The Winter Boy

by Sally Wiener Grotta

  After biting into a brownie, Le’a spoke again, slowly, insistently. “At the beginning of this Season, a boy came to us, signing his Agreement, but uncertain what was to come. If you were to continue, it will be a man — an Alleman — who will leave us, far more knowledgeable than most, but still only beginning to learn. Right now, you’re caught in the middle of your Season, unfinished, neither the boy nor the man. Even if you wanted to, you can’t go back to what you were. You’ve learned too much. Your only choice is to either go forward or leave.” She paused long enough that he raised his eyes to her. Only then did she add, “You say you have decided to leave. But I wonder, have you considered where each path would carry you?”

  “I haven’t really thought about the future. I just want to stop the hurting that I do.”

  “So you must. But first, I would like you to describe what you think your life would be like as an Alleman if you stayed.”

  He felt trapped, wanting to get away from this table, from these women and their constant questions that prodded and poked and couldn’t be answered.

  “Dov, before you try to respond, do something else for me, please,” Le’a asked.

  “What?” Trapped, too, by the glimmer of hope Le’a’s words seemed to offer.

  “Close your eyes, and sip the air, the way you’ve learned.”

  A hope that somehow things might go back to the way they were, but better, even though he knew in his heart that would be impossible. Everything good had always been impossible, out of his reach, not meant for the likes of him. Everything but Lilla. But that door, too, was now slammed shut. Lilla’s mother had made it clear — only an Alleman for her daughter.

  “Please,” Le’a said gently. “Focus on the air filling your lungs, slowly.”

  He did as she asked, not because he believed it would help, but because of that faint hope, and because he was stuck here with these women for now, and had no choice.

  “That’s right. Now release the air, through your lips, in a thin stream, slowly… slowly. Again.”

  His breath reached deeper into his lungs with each inhale and exhale, until his heart was quieter and his mind clearer.

  “Yes, good,” Le’a said. “Now tell us how the two paths appear to you, where they would lead you.”

  “If I leave here today, my life would be without you, both of you. I’d be sorry for that. As difficult as you can be, I’d miss you.” He looked at Le’a, and then Tayar. Two women who would go on to live out their lives unconnected to him, as they had before he had come to this Valley. At one glance, they were old and young, strong and vulnerable, needing nothing from him, yet needful.

  “I don’t really see much else about such a life,” he continued, “because I’ve never heard of anyone failing a Season. That’s the worst of it. I would have failed, and I’d carry that shame with me my entire life. But if it meant that I’d be doing the right thing, then what’s the difference if it made me look bad?”

  “What if you stayed?” the younger Allesha asked.

  He shook his head, but decided it wouldn’t hurt to play their games one last time. “If I stayed, I suppose I’d become an Alleman. Lilla would be my wife. But then I’d have to leave her side whenever the Alleshi called for me. Our children would grow up not knowing when they could depend on their father to be with them.”

  “It doesn’t sound like much of a choice.” Le’a paused, then asked, “But tell me, what kind of Alleman would you be if you stayed? What would you want to achieve?”

  The women watched him, not like hunters cornering a prey, but as though they were truly interested in what he had to say. No one had ever asked him what he wanted. No one other than Lilla. He and Lilla had talked a lot about the home they would make, the house they’d build, and how they’d raise their children. It was one of the things that had made him feel so complete when he was with her, knowing it would continue through the years of their life together. But this was more than dreams to share with your future wife. Dov considered the question carefully before answering.

  “I don’t think it’s enough to bring peace to strangers,” he said. “Sure, it’s important, and I’d like to be part of that, but it’s not enough. If I were an Alleman, I’d want to find ways to make life better for the people closer to home.”

  “Yes?” Tayar whispered.

  “It seems to me that all these skills and wisdom that the Allemen are supposed to have should be used to help.”

  “Yes, that is a vital part of being an Alleman — protecting the people within our Peace borders,” Le’a said.

