The Winter Boy

by Sally Wiener Grotta

  While his Season still had some weeks to go, after tonight, it would no longer be focused only on the two of them. He’d be spending his days with other boys who were about to become his fellow Allemen, under the guidance of other Alleshi and Allemen. And Tayar would be elsewhere, doing whatever Alleshi do when they aren’t with their boys —perhaps preparing for her next Season, interviewing boys to choose the one she would Bless.

  Dov didn’t savor the idea of someone else here in the kitchen cooking with her, in the greeting room reading and talking, or in the inner room touching her. But more disturbing was the idea that this time of wonder and discovery, this Season of love and friendship, would soon be ended. Tayar and Dov would be no more, only private names they’d remember as they moved away from each other, to different lives.

  But he liked being Tayar’s Dov, the man he had become with her. Seeing himself through her eyes, he was smart, caring, and so very alive. Who would he be without Tayar?

  And what of his Allesha? He wanted desperately to support her, care for her, protect her. What did it matter that she wouldn’t be Tayar after he left The Valley? She’d still be a woman he loved, who had helped him become the self he had always been, beneath his bluster and fear.

  Dov basted the fruited roast, put the potatoes into the oven, and sliced the bread to prepare garlic toast. If Tayar didn’t come home soon, he’d have to do something to keep the meal from being ruined. What was keeping her? Was there yet another crisis? So many things seemed to be happening all at once, but they knew little of how events were unfolding beyond The Valley. Could the Peace really collapse?

  How thrilling the tales of the Before Times had once seemed to him. But never in any of his childish musings did he really want their world to return to chaos and wars. Whatever came to pass, he was determined to do everything in his power to protect the Peace. Perhaps it was lucky, after all, that Pa had stolen a Mwertik boy. Dov knew he was only one man, but maybe, just maybe, he could do something to help, to save the Peace, to protect Tayar and Ma — and Lilla.

  Poor, sweet Lilla. While he still loved her, he had difficulty picturing her. He remembered pieces of the girl, flashes of moments shared. The gesture of her hand when she pushed her long black hair away from her face, the flicker of an eyelid, the shape of her lips. But he couldn’t seem to put them together into a solid, real woman. Often, he’d catch himself thinking of her as a child, one who needed guidance and protection. That was unfair of him. No doubt she had grown during their time apart. Even before, she’d had a mind of her own, a spirit not easily bridled. It was one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place. That, and the sound of her laughter.

  Lilla had every reason to believe he was coming back to marry her, to raise children and grow old together. What would she do when she discovered he’d be turning his back on the future they’d planned to share? If not for Lilla, he never would have willingly come to The Valley. Now, because of The Valley, he could never return to Lilla.

  Dov heard the outer door close, so he went into the greeting room to welcome Tayar home. As she entered, he wrapped his arms around her, picked her up and twirled her before she had time to put on her slippers. It was something he had planned as a way to start their evening with joy and fun, but the feel of it wasn’t what he had expected. Not that she didn’t giggle with surprise. Not that the heft and smell of her wasn’t a pleasure. But, still… He set his Allesha down onto her feet, smoothed her ruffled hair, and studied her face.

  “What’s wrong, Dov?”

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

  She didn’t respond immediately. Maybe she was deciding how to start, or how much she wanted to tell him. “I’ve had quite an afternoon, and I’m exhausted and feeling a little sorry for myself,” she said.

  “Me, too. I mean, the feeling sorry for myself. We’re so close to the end of this Season. I should be happy, but I’m sad. So I succumbed to self-pity, dressing it up in worry for the people I love.”

  “That doesn’t make the worry less valid.” She squeezed his hand. “Whatever you’re cooking smells wonderful. Let’s wash up for supper, and meet in the kitchen. I’m famished, for more than food.” She brushed her lips against his, then pulled away as though she thought better of it. “We’ve a lot to talk about.”

