The Shore of Women

by Pamela Sargent

“Here is what my band will find,” he said. “A man will come for water, or they will search for us and follow our tracks to this place. They will see your coat, and believe that you have departed from them, and if they do not know it then, they will see it as the days pass and you do not return. Wanderer knows many stories, and he will see one in these signs. He’ll know that I am gone as well, although he will not know if I was blessed or punished. He will think you have ascended to the heavens at last.”

  “How do you know they won’t follow us, instead?”

  “We will leave them no tracks to find.” He took Flame’s reins and led her down toward the stream.

  We walked over the rocks at the edge of the stream, the sun at our backs. Finding our footing on the rocks while being certain we left no signs of our passing slowed us, yet by mid-afternoon, we had reached a place where the stream widened. My feet were sore by then, but I trudged on behind Arvil, unable to bring myself to mount the horse that carried Tal’s body.

  We pressed on until the stream was narrow enough for us to cross to the southern side. We were able to walk over a few half-submerged rocks while leading Flame through the water. We did not stop then but moved on along that bank. Arvil was silent throughout our journey, and I worried about what he might be thinking. Was he remembering Tal, was he regretting what he had done? He knew what I was, knew my weakness, knew I was powerless against him. I had much to fear from him still.

  When the sun was low in the sky, we stopped and Arvil began to dig at the ground with his stone knife. It was long, hard work; by the time he finished, the sun was setting, and he had hollowed out a shallow grave where Tal could lie. Remembering how he had buried my mother, I began to gather flat stones from along the bank and set them by the grave.

  He lifted Tal from the horse and laid him in the ground gently, then set his quiver and bow next to the body. “I shall keep his spear, for no enemy can threaten him now, but he must have his other weapons so that he can hunt in the next world.” He closed his eyes and I heard him moan softly. “What foolishness I speak. The Lady tells us of another world, and yet She has lied. What world can there be for him now? Where will his spirit find rest?”

  “There may be a Goddess,” I said without conviction. “Many of my kind believe there is. We may not be what you thought we were, but there can be a Goddess Who hears prayers and watches over us.”

  “She will not hear mine. Perhaps She hears no one’s if She allows those who wear Her form to deceive us. But Tal tried to do what he thought was Her will. He was hard and stubborn in his ways but tried to keep to what he thought was right. Perhaps he will find some peace.”

  He covered the grave with dirt and then set the stones on the mound. The evening light was fading quickly, but I could see the guilt and anger in his face as he stood. I wondered if he would strike out at me after all.

  “Arvil, I am sorry,” I said. “I’ve also lost one who was close to me. I didn’t want Tal to die.”

  “If I had done nothing, Tal would have taken your life and then mine. He told me that himself. He was willing to kill you and to strike at me. If the Lady cares more for those aspects in the enclave than She does for you, then She will bless Tal’s soul.”

  His words chilled me. I took a step back. He bent to pick up Tal’s spear, took a strap of leather from his shoulder, then tugged at me roughly as he tied the spear to my back.

  He mounted Flame and pulled me up behind him, refusing to look back at me as we rode away from the grave.

  ARVIL

  Birana had trapped me in her spell. My guardian was dead because of her, because of the spell she had cast over me. The world I had known was gone. The Lady Who watched over the world had been taken from me, and I had a vision of others like Birana whose spirits were housed in the Lady’s form, but who had none of the Lady’s strength. With their magic, they had hidden the truth from us, and the Lady had not punished them for their deed. I had refused to do Her bidding and still lived.

  All that I had thought of as good had become something else, and the Lady Herself seemed part of the evil. My spirit, with its questions and doubts, was a curse. It had set me against the world, and I wondered where it would lead me.

  Birana’s arms were around my waist. Again the longing I could not name rose up inside me. Her soul had called to me, and whatever misery she brought, I still ached to learn from her what I could. More pain lay ahead of us, I was sure. Alone, I had little chance of surviving. With Birana to protect, my chances were even less. Silently, I cursed the spell she had cast on me, while resolving to learn from her what I could before death claimed me. Turning back now would not bring back what I had lost.

  I had chosen my path; yet, as I rode, I hoped a vision would come to me, that the Lady would appear and with Her words restore my world to me, even if that meant that She would condemn me for my deeds.

  The night was growing cold, and we had to find shelter. As we rode south, I thought of Mary’s shrine, but knew we could not go there. I wanted to be away from the lands near my camp.

  I thought of my band, of the friends I would see no more. They might already be searching for us. One might have found Birana’s coat. The men would wonder at that, and their fears would give rise to many imaginings. I was certain that their bewilderment would lead them to Mary’s shrine to pray. It came to me that the Lady could not hear their prayers unless they wore Her circlets, for I was learning Her limits. When the men understood that Birana would not return, they would have no reason not to don the Lady’s crowns.

  “Arvil,” Birana whispered behind me, “I fear what I’ve brought you to. You’ve lost Tal and now your band. It might have been better for you to have taken my life.”

