I had seen a Headman become an Elder once before, two winters after Tal had become my guardian. The Wolf had led us then. He had broken his leg badly in a fall and knew that it would not heal. He had declared himself an Elder, knowing it was for the good of the band; caring for an old and crippled man would have made life harder for all of us.
The Wolf had gone on his last hunt, although others had to help him take his last hide. He had sewn his cloak and eaten his final meal, then given away his things. Geab, the new leader, had been given the Wolf’s precious knife, made with a sharp metal blade taken from a scavenger.
Geab struck the first blow with that knife, cutting the Wolf’s throat. By the time the rest of us pricked the Wolf with our spears, he was already dead.
The Wolf had met death willingly. Geab would not.
I had dreamed of the white room during our night in the shrine, but the Lady did not speak to me. Tal, however, had communicated with Her again, mumbling as he slept. Like all men, I had a stain on my soul, yet prayed for purification and the Lady’s blessing. Tal was a good man and had been called, but it was the fate of all men forever to fall away from grace and be forced from the enclaves. Again, I wondered: Could a man become so holy that he could dwell within an enclave’s wall and never come out?
As we came toward the hill leading to our camp, Tal suddenly grabbed me, startling me out of my daydreaming, and pointed at the ground. He had already loosed his spear from his back. The tracks of horses marked the snow and led up the hill toward our camp. I pulled at Tal’s arm, wanting to flee.
At that moment, a horse carrying two riders came around the hill and trotted toward us. Tal lifted his spear.
“Hold!” a familiar voice shouted. I recognized Cor’s furs and hides. He was sitting behind a stranger on the horse’s back; his legs dangled, and his arms were tight around the other man’s waist. I was too startled by the sight of Cor on a horse to be afraid then.
Cor released the other rider, slid awkwardly off the horse, sprawled in the snow, then stumbled to his feet. Tal saluted him with his spear. “Who is this man?” he asked as he waved his weapon at the stranger.
The horse whinnied, but the stranger was silent. Cor smiled, showing white teeth under his thin red mustache. “Another band is in our camp. We’re having a parley.”
Tal frowned as he glanced at me.
“You should have been back last night,” Cor went on. “This stranger here is helping me guard the hill. The rest are above.”
Tal adjusted his hood. “I shall go up.”
“Geab is busy with the parley.”
“So you told me.” Tal’s voice was angry.
We climbed the hill. Our winter camp was near the top, so that we could watch the land around it; but when the winds blew strong, we often had to take shelter in the hollow space we had dug below ground, where we stored the dried meat and plant food we had gathered for the cold season. In winter, we did not wander far from the land we knew. We knew about winter, and what we had to do to live through it. We did not know what dangers we might face if we left for lands where strange bands roamed.
Outside one lean-to, Geab sat in the cleared space around our fire. The stranger nearest to him was a large man in a bearskin. He looked well fed, as had the man with Cor. Ten other men were with him, all large, some dressed as he was. They did not sit but stood stiffly, their spears at their feet. Each held the reins of a horse, while one man held two horses.
I had seen such men only once before, at a distance, and they and their tamed horses had struck fear into me. Seeing such men in our camp frightened me even more.
Our band had always been small. There were Geab, Tal and me, Cor and the Stalker, Eagle Eyes and the boy Hawk, and Arrow. Arrow had brought our newest member, Stel, out of the enclave to the north the winter before. Hasin was dead, struck down in a battle with another band. We could not have fought these strangers and their horses, so I well understood why Geab had agreed to talk instead. But what could such men want with us? Why hadn’t they attacked us, when they could have so easily?
Tal squatted near a small snowbank as he watched the parley. I turned and went to a lean-to under the trees, a shelter I had built myself of wood and branches covered with hides. Hawk was sitting under it with Stel.
“Who are they?” I asked Hawk as I sat down.
“A band from the south.”
“And they came north in winter? What are they doing here?”
Stel giggled. His chubby, dark brown face reminded me of his guardian’s; Arrow was the only dark man I had ever seen. I poked Stel with my elbow and told him not to giggle. He rolled his dark eyes. I poked him again, and he blinked back tears. He was small and afraid to hit back.
Hawk rubbed his pointed chin. “They are treating with Geab. They came here at dawn when I was on watch, put down their spears, and asked for truce. It was hard for me to understand them at first, for they use strange words, but their leader and another man know our speech, and we all know holy words, so we were able to talk. Did Tal bring us some fresh meat?”
“We found nothing except two rabbits, and we ate those.” I took off my empty pack.
Hawk pouted. “Those horses would make good meat. The dried meat is…”
“What about the strangers?” I said.
“They want us to join them.”
“Join them!”
“That’s what their leader said. They have a large band, Arvil. That is only part of it there. The leader held up ten fingers, and then ten more, until he had held out his fingers nine times. They number ninety, and they have built a wall, and have huts, and plenty of food, too—that is why they’re so fat. The leader told us that their men have been called to two different enclaves and that they control the paths to four shrines.”
“I don’t believe it.”