  Tayar came into the kitchen just as Dov was placing a basket of hot garlic toast on the table. Wearing the same dress as on their first night, with its cinched waist, multitude of buttons and wide playful skirt, she gave him one of her big, brightening smiles. Dov realized it wasn’t really a pose — just Tayar choosing to express that aspect of her feelings. He pulled out a chair. “Dinner’s almost ready. Please sit and talk to me.”

  With a nod, she sat, draping her skirt around her crossed legs. “What a nice surprise, having you take care of dinner.”

  Dov took the roasting pan out of the oven, then lifted the meat onto the cutting board. “Well, it’s our last night, sort of. Tomorrow will be different, and I wanted to give you — give us — something we’d remember.”

  “I’m glad you understand, Dov, that it is truly our last night.”

  “Oh?” He stopped carving, to give her his full attention. “I think you’re implying something else, aren’t you?”

  “The inner room has no more lessons for you that you couldn’t learn in other ways.”

  He hid his disappointment by concentrating on slicing the roast. “But it was more than lessons.”

  “Was it, Dov?”

  Dov paused in mid-cut, but only for a few moments. “No, I guess not. At least, it shouldn’t be. It would complicate things terribly if it were more, wouldn’t it?”

  “I knew you’d understand. You will be a fine Alleman.”

  He filled two plates with generous servings of food and brought them to the table.

  “Mmm. It looks as delicious as it smells. Thank you.”

  For a while, they ate in silence, sharing the sensual delight of each morsel. The crisp, cool salad. The resistance of the potato’s salty surface yielding to a steaming, soft core. The crunch and bite of the garlic toast. And the chewy, pungent meat. Only after she had tasted each item on her plate, giving herself fully to the individual textures and flavors, did Tayar break the silence.

  “Have you given any thought to the name you will take as an Alleman?”

  He nodded while swallowing a bite of toast. “I tried out a bunch of names, but in the end, I decided Ryl is best. It’s something of the Birani that I can take with me when I leave everything else behind. Someday, I may have to take a Mwertik name, but I don’t know any, and I don’t feel that one would fit me right now, even if I did know their language. So, for now, I will be Ryl.”

  “Would you be surprised to know that most Allemen choose to take the names they had before they came to our Valley? However, between us, I will call you Dov, for as long as we live.”

  As long as they lived. He considered the phrase, trying it on to see how it felt. It would be a long time, much longer than a single Season — if they were lucky. “It’s difficult, thinking about what it will be like after this Season. But what’s really hard to understand is how natural it is for me to contemplate life without you. My heart should be fighting it more.”

  “Your heart is being wise, helping both of us make the transition we must.”

  Yes, he realized, the transition has already begun.

  “Tell me about your day. What kept you so long?”

  Tayar fully chewed and swallowed the piece of meat in her mouth before replying. “I was with Le’a, Jared’s Allesha, and the Healer Allesha you met in the storehouse.”

  “The Alleshi of my pa’s Triad?” He nodded. “Yes, of course. What did you learn from them?”

  “We discussed your future and their plans for you. And we were correct; you will have your apprenticeship with Mistral, though Tedrac will be working with you, too. But it won’t be a traditional apprenticeship, because the crisis is her
e, and we don’t have two years.”

  “Will I have a Triad?”

  “Yes. The other boys haven’t yet been selected, but several candidates are being considered.”

  “May I know which ones?”

  “I think it would be better to let it unfold naturally during the Service Days. If you knew which boys were being considered, you might react differently to them, changing the value of the interaction and observations.”

  “How will they be chosen?”

  “Every Triad is different, but each Alleman must complement the other two in skills, expertise and personality. For instance, in your father’s Triad, Mistral is the lone adventurer who can survive by his wits in exotic, dangerous situations. Tedrac is a quiet man, a respected scholar who often gets lost in his books, but his analyses and strategies are brilliant, and his intuitive leaps sometimes groundbreaking. Jared was the diplomat who could get along with just about anyone. He was the anchor that kept his Triad on track.”

  “With him gone, how are the other two kept anchored?”

  “To a small extent, Jared’s son, Eli, has assumed that role.”

