The Shore of Women (50 page)

BIRANA

Nallei was sleeping, I sat with her, wanting desperately to speak to her, but knew that awakening her would only make her conscious of her pain.

I had expected her to unburden herself before dying, but she suffered silently. During the past days, she had even stifled her moans at night, as though she feared waking me. I wanted her to open her eyes one last time, to listen as I told her how much she had meant to me, and yet I also hoped that she might slip away peacefully. I did not want her to learn of the ship; I wanted her to die easily, believing I would still live.

Balan was squatting by the hut; he stood up and pointed down the slope. Two men were climbing toward us along the trail. My hopes for escape had already faded; when I saw Yerlan walking toward me, the little hope I had left died.

Wirlan was with him. The healer knelt by the fire and set out his pouches of roots and herbs. Yerlan watched me for a long moment, then beckoned to Balan. “Go to the boat,” he commanded. “The boy Tulan waits below. Stay there while I speak to the Holy Ones.”

As Balan left, Yerlan sat down at Nallei’s side. His hand trembled as he smoothed back her silvery hair. His face contorted; he cried out and gathered her up in his arms. “You cannot leave me. You cannot die.”

Nallei stirred and moaned softly as I moved toward them. “You mustn’t,” I said. “She’s in terrible pain. You must let her rest.”

He set her down gently and lay at her side, his hand covering hers. Wirlan gave me a cup; Yerlan took it from me and guided it to her lips. The healer stood up and motioned to me. “Let us leave them for a little,” he said.

We went into the trees; he stopped and leaned against a trunk. “Lady,” he said, “I must tell You something I think You would want to know. Yerlan has returned to himself, but he is now angry with Your messenger, Vilan. The Headman has raised his hand to Vilan and shamed him before the band, but at least he allows him to live.”

I clasped my hands together. “Is he all right?”

“He won’t be harmed for now, but I urge You to be cautious with the Headman.” Wirlan folded his arms. “The sight of the Lady’s ship has changed him. He speaks of our curse being lifted, of rains that will come. This morning, after we sighted the Lady’s orb, he went to the horses and freed them.” I let out a gasp. “He said he would not harm them, but that we could no longer feed them. I know they were Your creatures, but they might have given us meat. The Headman did a foolish thing for You, Holy One.” He paused. “Vilan spoke against this act and raised his hand to Yerlan. It is a wonder the Headman didn’t kill him then.”

I tried to calm myself. “Wirlan, I’ll tell you what that ship might mean. This camp may be in danger now. Don’t ask Me how I know this, just believe Me. The men would be safer if they left, if they went far away. Someone has to tell them this. There may be little time.”

He shook his head. “They will not listen to me.”

“I can tell them. Take Me to the camp—they’ll listen to Me.”

“You cannot lift this curse. This is what they will say. They see hope in the omen. They won’t abandon the land where they have lived for so long. Your power wanes, Lady. Don’t give them a reason to believe that an evil spirit might be speaking through You and that it was evil You brought with You here.”

“Is that what you believe?”

His lip curled. “I do not deal with spirits, only with what I can see. What I see is that You may have reason to lie in order to keep Your messenger safe from Yerlan.”

“I’m not lying!”

“I cannot know that, Lady.”

I held out my hands. “Please listen to Me.”

“I have served the Headman and the one before him for all my life. I won’t turn against him now, when our band may need him most. You would be wiser to give the Headman no reason to vent his rage upon Vilan. He is still the best of those who have learned healing from me, and I would not want to lose his skill.”

I went back to the hut. Yerlan sprawled at Nallei’s side, stroking her hands. He lifted himself on an elbow and looked across at me. “I hear Her moans,” he said, “I feel Her pain.” Nallei’s lips moved; he bent to hear her.

As Wirlan came near, Yerlan sat up. “Healer, I must ask you this now. What would you do for a man who suffers in this way?”

“I can only ease the pain until death comes.”

“And if you knew he would suffer for many days before death could claim him, what would you do then?”

Wirlan’s face hardened. “I shouldn’t say this to you, for it is a secret of my craft. There is a potion I can give that will bring an easy death.”