Hawk drew up his hood, hiding his brown braids. “He says they do. They fed us dried meat of their own before, and leaves with grain. He says they grow some of their own grain and don’t often have to forage for it. He says they keep herds of animals with them and have fresh food in the winter without having to hunt for it.”
“If he has such a large band, then what does he want with ours?”
Hawk leaned forward. “Unity. He spoke of unity—strength in numbers, he called it. He says bands do not have to fight other bands or avoid them. He says that one day, they will be so strong that they’ll destroy any band that isn’t part of theirs, and that all the weaker bands will die out, and that some day, they will be as strong as an enclave. And then…”
Stel’s eyes were wide as he listened. Hawk shoved the boy. “Go away, Stel.”
“Why?”
“Just go. Practice with your spear or gather wood.”
Stel wandered away from the lean-to as Hawk drew closer to me. “And then,” he whispered, “they will go to an enclave when they want to, and not just when they’re called.”
I hid my face with my hand for a moment. “Do not say it. The Lady will hear.”
“Their leader says he serves the Lady. He says he can hear Her even when he is not in a shrine wearing the Lady’s crown. He’s touched with holiness, and, when he is entranced, the Lady speaks through him. He says that She has told him that a new day is dawning for all men.”
It sounded unholy to me. I sent up a silent prayer to ward off the Lady’s anger. “What happens if we don’t join them?”
“We shall have a truce for now, but in the spring they will declare us their enemies and be free to hunt us down. They can do it, too. We cannot fight men on horseback.”
“We can run from them.”
“We would have to run far.”
“Tal will never agree,” I said.
“He’ll have to go along with what the others decide.”
I wrapped my arms around my legs. Tal was watching the strangers, but I could not read his face.
When the parley was over, the strangers rode down the hillside to make camp below and sent Cor up t
o us. They moved in a line, one horse following another, each man holding his reins in the same fashion, as if the thoughts of one ruled all.
We gathered around the fire while Geab talked of what the strangers had said.
“What do you think, Headman?” the Stalker asked.
“I say we join,” Geab answered. “We need no new enemies, and their band has been blessed. We must join them.”
“I agree,” the Stalker said.
Arrow was nodding, and so was Eagle Eyes. Hawk, Cor, and I had no right to vote since we had not yet been called, and Stel was only a child.
Tal shook his head. “We cannot do this. We live well enough.”
Geab said, “We can live better.”
“We’ll have to do what they tell us and live among strangers. We don’t know their speech. We may not have our own Headman.”
“We all know holy speech, and I’ll still be our Headman,” Geab replied. “They have something they call a council, and I will speak for our band there, but we must obey their Headman.”
“You will speak for us?” Tal scowled. “Do we not speak for ourselves?”
“You will speak to me, and then I’ll speak to them.”
“But you will not be our Headman then, Geab.” Tal showed his teeth. “I spent the night in Mary’s shrine. I’ve been called again. When I return, I shall be the Headman, and you will be an Elder.” Tal had saved that news.
Geab narrowed his brown eyes and grinned; he did not seem disturbed. “There are no Elders in their camp. Their leader told me that. He says that they keep their old men and listen to their tales and make use of their wisdom. I’ll still be our Headman until I die—and, in a place like that, I may grow very old.”
“We haven’t joined them yet.”
“But we will.”
“You must wait until I return from the enclave.”
“We cannot. They leave tomorrow and have asked us to ride with them. They can tell you how to follow us to their home ground. We will join them, Tal.”
Geab was right. I could see it in the eyes of the others as they dreamed of food and huts. Geab was afraid of death; he would give up being a true Headman in order to live. And if Tal never reached the land of the strangers, that too would serve Geab’s aims, for he would then have no rival.
“It is unholy,” I cried out.
“Silence!” Geab shouted at me. “Your body may be much like a man’s, Arvil, but you’re a boy until you are called.”
“It’s unholy. Hawk told me that they dream of becoming as strong as an enclave and of going to enclaves without being called.”
“Is that true?” Tal asked.
Geab nodded.
“Then it is unholy. I serve the Lady, and She has favored me again. I won’t join them.”
Arrow pulled at his kinky black beard; Eagle Eyes was frowning. The Stalker waved an arm. “I’m with Geab,” the Stalker said. “The Lady has favored the strangers, has She not? They say they have brought many young ones out of the enclaves. They shared food with us willingly, for they have much more. I say we go.” I knew then that Eagle Eyes and Arrow would follow Geab as well.
Tal rose. “I must go to the enclave. I must pray, and purify myself in a shrine, and travel to the Lady. But I won’t return to you if you go with them.”
Geab laughed. “Then you will die. You’ll be alone, with no band.”
“I am at the mercy of the Lady. We shall see what She wills for me. I may find a new band. The Lady will know I wasn’t tempted by evil.” Then Tal spoke these words, chilling me. “I withdraw my allegiance from you, Geab. You are no longer my Headman, and I am no longer of this band.”
“And I expel you,” Geab answered as he jumped up. “If the Lady hadn’t called you, you would die now. But I believe death will come for you soon enough.”
Tal gazed down at me. The other men were watching him. I was frightened; I was still Tal’s charge, and what became of me now was in his hands. I could not go with him to the enclave and wondered if he would leave me here alone to survive however I could while I waited.