  “But your son has his own Triad.”

  “And that complicates matters, especially for Eli, because the two Triads’ loyalties have different priorities.”

  “So my Triad will be chosen to complement who I am.”

  “And what you must achieve. In some ways, your skills and personality are similar to Mistral’s, but your Triad will need to be structured differently, because the situation you face is unique.”

  Taking another forkful of salad, Dov pictured the other boys at the Battai’s. Who among them would be willing to be bonded to a Mwertik? “If it won’t be a traditional apprenticeship, and you say I won’t have the full two years, what about our training? I know enough to know how much I don’t yet know.”

  “Mistral and Tedrac will give you whatever you need. You’ll be going to a secret camp they’ve set up on the western border, where the Mwertik raids started. You need to learn the terrain, languages, cultures and environs. It’s the best way to give you the training you require within the little time we have.”

  “Will Tedrac be there, too?”

  “Periodically.” Tayar used her napkin to blot some gravy from her lips. “Dov, you have to understand about Tedrac. It’s true that he seldom leaves the comfort of his library. But don’t be misled by his soft voice and appearance. His mind is as sharp as the best knife you could ever wield. What he has to teach you could become your most valuable safeguards.”

  “So we’ll sit on the western border…” Bit by bit, Dov was piecing together what his future would hold, but there were still too many gaps.

  “Not quite. You and Mistral will venture often into Mwertik territory, more and more as your training progresses. But Tedrac and your Triats will not follow.”

  “Then what?”

  “Yes, that is the weak part of the plan. Or, maybe, you and I haven’t learned enough of the details.”

  “When you think about it, Tayar, a lot will depend on what Pa and I discover on our scouting forays.”

  “True, though I’ve a feeling Mistral knows more than we realize. We can ask him tomorrow.”

  “Pa? Here? I thought he wasn’t coming until after the season ended.”

  “Surely you knew that some Allemen are always involved in the Service Days.”

  Pa was here in The Valley, probably at the Battai’s inn, while they sat calmly eating, trying to figure out what he already knew. Dov looked inside himself, wondering what he felt about seeing Mistral, the man he’d always thought of as his father. For so many years, they’d been at odds, fighting over the smallest things, silent over the essentials. “I need to talk with him right away.”

  Dov started to get up, but Tayar reached across the table and put her hand over his, fastening him in place with one gentle touch. “Tonight is ours, Dov. Tomorrow will be soon enough.”

  Dov stared at Tayar, his beautiful Allesha, but all he could think of were the questions he had for Mistral. “When?”

  “Probably after the first assembly, before the work teams disperse.”

  “Will you be there?”

  She withdrew her hand. “For the first assembly, definitely. From time to time, I will attend your meetings or observe your work teams. We’ll still have our evening meals together.”

  “And when I meet with Pa?”

  “No. You won’t need me there.”

  Dov leaned forward, his forearms on the table, watching Tayar, trying to decipher what she was avoiding saying. “You’ll be meeting him on your own. Will you tell me what you learn from him?”

  “Probably, but until I know what it is, how can I say?”

  “It’s like what you were saying about Eli now being involved in two Triads, isn’t it? Conflicting loyalties. You’re more than Tayar. You’re an Allesha whose other names I may never know, whose loyalty to me I must trust, even when you hide behind your mask.”

  “I would never withhold information from you that you might need.”

  “Not intentionally. But I’ve also learned that the Alleshi make mistakes, as do Allemen.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, we’ll just have to trust that we’ll each do our best, and hopefully, when we work together, we’ll offset each other’s weaknesses, complement each other’s strengths.”

  “Yes.”

  “And that’s why I’ll have a Triad, even though I’ll be going off alone much of the time.”

  “Yes. A fine Alleman, indeed. Dov, I am quite proud of you.”

  Chapter 81

  Tayar’s meditations before entering the inner room normally involved opening her heart and mind. Tonight, she needed also to prepare herself for a closing, a walling away of any feelings that didn’t further her Winter Boy’s needs as an Alleman. And it mustn’t be merely a mask. After tonight, she could never again allow herself to ache for his touch, for the intimacy that had indelibly etched him into her thoughts and body.