Yerlan cradled Nallei’s head in his arms. “If you could restore Her to what She was, I could bear the sight of Her pain. If you could take Her disease and pain from Her, while leaving Her as She is now, I would rejoice that She lived, and the memory of Her beauty would make Her seem beautiful to me again. But I cannot bear to see Her pain prolonged when there’s no hope.”

“There is no hope, Headman.”

“Then you know what you must do,” Yerlan said. Wirlan nodded. “Brew your potion and then go to Balan and the boy. I would have them go to the camp and bring those who are closest to me here. We will not speak of your potion. I won’t have them know that it is we who will free Her spirit at last.”

Yerlan sat with her for the rest of the day. It was he who cleaned her, gave her what little she could drink, covered her with a hide when she shivered, and soothed her with whispered words. A covered jug with Wirlan’s potion stood next to him, yet he held back from giving it to her.

He would not let me tend Nallei. Tears glistened in his dark eyes, but he did not let them fall. I thought of all the times he had entered the hut with her and of the cruel smile on his face when Nallei had ordered me away from the hut so that he could lie with her. I had not known there was any tenderness in him.

By late afternoon, we heard the sound of voices below. Wirlan stood up, “Headman, your men approach,” the healer said. “It is time.”

Yerlan closed his eyes for a moment, then reached for the jug, pouring the liquid into a cup. He held Nallei as she drank. I watched as he gave her another cup; he warded me off as I tried to move closer.

The men gathered below us; Arvil was not among them, although I knew Nallei would have wanted him there. Wirlan raised his arms. “The Lady’s body weakens,” he said. “I believe Her spirit will leave us soon.”

The men had known she might die, but a few cried out at this; Aklan covered his face as he leaned against Balan. Only Tulan, head bowed, was still. I saw Nallei whisper to Yerlan as he folded her arms over her chest.

I could no longer restrain myself. I crawled to her side and leaned over her, ignoring Yerlan. “I’m here,” I whispered.

“You will live, child,” she said faintly.

“Because of you, because you helped me.”

She closed her eyes. The men were whispering prayers. I knew she was gone when Yerlan threw himself across her body and wept.

The men fell to the ground, hitting their heads against the earth as they covered their hair with dirt. Wirlan pulled at the Headman’s shoulders and helped him to his feet.

“We must not weep,” Yerlan said at last. “The suffering of Her body is past, and Her spirit will live. It is the time to bury Her body and remember Her spirit. The Lady gave us a sign today. Her ship came to call this Holy One’s spirit to the Goddess. Now Her soul is free, and the evil that lies over the lake will be lifted.”

The men began to dig a grave in the clearing. I knew that they expected some words from me, but I could not speak, knowing I would weep if I did. It was evening when Yerlan placed her body in the grave. I stood with Wirlan, keeping back my tears as Nallei was covered with earth.

Yerlan looked from the grave to me, then held up a hand. His tears were gone; the harder look with which I was so familiar had returned to his face. “The Holy One whispered Her last words to me,” he said, “and I must now reveal them to you. She is gone, but a Holy One still lives among us. Part of Her spirit remains inside this Lady.” He moved his hand in my direction. “She told me that it is now the task of this Holy One to take up Her duties. A full moon comes again in three days. The Lady will be carried into our camp and will commune with the Prayergiver, and will grant Her blessing to me when we return here.”

I gazed at him in horror, too shocked to protest. My legs shook; I stepped back and leaned against the wall of the hut. Yerlan was still speaking to the men. “Return to the camp, all of you. Tell the others that our sorrow is past and that the Lady will smile upon us again. Tulan will wait by my boat for me while I pray here.”

The men filed away from the grave. Weak with sorrow and fear, I sank to the ground. Yerlan stood by the grave, head bowed.

“You lied,” I said at last. “I know what My companion would have said. She never told you such things.”

He lifted his head. “I waited. I wanted her to tell me that she regretted leaving this life, that she understood my longing, that she wanted me with her.” He was no longer speaking of Nallei with the formal words the men used in talking of us; I tensed. “I wanted to ease her, and all she told me was that she would be rid of me, that she wanted to die, that she was happy she was dying at last. She cared nothing for me even then.” He shook a fist. “All those times I went to her, and yet whatever pleasure I took, I could give none to her. She didn’t fight against me—even that could have roused my passion a little. She endured me and drank her wine so that she could forget.”

