Текст книги "A Woman of the Iron People"

Автор книги: Eleanor Arnason

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“No. And the name does not have an ending I recognize.”

“I have gotten used to you,” he said. “I keep forgetting that you are entirely out of the ordinary. It takes other people to remind me of that.”

She came back out, carrying something that she put on the cooking stone.

I leaned forward.

“It’s bread.” She lifted the top piece off the stack. It was flat and round like a pancake or a tortilla.

“Not a kind I know,” said the oracle.

“I make it from the roots of the talinaplant. It grows in marshes. The people in the south use it. And I add flour which travelers give me when I take them across the river.”

“You have a boat?” I asked.

“A raft. These people of the plain insist on taking their animals everywhere. I cannot carry a bowhorn in a canoe—even a big one, like the ones the men use in the marshes. They have no other home—no tents like the men carry here on the plain and pitch when they make camp. When it rains the men in the marshes prop up a pair of spears. They stretch a cloak of umaziskin over the spears, and that is their shelter.”

“It sounds uncomfortable,” the oracle said.

“It isn’t bad. I lived that way when I came up the river. But when I decided to settle here, I got a tent. A woman likes a home that does not rock.”

She got up and went back in the tent. This time she brought out a bowl and a pan. The pan was shallow with a long handle. It looked to be made out of iron. She put it on the stone next to the stack of bread. The bowl went on the ground. It was full of a whitish liquid.

“I found eggs by the river this morning. Some fool of a lizard made her nest at the wrong time of year. If the young had hatched, they would have died.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Look at the leaves! They are changing color.” She tapped the side of the bowl. “By the time these little ones were ready to hatch, their mother would have been gone. There would have been no one to guard them. No one to care for them.”

The lizards were maternal. Funny, they didn’t look maternal.

“Where does the mother go?”

“South along the river. All the big ones do. They keep going till they reach a place where the water does not freeze. A lot of them end up in the marshes. The umazieat them and get fat and slow, and then it is possible to hunt the umazi.”

“Aiya!” said the oracle.

“What about the little ones? Do they go south?”

Tanajin made the gesture that meant “no.” “They dig holes in the mud at the edge of the river. They curl up and go to sleep and wake in the spring. You ask a lot of questions.”

I made the gesture of agreement. “Do you mind?”

“If I don’t want to answer you, I won’t.” She emptied the bowl into the pan. The liquid began to sizzle.

Derek and Nia came out of the darkness, our bags over their shoulders. Derek dropped the ones he carried. “I think I’ll take another look at your arm.”

“Good,” said the oracle. “It hurts, and I am not entirely sure that your magic will work here by the river. The spirits here cannot be the same ones as in your country or my country. Tanajin does not know about the holy children.”

“Neither do I,” I said.

“Later,” said Derek. He got out the medical kit.

The liquid in the pan was bubbling. Tanajin pulled a spoon out of her belt. She lifted the edges of whatever it was. Scrambled eggs? An omelette? The liquid on top flowed underneath. Using her free hand, she made the gesture of satisfaction.

“How did you get here?” I asked. “Why did you leave your home?”

“That is a long story. I don’t like to tell it.” She glanced at Nia. “Do you like to explain how you got so far from the village of your people?”

“No,” said Nia.

Tanajin stood. “I need to get one other thing. Keep an eye on the eggs.”

After she was gone Nia said, “I don’t know what I am supposed to be looking for. What are the eggs supposed to be doing?”

I moved closer to the fire. Now I could see the pan clearly. The handle was inlaid with a gray metal: an animal pattern, two creatures with long bodies that wound around each other like ribbons in a braid. They grasped each other with clawed feet. Their heads confronted next to the pan, mouths open and almost touching, tongues curling out between rows of sharp teeth. What were they? The umazi?Tanajin had left the spoon. I used it to lift the edges of the omelette. Almost done.

“It looks as if the wound has been bleeding a little,” said Derek. “But it isn’t anything serious. There is no sign of any kind of rot.”

“Good,” said the oracle. “I do not want to die.”

“Not many do,” said Nia.

The oracle flexed his arm. Derek had put a new bandage on. “It still hurts. I hope I do not meet any more spirits like those in the cave. I don’t like to give blood.”

The eggs looked done. I lifted the pan from the fire, then put it down and waved my hand in the air. “Ouch!”

“I should have told you,” Tanajin said. “The handle gets hot. Give me the spoon.”

She knelt and divided the omelette in four, then took a piece of bread and laid a quarter of the omelette on it, folding the bread over. An egg sandwich. She handed it to me. “The jug on the ground is full of beer. I made it. It isn’t as good as the beer the travelers bring. There are disadvantages to living alone.”

I took the jug and moved away from the fire. The bread I held was warm and soft. It felt greasy. I took a bite. It was greasy—and tasty. The eggs had a strong flavor. Like what? Fish maybe. The beer was sour. I liked it.

My comrades got their sandwiches. We ate and drank. Tanajin watched us.

When we were done, Nia said, “There is a lake to the south of here.”

Tanajin made the gesture of agreement.

“We need to get there.”

Tanajin frowned. “There is no easy way. The trail goes across the river. It leads from the country of the Amber People to the country of your people, Nia. Before I came, travelers had to camp at the edge of the river and cut down trees. They made rafts to carry them across the river and then had to leave the rafts behind them to rot. A waste of good timber!