  “No, not just protecting them. Making them feel like they’re part of it, rather than just people who fill villages within the Peace borders. They’re kids and wives and husbands, with names and fears and hopes. They need to be part of all that the Allemen and Alleshi do. Sure, they’re the reason for it, but they’re not part of it, not really. Do you understand?”

  Dov’s eyes burned with his vision of a future he had never before imagined. “If I were an Alleman, I’d work to make that happen, even if it meant changing what it is to be an Alleman. I wouldn’t want anyone to see me as anything more than I am. No magic. Just me. That way, anyone who met me would know that they could do as much good and learn as many skills as any Alleman.”

  “And what of the Mwertik?” Tayar asked softly, almost tentatively.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I’d have to teach our people how to fight them, but it wouldn’t be enough to win that fight, would it?”

  “Why?” Tayar asked.

  “Because the Mwertik aren’t what the Peace is about. It’s the people who live within the Peace.”

  “A most worthy path. Do you see anything its equal in the other direction?” Le’a asked. “What would your life be if you left here today?”

  “Lonely, but I could still try to help people and protect the Peace.”

  “How?”

  “I don’t know how, Le’a, but I could learn.”

  “Yes. I believe you would learn. Though why do it by yourself, when you can learn with us and your fellow Allemen? Is the lonely struggle so enticing to you?”

  “No. But that isn’t the point.” Suddenly, the vision and the hope it had given him were gone. “I destroy things.”

  “Dov, do you agree that you are not the boy you were?” Le’a asked.

  “I suppose so.”

  “In the same vein,” Le’a added, “who you are today is merely the beginning of the person you can become.”

  Why did Dov get the feeling that Le’a was addressing Tayar, as much as she was talking to him?

  Tayar stared at Dara, then reached across the table and lightly touched Dov’s hand. “We can help you.”

  Dov looked from one woman to the other. Moments before, he’d firmly believed that leaving was the right and honorable course. Now he didn’t know what was right or wrong. Dov placed his other hand over Tayar’s, feeling the warmth of her flesh, the solidity of her offer. Embarrassed, he gave a slight chuckle that came out more ironic than mirthful. “I don’t suppose you’re offering to leave with me?”

  “Dov, I don’t believe we could allow you to take our Tayar away from us,” Le’a bantered.

  He took one hand away from Tayar, to reach out for the older woman, too. “Then I suppose I should stay.”

  Before Le’a would take his hand, she asked, quite solemnly, “Is this a decision to stay or the relinquishing of a decision to leave?”

  “It’s my decision to stay.”

  “Are you sure? Do you really understand what you are facing, what will be expected of you, how everything could change for you, perhaps in ways you never imagined?”

  “It’s my decision to change my life, Le’a, isn’t it?”

  “It must be.”

  “Then why can’t you accept it? How many times must I repeat it until you believe it?”

  “It isn’t my beliefs that are in question,” Le’a started to respond.

  At the same time, Ta
yar said, “Every day.”

  “What?” he asked Tayar.

  “You asked how many times you must reaffirm your commitment. Every day. Not to us, but to yourself,” Tayar said. “Throughout your life, you will face choices. Some difficult, some painful. Each time you make the right choice, you’ll be affirming your vows as an Alleman. Whenever you go against the good and right choice, you’ll be returning to old destructive ways. Eventually, you will believe in yourself. Not because of who you once were, or even who you are, but who you want to be.”

  “You women won’t let anything be easy.”

  “We fight for what is worthwhile, even when it’s a hard-headed boy,” Le’a answered.

  Chapter 53

  The yound Allesha didn’t have a chance that afternoon to talk privately with Le’a/Dara about Dov’s violent twisting of the natural order of the stages, so she still had no gauge to help her understand the boy’s outburst. In fact, since last night, she hadn’t conferred with any Allesha other than Kiv, who’d sliced up her innermost beliefs even more than Dov’s hard hands on her.

  Somehow, she had to sort out the truth. Who is right? Kiv? Dara? No one?