  “It is useless to speak of that now.” Her words made me burn with rage at her for entrancing me. “You will have to repay me for your life by telling me tales of what you call the truth. If I don’t like what I hear, perhaps I will find that I am able to carry out the order the Lady gave to me.” Her arms tensed around me as I spoke, and I was sorry for what I had said. It was part of her spell—that she could transform my anger into longing for her.

  We soon came to a small hill. The few trees at the top would hide us, and we could see any movement below. I heard no sound and saw no sign of men. We rode up the hill and dismounted, then sat down after tying Flame’s reins to a limb.

  “I have questions for you,” I said. “Answer them well, for our lives will depend on those answers. My band will see soon that you are gone, and I believe that they will go to Mary’s shrine to seek counsel from the Lady. You are no longer with them, and at least one will find courage to don a circlet. The Lady will then learn that you are no longer with them. Will that keep Her from searching for you?”

  She was silent for a moment. “The city would learn that I’m not with them. They might believe you killed me, and were afraid to return to those men, but they wouldn’t be sure.”

  “Will the enclave search for you? Will the Lady believe you are dead?”

  “I don’t know. Your band would be safe from the city if they reveal I’m not with them, but how can you be sure they’ll go to that shrine?”

  “They will go,” I said. “When they find your coat and see that you have vanished from the earth, their terror will take them to the shrine.”

  “They may not go right away. Until they do, they’re not safe, either.”

  I pondered her words and felt concern for my band. I had not thought of the danger to them while we fled; I had not thought of protecting them against the consequences of my deed. They had befriended me when I had no one, and I felt shame at having abandoned them to their fate.

  “If the city sends a ship against them,” Birana continued, “then the city may believe that I died with them, but perhaps not. The ship might take images of the bodies back for study, to be…”

  “Do you care so little for those who cared for you?” I burst out. “Are we only creatures to be cast aside?”

 
She shrank back in the darkness. “I did not mean that I wish them dead.” She paused. “I don’t know how much I can tell you. As far as I know, the cities have never had this problem before. A woman is sent out, and nothing more is heard of her. Many things can kill one out here, and we don’t know how to live outside the wall. We cannot take another’s life ourselves—it is our greatest crime to do so. That’s why women are sent out instead.”

  “The Lady takes the lives of men.”

  “Yes, but not the lives of our own kind. That must be why you were sent, you see—even though I was condemned, they would rather send a man against me, so that they wouldn’t have to act themselves. But they will act if there’s no alternative.”

  I sighed. “I was told that, when you were dead, I must go to a shrine and speak to the Lady once more.”

  “I know. The city will begin to wonder why you haven’t done so.”

  “Tell me this, Birana. If I go to a shrine and do as I was asked to do, will we be safe from the Lady’s wrath then?”

  She caught her breath. “If they believe you, yes—but they have ways of getting the truth from you. You’ll find it hard to hide the facts from them.”

  “You put a spell on me before, at the shrine by the lake.”

  “And you see how easily it was broken. It wasn’t strong enough to keep you from betraying me.”

  “The Lady put a spell on me,” I said. “It was a powerful spell, enough to make me feel some joy when I thought of striking at you. Yet, when I saw what you are, that spell was broken, for your spell on me is stronger. I know a little more about the Lady’s true nature now. She no longer has as much power over me. You must teach me what to do to hide my thoughts, and then I shall go to a shrine.”

  She jumped to her feet. “You might as well take my life now! They would send a ship with weapons to that shrine—they’d destroy everything around it to be sure…”

  “Sit down,” I muttered, “and keep still, or you may call death here.” She settled herself on the ground. “We have little chance at life by ourselves, even with Flame to carry us. We’ll have none at all if I must fear the Lady’s magic, for I’ll be watching the sky and fearing Her weapons instead of seeing what dangers lie around us. I must go to a shrine. If the Lady breaks your spell and learns the truth, we’ll only meet our death sooner. If She does not, and believes me, we have a small chance at life.”

  “You cannot do this, Arvil.”

  “I must. There is my band to protect as well. They will not be safe until the Lady knows you are not with them. I won’t have them suffer because of me.”

  “You cannot…”

  “You treated little Hasin with kindness. Would you see him struck down by the Lady’s rays?”

  “No!” My talk of Hasin had moved her. “I suppose I must do what you ask.”

  I let her sleep for a time, then roused her when the Hunter’s Belt was higher in the sky. I pointed out the stars to her and told her to wake me when they were lower in the west. “Most men will sleep at night,” I said, “but you must wake me if you see anything move.”

  She nodded as I stretched out on the ground. I supposed that she was hungry, but we had no food. I closed my eyes. No dreams came to me as I slept. When I awoke, I imagined that I was back at my camp and then remembered.

  It was still night. The dark shape of Birana was black against the starry sky. She stood a few paces from my feet, keeping watch.

  She was the danger closest to me, more threatening than anything below. I could take her life quickly and see that she did not suffer. I could go to a shrine then without fear of her enclave. I could bury her and return to my old band, or find another band I might join.

  I had worshipped the Lady and those aspects who wore Her form. Although I knew that Birana was not what I had believed her to be, awe of her was still inside me, mingled with that longing that burned in my soul. I wanted to know the truths she could tell me but wanted something more as well. I thought of what Shadow had said about the blessings Birana might grant us in her body. There was no one to stop me from receiving them—from taking them.