Tal pulled me to my feet and led me to the Stalker. “Will you be Arvil’s guardian?” he asked. The Stalker nodded. “Very well, then—it is done. Farewell, Arvil.”
I wanted to cry out, but that would have been unseemly. Tal stood near me while I struggled with myself, wanting to cling to him. “You were not called,” he said, “and I cannot take you along.” He drew me to one side, away from the men and the warmth of the fire. “You must go with them to that unholy place, for you would die here alone, but the Lady will guide you. Pray often, and follow Her way—reject unholiness. We may meet again when I can take you from that place.”
“Do not lie to me, Tal. We’ll never be together.”
His fingers dug into my arm. “Resist evil. Whatever they tell you, don’t fall into evil ways.”
I said, “I must live as they do while I am among them.”
“Think of the Lady. Your only chance at life is to go with them now, and that is why you must, but if they punish you for keeping to holiness, then you will have to bear that punishment.” He released me. “Farewell, Arvil.”
Tal picked up his spear and bow, shouldered his quiver, and walked down the hill alone.
LAISSA
My friends began to arrive for my party. I greeted them while trying to forget my worries. After they had sung the traditional song of approaching womanhood, and I had accepted their gifts, we sat down on the carpet and began to nibble at candies and fruit.
All of my friends had already passed menarche, and they had advice to offer. “Find a room in the north quadrant, Laissa, but not in one of the outside towers.”
“If you decide to follow your mother and study medicine, stick to research. Doctors and nurses have to go to the wall sometimes and deal with men.”
“I’m thinking of joining the patrol for a while when I’m through with my studies. The work isn’t much, but it’s a chance to meet a lot of women and help them.”
“I’m concentrating on astronomy and astrophysics. It’s exciting to look at all those plates and records, to understand what was discovered in the past.”
“Get some pilot training if you’re suited for it. The cyberpilot does most of the piloting anyway, and you’ll get to see other cities. We went as far as the Ridge on a training flight once.”
“Cybernetics is interesting, and it’s a good way to win a place on the Council someday.”
“Cybernetics.” Zoreen, in her low voice, almost spat out the word. “Isn’t everything cybernetics, in a way? How much real work do we have? The doctors stare at a lot of screens and scanners, the pilot stares at a screen, and the cybernetic intelligences tell us what to do. The cyberminds do most of the work, and we don’t do anything new. We don’t know anything that wasn’t known two centuries or more ago. We probably know less. We hold ourselves back.”
The other young women looked away from Zoreen; a few made faces, while others pretended they hadn’t heard. I hadn’t wanted to invite Zoreen, but we had been close once, and she had invited me to her celebration.
“We have to understand what the cyberminds do,” Shayl responded. “They just save us the trouble of doing a lot of tedious tasks they can manage more quickly.”
Zoreen’s mouth curved into a half smile. “And it makes things easier for us, too. Do what was done, follow past procedures. Once there were satellites scanning the heavens, and now we’re content to stare at astronomical plates made centuries ago. Once our ships flew over the oceans, and now we’re content if they fly as far as the Ridge. We build no new cities. Even on our own continent, there are lands almost unknown to us now.”
Shayl sat up straight and pointed her chin at Zoreen. “Would you want us to be like the ancients?” she asked. “They nearly destroyed the world with their overreaching. You, of all people, ought to know that.”
“We might do more,” Zoreen said.
“We have obligations,” Shayl re
plied. “We’ll be the Mothers of the City. We have to serve all those women here who depend on us, we have a duty to them to keep their lives as peaceful and untroubled as they are. I wouldn’t wish to change that.”
Shayl, my best friend, had been studying physics. Her life was already planned; she would master her work, perhaps elaborate a little on what was already known, have her children, and then divide her time between her work and tutoring in a girls’ dormitory. Thinking of the dormitories, I became solemn; my life there, and in Mother’s rooms, was over. Soon, I would move to my own rooms. Shayl and I had already planned to live together until it was time to have children and perhaps even after that; but I hadn’t seen much of her since her party and wondered if she had changed her mind. Jenna and Carlea, still inseparable, sat together holding hands, and I felt a pang.
“What are you going to do, Laissa?” Carlea asked.
I said, “I don’t really know.”
“An adviser’ll talk to you after the tests,” Jenna said in her lilting voice. “You should follow her suggestions.”
“Do the general science course,” Carlea said as she shook back her dark curls. “It’s a good choice for anyone who’s uncertain. You really can’t go wrong, and it’s useful as a base.”
“There’s always history and human culture,” Zoreen offered. Another girl giggled; I felt myself blushing. “It would certainly enliven your days of study.” She leaned forward; her green eyes glittered. “Men and wars. Boys and girls together, without any protection. No insemination—they actually had to touch the men.” Zoreen, it appeared, was deliberately being offensive; she must have known that the others hadn’t wanted her there.
“It sounds disgusting,” Shayl said loftily. With her large brown eyes and dark brown skin, she had always been the most beautiful girl I had known. “I think a lot of perverts and disturbed women do history.”
The Shore of Women Page 3