  And what of Dov? Did being a Mwertik make him intrinsically evil? Am I a fool to believe the human spirit is greater than the cycles of hate — even when it’s my own hate — of the Mwertik?

  But she didn’t have the luxury to mull over the questions bombarding her. She was an Allesha in Season. To stop now would mean deserting her Winter Boy. Whatever he might be, he was still her charge and responsibility — more than ever, now that she knew the truth.

  But that didn’t make it any easier for her to go forward into the Exhilaration Stage. So she lingered longer than usual in meditation before joining Dov in the inner room. She was determined to use whatever discipline she possessed to bury the terrors that haunted her. She almost convinced herself that she had succeeded.

  Dov was sitting cross-legged on the floor, next to the small oyster pond. No longer uncomfortable with his own nakedness or hers, the boy seemed newly young and open, scorched clean by the previous night’s violence. His scabbed hand splashed in the frigid water, but he didn’t ask questions. He simply sat there, playing with water where only stone floor had been before, curious what it was and why it was there.

  Tayar sat beside him, took an oyster from the cold pond and held it out to him. Dov turned it over several times, feeling the deep, rough ridges and sharp edges.

  “It’s an oyster,” she said.

  He bounced it in his right hand, then looked closely at the edge. “Sort of looks like a mussel. Not the shape, color or feel, but the way the two sides fit each other.”

  She walked over to the nearest wall and picked up a short, wide knife from a ledge alcove. Light and well-balanced, it was meant for one purpose only. Why did the feel of it in her hand turn her mind even now to how Mwertik had used much more brutal knives?

  After sitting back down next to the boy, she took the oyster from him, held it in one hand, wedged the knife into the joint and flicked it open. It was done easily, belying the many hours and slip-knife cuts she’d endured learning this one skill. Another twist of the knife separated the meat from the opened shell.

  “Here.” She lifted the half shell to his lips and let the juicy morsel slide into his upturned mouth. “But don’t chew. There’s something hard in the middle that could chip a tooth. You’ll want to spit it out.”

  She watched him, remembering her first taste of an oyster. Salty sweet. Pungent and fresh. On a clear moonless night, alone with Jared on a sandy beach — he had fed her oysters, told her stories and showed her what she was preparing to teach Dov.

  Dov’s jaws worked as he rolled and pressed and sucked on the juicy flesh, until he isolated the small, elusive pit, forced it from its meaty prison, and spit it into his palm.

  She held up a candle. “It’s a pearl.”

  The flickering light reflected along the pearl’s opalescent surface, as he rolled it about on his hand. “Pretty thing.”

  “And considered a rare treasure.” Tayar place her hand under his, closing his fingers around the pearl. “It’s yours, as are all the pearls in these oysters.” She gestured toward the small pool.

  “Is this my reward for passing a test, for not leaving?”

  “Dov, you do ask some provocative questions.”

  “That’s no reason not to answer.”

  “Tests and rewards. I hadn’t thought of it that way. The pearls are yours because I have chosen to give them to you. Because I know you will want to have them in the years to come.”

  “Because they’re valuable?”

  “Because they will be precious beyond value.”

  He started to protest, hesitated, then smiled. “I suppose you’ll explain it to me when you’re ready.”

  “No.” She took the pearl from him and placed it in onw od the open half shells on the floor. Then, with her hand in his, she led him to their warm bathing pool, a few steps from the oyster pond. “Soon enough, the answers — and the mysteries — will be yours, just as the pearls are yours. Come.” She stepped into the warm swirling waters. “Bathe me.”

  Dov stopped to fill his hands with oil and soap from amber and blue bottles they kept on the side of the pool. Then, with gentle, insistent caresses, he massaged a warm, lemon-scented lather into her flesh.