  She had kept apart from my band. She had granted a smile, or a kind word, but had not called any of us to her side. I remembered how frightened she had looked when I told her of the men’s wishes.

  I forced myself to ignore my longings as I sat up. “The sky will grow lighter soon,” I said as I rose. “We must go. We can travel far by dawn.” I helped her mount Flame, then got on the horse behind her.

  I had decided to ride south, along the route I had traveled with Bint. If we kept in the open, we could flee from any men on foot, and I would watch for signs of horsemen while avoiding regions where men lived.

  “There is a shrine to Hecate in the south,” I said. “It isn’t likely that other men will travel to it now, for any near to it will have seen the Lady’s ships strike at the plateau. They will fear the Lady’s wrath and believe that land is cursed.”

  “Is that where you saw men die?”

  I told her then of how my band had joined Truthspeaker’s men and how we had traveled to that plateau only to meet death at the Lady’s hands. As I spoke, I thought of everything I had lost—my old band, the friendship of Wanderer and Shadow, my new band, my guardian Tal. I wondered if Birana, and what she might reveal to me, could ever replace what I had lost.

  “I am sorry,” she said when I had finished my tale. “You have suffered much.” I wanted to learn more from her, but we needed food, and there was little time for questions.

  Throughout this journey, we stopped when I could see a place of safety for Birana, a grove or a hollow in a hillside where she could hide herself while I hunted. I dared not go far from her or leave her alone for too long, but at one small stream, I caught fish, and another day, I brought down a duck with an arrow. Plants were beginning to sprout, and I was able to gather green onions, mushrooms, and spears of young asparagus. Birana, I saw, would be useless in helping me find food. She did not know what plants to gather, and it was easier for me to hunt alone.

  Whenever I returned to her side, she would wipe tears from her face before greeting me. Often, she would smile a little, and warmth would fill me at the sight. I felt joy when I could bring her food, shame when I found little. She did not weep in my presence. She did not complain, although I saw the weariness and despair in her blue eyes. I learned not to relieve myself in front of her and to turn away while she tended to herself.

  In the evening, and in the morning before we rode, she dangled her golden chain before me and spoke to me of the spell I would need in the shrine. With her soft words, she would entrance me and then call me back from her spell. I had no memory of what happened under her trance, but my longing for her seemed greatest when my soul returned to me and I saw her once more.

  “You are doing well,” she told me on the fourth day of our travels as we rode. “You fall into the trance more easily. You’re more suggestible than I thought.”

  “I must not let your spell be broken.”

  “I’ll do my best to see that it isn’t. You will not know that I live when you speak to the Lady, you won’t be aware of me. You won’t even know me until I speak the words that will call you back. Then you’ll remember everything that happened, and I’ll know from what you tell me whether we’re safe. You must trust me, Arvil.”

  “I want to ask you another question now,” I said. “Once, men dwelled in the Lady’s realm—so we have always believed, and yet I wonder at the truth of it now. Then we committed a great evil and were cast out. Is this so?”

  “It’s true. It happened long ago, long before anyone now alive lived. Men nearly destroyed our world. You need not doubt that.”

  “How could men do such a thing?”

  “They knew much of what you call magic. They used it to fight among themselves, and millions died—many, in numbers you cannot count. Those who lived saw that it couldn’t be allowed to happen again, so women, the aspects of the Lady, sent men from
their midst and kept the magic for themselves. This brought peace to the world, for women swore that there would be no more battles.”

  “There is little peace in my world,” I said.

  “At least you have a world.”

  I struggled with my thoughts. “You say that those who committed this sin are no longer alive, and yet we are punished for what they did.”

  “Your natures are violent ones. You must be kept from bringing destruction to the world again.”

  This was in keeping with what I had believed, that our souls were stained with the evil of the past. Yet questions still came to me. “Boys are given to us. I was given to Tal in an enclave, although I have no memory of it. We found Hasin inside the wall. Do you allow men to live so that they will be forgiven someday?”

  “I do not know,” she said, “if you can ever be forgiven.”

  “But can a boy be so evil that the enclave must send him away? If we are truly so evil, why do you allow us to live at all?”

  “You are needed,” she said but did not explain what she meant. “Some of us believe that the Goddess appeared to us long ago and directed us to live apart from men. Others say that this is only a story, that the Goddess does not work in such ways, or that there may be no Goddess at all, but that our way is right nonetheless because it has preserved Earth.”

  If there were no Goddess, then Who watched over us? What was there to hold back evil? The thought that She had turned away from the world was not as fearful as the notion that She might not exist at all. “What do you believe?” I asked.

  She kept her face turned away from me. My hands tightened on her waist. She said, “I think we’ve lived as we have for so long that we can’t change, regardless of what may be right, or what the truth might be.”

  My head throbbed. I slid from Flame’s back and landed on my feet.

  “Arvil…”

  “I must walk,” I said. I had wanted to know what Birana called the truth. I was hearing it, and my soul recoiled.