors the
Mother had portrayed in Menta's vision would never come to pass.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-ONE

Zena followed
Nevilar into the woods.  It was time for them to go to the women's special
shelter, the Ekali.  For three full cycles of the seasons after their
first bleeding, the young women came here when the moon was no more than a sliver,
about ten days after each time of bleeding began.  Four days and nights
passed before they returned to the others.  Akat was not permitted during
this time, and men could not come to the Ekali.  Once, Zena had asked her
mother why this was so.  Lune had replied that the Mother wished it, but
only the wise one knew the reason.  It was forbidden for others to
know.  Zena did not press her further.  Perhaps she would understand
one day, if she became a wise one.

When the three
years had passed, the young women were welcomed into the tribe as full
adults.  After the initiation, any of the women, both young and old, could
come to the Ekali whenever they wished, and they often did, for they loved this
place.  It was theirs alone.  Here, they could speak together in
peace, without the teasing of the men and the clamor of the children, for only
suckling infants were allowed. 

Their favorite
time to come was during their bleeding, when the moon was full. Usually, all
the women bled at the same time. To come to the Ekali at the Life-Blood time,
as they called it, was not required, but they came anyway if they could get
away.  The experience regenerated them.  There was power in the blood
that brought life instead of death, and when they were all together the power
was immense.  It filled their bodies and spirits, gave them new strength,
even as their Life-Blood seeped into the earth and made it fertile, as they
themselves were fertile.

During this time,
they did everything together, as if they were one great woman instead of
many.  They gathered food and prepared it together, making sure to help
each other instead of performing the tasks separately, and ate from the same
pieces of food.  They nursed each other's babies, cleaned each other in
the stream, made the fire and stoked it together at the end of the day. 
Then, when the flames had settled into a warm glow, they sat close beside each
other and began the chant.  Ten times, for all the days that had passed
since they had first seen the moon begin to grow, the chant rose and fell, but
after that, they let the silence fill them.  Within its embrace, they
truly felt themselves as one woman, for they could see each other's thoughts,
feel each other's pain and happiness.  They felt their oneness with the
Mother as well.  They felt closest to Her in this place where only women
came, for She, too, was woman and mother, and could understand their special
problems and joys.

Zena was glad to
be coming again.  Being in the Ekali always gave her strength, and she
needed to feel strong right now, to accomplish the task she had undertaken. To
be away from Tron for a few days would also be welcome.  He had become
more cooperative, but he was still exhausting because she always had to be on
her guard.  She had begun to speak of Akat, trying to show the looks of
willingness, of love and caring as well as desire.  The last one, he
understood easily, though he did not seem to grasp the others very well. 
Whenever she put desire on her face, he moved toward her automatically, as if
he had no control over his actions.  His eyes frightened her. 
Mingled with the lust was a fierce coldness that made her shiver.

She pulled her fur
garment closer around her shoulders.  The season of snow would soon be
upon them.  Already, the beautiful red and orange and yellow leaves had
left the trees, and their bare branches swung in the gusty winds.  As the
days grew colder, storms would come, and the tribe would settle in for the
long, dark time of winter.  Last year, so much snow had fallen that they
had hardly been able to walk.  Each year, the winters seemed to become
longer and harder.

Nevilar was
walking ahead of her, and Zena ran to catch up.  Like herself, Nevilar had
only one more year when she came to the Ekali at this time.  After that,
it was not required, and most of the women soon became too busy with infants
anyway.

Zena frowned,
wondering why that should be so.  It did seem as if infants began to
arrive only after they had ceased to come to the Ekali in the middle of the
moon's cycle.  Of course, they were older then.  Perhaps the Mother
was giving them time before they undertook such a grave responsibility. 
Children needed much care, much love and teaching.

She fell into step
beside Nevilar.  This year, there were no other women who came to the
Ekali at this time, though Lune would join them later, and Zena hoped Nevilar
would be friendly.  They had been friends when they were younger, but she
thought Nevilar had been avoiding her recently.  This was a good
opportunity to become close again.

"You are
happy to be coming to the Ekali?" she asked. 

"I do not
wish to come anymore," Nevilar blurted out.  "I would prefer to
stay with the others."

Zena looked up,
startled by her vehemence.  Nevilar looked strange, almost bruised, she
thought.  There were dark splotches on her cheeks, more on her arms and
chest.

"Have you
hurt yourself, Nevilar?" 

"I fell in
the woods," Nevilar replied.  "It does not hurt any more."

"I will put
herbs on the bruises for you.  That will help, even if they are no longer
hurting." 

Zena's voice was
full of concern, and Nevilar felt tears prickle behind her eyes.  No one
had voiced concern for her for a long time.  Perhaps Zena was not so bad
after all.  She looked the other way, lest Zena see and ask her why she
cried.

It was true that
she had not wanted to come, for it meant leaving Tron.  He had been angry
that she was leaving, and had hit her, told her he needed her to stay with
him.  But now that she was away from him, Nevilar found she was looking
forward to this time alone.  Tron frightened her sometimes.  He
struck her more often now, and even the promise of Akat did not always stop
him.  She knew he lashed out because he was so frustrated at not being
able to hunt with the others, at having to do lessons with Zena instead. 
He also became angry if he suspected she had brought another man to her mating
place.  Nevilar tried not to tell him, but he pinched her breast or her
arm so hard the pain forced her to speak.  He hit her even harder if she
confessed she had been with another.  But she had to ask others; if she
did not, there would be talk.

Nevilar sighed
heavily.  She was glad he cared for her so much that he did not want
others to be with her, and she was proud to be the only one who truly
understood his frustration.  Still, it was hard also to be the only one
with whom he became angry, because he could not show anger with anyone
else. 

Now, for four
days, she would not have to worry about him.  Her steps lightened, and she
ran eagerly into the Ekali, unaware that even as she thought of him, Tron was
staring at her from his hiding place in a tree that overlooked the
enclosure. 

Tron was not sure
why he had followed Nevilar and Zena, except that he enjoyed tricking those who
tried to watch him, and that he liked to do what no one wanted him to do. 
Menta no longer asked someone to watch during his lessons, but he was aware
that Krost or Tragar often kept an eye on him anyway.  Today, Tragar had
been nearby, but he was slow in his thinking, even if he was strong, and Tron
had easily managed to lose him.  And to follow the two young women to the
Ekali excited him.  No men were permitted to be here.  He, Tron, had
come anyway.

He peered into the
enclosure.  He wanted to see what the women did in this place they thought
was so special.  Before, he had not dared to come, for he had been afraid
the Mother would somehow know and punish him.  Now he knew the Mother was
not so powerful after all.  He had disobeyed Her by having Akat with
Nevilar, and nothing had happened.  Menta was not as powerful as she
thought, either, for she had not been able to stop him from doing what he
wanted.  She was only a woman, after all, and women were weak.  He
did not understand why they were considered so important.  Just because
they had young ones, they thought they were special - but most of them could
not even kill the big animals.  That was far more important. 

Zena, especially,
acted superior because one day she might become a wise one.  His eyes
hardened as he watched her enter the Ekali.  He hated her, hated the
lessons, hated the fact that she could tell him what to do.  A woman
should not be able to tell someone like him what to do.  That was
wrong.  And the things she taught him had no meaning.  They were only
words.  What else could they be?  He had never felt these emotions
she spoke of.  He did not think anyone had.  It was just the women's
way of being important.