  Tayar closed her eyes to ride the gentle tingling of her body wherever he touched. She nuzzled the curve of Dov’s neck, burrowing into his warm musk, feeling his quickening pulse against her cheek. Buoyed by the water and his hands cupping her buttocks, she wrapped her legs around his waist, and he entered her with only a slight resistance. It was a still, quiet moment. At first, the only movement was her inner muscles, which she squeezed, increasing in speed and momentum, until her body began responding to him with tightening waves of pleasure. He pressed deeper, moving with her, quicker with each thrust, breaking the silence with wordless rhythmic gasps, until all was still once more.

  In the dark warmth of the inner room, the only sounds were their breath and the soft lapping of the water against their bodies. Slowly, Tayar slipped off Dov and gently rinsed the soap, sweat and semen from their bodies. Then she led him back to the oyster pond.

  “These oysters are here to help me teach you a wonderful lesson. Do you know about a woman’s pearl, Dov?”

  He looked at her quizzically.

  Stretching her legs into a V in front of her, Tayar lifted a candle with one hand, while with the other, she spread her nether lips to expose her pearl. He watched in silence, then reached out to touch it gently with the tip of his forefinger, sending a shiver down her legs.

  “I never heard it called a pearl, but I’ve seen it.”

  The Allesha quickly crossed her legs and put the candle down beside her, disciplining herself to focus on the lesson and not on the sudden astringent chill heat of her nether lips. “I’ve heard Healer scholars say that a woman’s pearl has as many sensations packed into its tiny shape as a man’s whole organ. I don’t know if that’s true, but it is very sensitive to pleasure — and to pain.”

  “Yeah, well, I have seen it before.”

  “As with any other part of the body, there are many ways to touch a woman’s pearl.” She was pleased that she was able to keep her tone even, unperturbed, still in control. “The problem is it’s so very sensitive that I can’t show you by using my own body, as we have before. At least, not initially. That’s why we have these oysters.”

  Dov watched her in silence, absorbing her every word, gesture and move.

  Tayar removed an oyster from the tank, opened it with her knife and put aside the empty top shell. With two fingers of her right hand, she gently moved the meat of the oyster within the shell. “See how moving the flesh causes the pearl to move, too? Here, try it.”

  Dov took the oyster from her and imitated her action. But his eyes kept drifting from the shellfish to her pubis. “Show me again.”

 
She opened her legs and leaned back on her left elbow while, with her right hand, she parted her nether lips. Then, realizing what he wanted, she pulled her hand away and supported herself with both elbows.

  Using the same touch she had shown him on the oyster, he rubbed her nether lips with two fingers, watching closely at how the movement manipulated her pearl, unaware of the fiery sparks his tentative caress ignited. His concentration was so profound that her deep sigh and slight shudder made him jolt.

  Suddenly self-conscious, he sat more fully upright and stared at the oyster in his left hand. He massaged the oyster meat once more and mumbled, “It’s not the same at all.”

  Taking a deep breath to calm her body, she closed her legs, leaned forward and smiled. “No, it isn’t the same, but we can use it, to learn and experiment.” She brushed his shoulder with a gentle kiss and pressed her body closer, waiting until she felt his muscles relax before continuing. “A woman’s pearl is unpredictable.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s part of a woman,” he quipped.

  Tayar bit back a retort and instead, gave Dov a half-smile of acknowledgment. Then she took the opened oyster he had in his hand, and demonstrated different patterns of touch. “The number-one rule is that a direct touch is usually too painful to endure — except when a pearl demands to be touched.”

  “So, how am I supposed to know?” He shook his head in frustration.

  “By learning to read me. As you alter the rhythm, pressure and placement of your touch, my responses will vary; you can’t even depend on what you think you’ve already learned. One moment, a certain touch will send chills up my spine. The next, it may be uncomfortable or even painful. And yet another time, I won’t want to you stop doing that very same thing.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me when you want something or don’t want it? You’ve never been shy before.”

  “I’m not being shy now. I’m trying to teach you how to read me so you can understand what I want before I understand it myself.”

  “I’m not a mind reader.”