  With Jared, it had been different; death was an undeniable barrier. Dov would continue to live, without her, but connected to her. And she was supposed to move on, to other boys who would burrow into her soul, Season after Season, then leave her.

  Caith had tried to caution her. Eli, too, though his warnings were different. Being an Allesha meant being fully a woman, responding with all that she was to everyone and everything she encountered, especially her boys. But being an Allesha also meant never allowing the woman in her to respond so completely that she would ever be less than an Allesha. In the end, she was truly only her title, moving through the lives of others whose naming of her would temporarily lift her out of the role, so she might become a flesh-and-blood woman once more.

  This was the life she had chosen. Eli was right. Even if she did decide to leave The Valley, she’d never leave this one truth behind. She was no longer Jinet. After tonight, she would no longer be Tayar. But neither was she only Rishana. She was an Every Woman. Not just the symbol of every woman within the world, but every woman within herself.

  For the first and last time this Season, when she entered the inner room, she would discard all those others and simply be herself — a woman with a man. Then she would lock Tayar away, burying her amongst other sweet memories.

  She sat in her armchair with her eyes closed, listening to her heartbeat until it became calm and slow once more. Then she removed her clothes, extinguished the lights and went into the inner room.

  Tayar stood in the doorway, at the threshold between her airy bedroom and the moist warmth of the inner room. At first, all was pitch dark. Then a spark flared, as Dov lit an oil lamp near his bedroom and carried it forward toward the pool. Patterns and shapes danced about the inner room, molded by the lamp’s flickering light and the shadows it cast, so that, with every step, he redefined the contours of the room. He bent to place the lamp on the carpet near the edge of the stone floor, then slipped into the pool, creating small lappi
ng shadows in the water.

  This room, the center and heart of her home, was as familiar to Tayar as her own hand. Yet Dov had transformed it simply by walking through it. Tonight, it felt deeper, quieter, a welcoming darkness filled with subtle colors, as Alleen’s desert might have been on a new-moon night. Tayar shifted her weight from one foot to the other, which must have changed the nature of reflected shadows, because Dov now looked directly at her.

  “Please join me.” His voice was a warm invitation, with no prodding or pleading.

  As Tayar stepped into the pool, he filled his hands with oil. She glided toward him, aware of the pressure of the water against her flesh as something that linked rather than separated them.

  Reaching out to touch her, he held her at arm’s length, with his oiled hands on her shoulders, so he could look at her, memorizing every small detail of her body and face. She, too, studied the man before her, knowing that this would be the last time they would see each other like this. Not just naked, but exposed, unguarded.

  Initially, she focused on every movement and sensation, using her training to heighten her perceptions and sensual response. His hands on her shoulders gradually began to move, gliding over the slick fragrant oils in small kneading circles, reaching upward along the sides of her neck, down the long muscles of her back to cup her buttocks, pulling her forward against the silky rough textures of his chest. As his palm and fingers alternately brushed and kneaded, she felt an awakening wherever he touched. His pulse in the hollow below his ear tapped against her lips, luring her tongue to taste, her nose to inhale. When his right hand traced the line of her hip forward to her groin, his fingers lightly parting her nether lips with assured but gentle strokes, she felt it as a shock that broke through her concentration, melting the minute details together into an undelineated sensuality.

  Only a small corner of her mind vaguely noted the change from monitoring and directing as an Allesha should, to simply giving and responding. It was a fleeting thought drowned out by the smell, taste, touch of him. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled him inside her, and suddenly all was still, as though time itself had focused so tightly onto the two of them that it had sealed itself shut. No doubt they moved, but Tayar experienced only fractional moments, each distinct from the next and the next. All that existed were the almost painfully intense waves of constriction. She heard her own cry, but it felt like laughter, a sacred vow sealing her to Dov for the rest of her life.