She arranged her face in an expression of sadness, then of happiness. These Tron could see, but when she put longing in her face, Tron only said "sad" again. Zena kept trying, but after a while, she turned to the children, to let them guess.
"Longing," they called out without hesitation, and did their best to imitate the expression.
Zena tried another, then another, turning first to Tron and then to the children. Each time, the children answered.
Mortification spread across Tron's face, that the children could answer when he could not. He shouted angrily and bounded to his feet. Zena closed her eyes for a long moment, trying to control her own mortification that she had not realized, that she had embarrassed Tron even as she tried to help.
The children looked startled at his outburst and shuffled uneasily. Then one little girl imitated his angry face, pulling her eyelids and lips with her fingers until her small face was a mask of sneering rage. The others copied her, howling with laughter. Tron stalked away.
Zena glared at the children and ran after him. It was not going to be easy now to induce him to continue the lessons! She caught up to him and placed a hand on his arm.
"I am sorry for the children, Tron. I should not have called them. Truly, I am sorry. That was not a good idea."
He shook off her hand and kept on walking. "Stupid children!" she heard him mutter.
Zena ran to stand in front of him. "No, Tron," she told him, holding on to his arm to try to impress him with her sincerity. "The children are not stupid. You are not stupid either. The children do not know how to hunt as you do. You do not know faces as well as some. They will learn one day to follow the animals as you do. And you will learn too."
He only grunted, but he stopped walking so fast, and Zena knew she had caught his attention. She pressed her advantage. "We will do this next time where the others are not watching," she promised him. "That will be easier for you."
Tron grunted again, and Zena assumed it was a grunt of assent. "We will start tomorrow," she called after him, and let him go. They would accomplish no more today. Tomorrow, she would take him to a place she knew of in the woods, where they could work alone. Menta had told her that someone would always be watching, but surely that was not necessary. She would speak to Menta, assure her there was no need. Tron would not harm her, and he would learn better if he knew no one was listening.
Nevilar had lingered near the lesson, hoping to speak to Tron again. Now she knew he was too angry. She did not blame him. It was horrible to be humiliated like that! Zena should not treat him like a child.
A rush of sympathy flooded her. With it came determination. She must meet Tron tonight. He would need her to comfort him.
Just before the sun went down, she sneaked away from the clearing. Tron was waiting when she arrived at the place she used for mating. She had discovered the tiny enclosure years ago, when she had wanted a special place to go where no one could find her. Hidden within thick clumps of bushes, her retreat was barely large enough for two people to lie down in. But it was totally private. Here, she did not fear prying eyes.
Without speaking, Tron pulled her to the ground. "Wait!" she cried out. "We must talk."
He paid no attention. He lowered himself over her, and she felt his organ hard against her stomach.
"Wait," she cried again, resisting the surge of desire building inside her. She pummeled at his back with her fists, to make him listen to her.
Tron answered with a quick look of scorn. Grabbing her wrists, he forced them backward as he tried to enter her.
Nevilar groaned. She did not want to do this. The Mother had forbidden Akat, but never had she felt such an agony of desire. It tore through her, painful in its intensity. It was fierce, uncontrollable, as Tron was fierce and uncontrollable.
She felt him struggling to open her legs wider. She gasped with the effort to restrain him, then suddenly she gave up, unable to resist any longer. She spread her legs for him, as wide as they would go. With a gasp of triumph, he plunged into her. Back and forth he went, harder and harder, and Nevilar rocked with him. Almost at once, the ecstasy came for both of them. They shuddered violently and lay still.
One moment passed, then another, before Tron raised his head. Then, in one quick movement, he was on his feet. Nevilar stared in astonishment; already, he was leaving. How could he leave so quickly?
Before she could collect herself to speak, he was gone. Nevilar lay still, biting her lips hard so she would not cry. Tron's passion had brought ecstasy, but his fierce thrusting had brought pain as well. She felt bruised, inside herself and everywhere else - but even worse was the hurt to her feelings. He had not even bothered to speak with her, had hardly noticed she was there, except for her body. He still did not know of her caring, had not realized she had come to comfort him.
Perhaps, though, he had been afraid to talk to her, lest someone hear them. Nevilar considered these thoughts, trying to believe them. After all, Menta had said someone would always be watching. Tron was acting wisely, perhaps, to leave so quickly.
Had someone been watching? Nevilar rose, all her senses suddenly alert. She scoured the bushes fearfully, listening intently for any betraying rustle. Horror at what she had done slowly encompassed her. She had disobeyed Menta, let Tron do what the Mother Herself had forbidden. To violate the Mother's command was terrible, horrible. Why had she done this thing? Why, why had she behaved like that?
Darkness had come. They would be wondering where she was. Her mother would be looking for her, fearing for her, alone in the woods at night. Nevilar rose and hurriedly cleaned herself with damp leaves. They must not know, must not smell Akat on her. And she must hurry, before they came looking.
She ran back to the clearing, still shaking with horror at her actions, with fear that someone had seen. If they looked at her accusingly, what would she say?
But when she slipped into her place by the fire, the others barely looked up. Her mother frowned and told her irritably that she should take more care, come back earlier. Bakan had seen the prints of tigers nearby. Did she want to be eaten by a tiger?
Relief flooded Nevilar. After all, no one had noticed. No one knew, and she would never, never do such a thing again. The Mother had been kind, to give her this chance.
Trying to sound as natural as she could, she assured her mother that she did not wish to be eaten by a tiger, though she did not believe a tiger was really in the area. Her mother was just saying that to make certain Nevilar knew she had displeased her again. Sometimes it seemed her mother never spoke at all except to criticize.
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 wait
ing 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 ha
d 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.
CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) Page 35