“It wasn’t in Her power to care for you that way,” I said.

“I longed for her, and she only suffered me. There were times when my power failed me and I couldn’t grow hard with her. She said the potion might have robbed me of my strength, but I rarely drank of it. I didn’t need it to long for her, to worship her. It was she who took my power from me.”

“She hated the touch of men,” I said. “You might have been kinder, reached out to Her, been a companion who didn’t force himself on Her, but you couldn’t do that. You’d rather take what you want even from one who couldn’t bear the sight of you.” It no longer mattered what I said; he could do little more to me.

“I wanted her to welcome me, and she shrank from my touch. You will never be what she was to me, but perhaps I can forget my grief with you. I know now that you don’t despise the touch of a man.”

I felt the blood draining from my face. “What are you saying?” I whispered.

He walked toward me; I could not look up at his face. “I have other eyes,” he said. “Tulan has been my eyes. He has seen what has passed between you and Vilan. Vilan was foolish. He allowed the boy to long for him but did not return his love. He didn’t see that a boy’s fierce love might become hatred and a longing for revenge. Vilan let me believe that he lay with the boy. He would have been wise to do so, but the Lady’s spell was over him by then, that spell that can keep a man from seeking out other men.”

My chest was so tight that I could hardly breathe.

“The boy saw Vilan longed for you,” he continued. “He saw that you were often alone here and that you rode into the wood together. He followed you at a distance and discovered where you went. He began to go out there and wait for you this spring, concealing himself so that you would not discover him. He saw what you and Vilan did under the trees.”

“He lied,” I managed to say. “He’s trying to turn you against Arvil.”

“He did not lie. He could not lie about such a matter. He waited, and you came there. He saw you move your body upon his and described to me what you did. He was frightened when he first saw this—he believed you might punish him for seeing it, and so he kept what he knew to himself, thinking this might be some holy matter he did not understand. Then the land grew parched, and no rain came, and he began to believe that you and Vilan had brought the curse upon us. He knew that you were not to lie with us, yet you lay with him. Perhaps if Vilan had shown him love, he would have kept his secret, but Vilan did not. Tulan heard you both when you were together, planning to escape from us. It was then he knew that he would have to come to me. He told me of your secret this morning, before the omen appeared. He told me much of how you sought pleasures with Vilan.”

I clutched at my stomach, afraid I might be sick. “It is not for you to question My ways,” I said. “You know what I am. Would you bring a greater curse upon yourself?”

“You’ll bring no curse,” he muttered. “You have no powers. I learned this with your companion long ago, that she was a being like us, for I knew her body well. I learned that she had no power over us, that I could do as I liked. But it served me to keep this knowledge to myself to strengthen my position as Headman. It served me to let her believe I still worshipped her so that she would not betray me to others. It will be different with us. You will see me as I am, and I shall know the truth about you.”

“I’ll never lie with you,” I said. “If you carry me into the camp, I’ll denounce you—tell them all you lied.”

“Then Vilan will be the first to die.” He dragged me up and pushed me against the wall of the hut. “Consider his fate before you speak. Tulan will keep your secret for now, but if I don’t have what I want from you, he will speak of what he knows. I will not even have to order Vilan’s death—the men will take his life for bringing a curse upon us.”

He pulled at my shirt as I struggled against him. “Get away from me,” I whispered. He dragged me away from the wall and pushed me through the hut’s entrance; I fell to the dirt floor.

He came toward me; I tried to kick him with my legs. He grabbed my ankles and forced my legs apart, then fell across me, pinning me to the ground. My hand darted toward his face, ready to scratch at his eyes; he held me down with one arm as he fumbled at my belt.

The holds Arvil had taught me were useless. His bare chest was a heavy weight squeezing the breath from me; I was afraid I would faint. He twisted against me as he loosened his belt. I tensed, clenching my teeth.

“I see why she hated you,” I said with what breath I had left. “She hated you, and she mocked you, and sometimes she even pitied you.” He felt at me roughly, hurting me. I stiffened and turned my head from him, unable to struggle any more.