“And they did not know what to do, once they were on the water. They drifted downriver. They got caught on snags. Lizards came after them. I heard about this.

“I thought—here is something I can do which is useful. Here is a gift that people will appreciate.

“There is no trail that goes along the river. The way is hard. There are marshes and bogs. It will take you many days.”

Derek said, “We have to get there soon.”

“It cannot be done.”

Derek leaned forward. “This is important. We are meeting with people. We have promised to be there.”

Tanajin drank beer. She handed the jug to me, then wrapped her arms around her knees and stared at the fire. “I could take you downriver on my raft. But I’d lose it. The current is too strong. I could not get the raft back upriver. And there is a place where the water goes down rapidly. You could get through in a boat. But I am not certain that a raft could make it.” She paused. “Let me think. Maybe in the morning I will know what to do.” She stood up. “I told you I had blankets. They are piled outside my door. Rest well.”

Tanajin went in the tent. I took a blanket, too exhausted to examine it, though I noticed—lying underneath—that it was heavy and warm.

“Lixia?” It was Derek.

“Uh?”

“I called the ship.”

I lifted my head. He was sitting by the fire. The ruddy light outlined a cheekbone and made an eye gleam.

“Yes?” I said.

“We aren’t going to get our conversation with a doctor.”

“What? You had it figured out. You were certain.”

“Uh-huh.” He smiled. I saw the corner of his mouth curl up. “Ivanova decided it would hurt their position if they voted for any kind of intervention before the big meeting. And the Chinese abstained. Every one.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask me. I haven’t the first idea.”

“Do you really care so much?”

“Lixia, you will never get anywhere until you understand the importance of politics.”

“Huh,” I said and lay back down.

“One other thing,” he said.

“Yes?”

“Gregory has been pulled out. He wasn’t learning enough, sitting alone in his cabin, and the cabin stank, and the food was boring. We are the only people left on this continent.”

“Eddie still wants us to leave?”

“He wants the option. If his side wins, he intends to quarantine the planet.”

“Shit.”

Derek smiled. “Yvonne is going up to join his faction in the big fight. Santha and Meiling are staying where they are, for the time being.”

“Huh,” I said again.

I woke at sunrise, stood and stretched, then walked down the bank till I found a cluster of bushes, peed, and washed my hands in the river. There was a flock of birds on the nearest island, roosting in the trees. They were large and white. They kept moving, flapping from one tree to another or leaving the island entirely, flying out over the river. One went over me. It was high enough up to be in sunlight. How splendid it was! How brilliantly white!

I went back to camp. Derek was gone—off to check the animals, most likely. The oracle lay wrapped in his blanket. Nia was going through one of the saddlebags, and Tanajin sat by the fire. A metal tripod stood over it. A pot hung suspended, flames licking around it. I looked in. Gray mush.

Tanajin said, “I have thought some more about your need.”

I made the gesture that meant “go on.”

“There is no quick way through the marshes. I told you that before. There is no safe way, either. The big lizards like to sun themselves on the banks of the river, and they hunt in the shallows. They are hungry this time of year. They know they must eat well, before they start the trip south.

“There are other animals that are dangerous. The killers of the forest. The little mathadi.They are no bigger than my hand. But their bite is poisonous. You must go on the river.”

“How?” I asked.

“There is a man who lives near here. Like me, he comes from the south. He used to be a great hunter of the umazi.He knows the river—all of it. After we eat, I will build up the fire and signal him. If he is in the area, he will come. Maybe he will take you to the lake.”

I made the gesture of gratitude. She gave the mush another stir. “You will have to leave the animals here. They will not fit in the boat.”

I made the gesture that meant “no matter.” “Would you like them? We owe you a gift in return for your help.”

Tanajin frowned. “I do not travel on land. Not any long distance. I can walk to anyplace I want to visit.”

Nia came over. She looked angry. “What are you saying, Li-sa? How can you offer the animals to this woman?”

I looked up, surprised. “She has found a way to get us to the lake.”

“You will meet your friends and go off with them. That is your plan, isn’t it?”

“I’m not certain. Maybe.”

“If you do, what about me? What about the oracle? What will happen to us? We will be left alone in the middle of the plain.” She squatted down and stared at me. “I do not want to go to the Amber People. I do not think the Iron People will make me welcome. We need those animals! We are going to have to travel a long distance before we find anyone who will give us through-the-winter hospitality.”

“What have you done?” asked Tanajin.

“We’ve had bad luck,” said Nia. She sounded curt.

“Worse than most, from the sound of it,” said Tanajin. She took a bowl and filled it with mush. “I have heard of people who make one village mad at them. But two! That is something!”

“I wasn’t thinking,” I said to Nia. “You’re right. You’ll need the bowhorns. We’ll have to find another gift for Tanajin.” I paused. “You don’t have to come with us the rest of the way to the lake. You could stay here.”

“Is that what you want?” asked Nia.

“No. I want you to come. It won’t be easy to leave you or the oracle. I don’t want to do it now.”

Nia made the gesture of assent. “I will go with you the rest of the way. Until you meet your friends.”

I looked at Tanajin. “Will you take care of the animals till Nia and the oracle return?”

She handed me the bowl of mush, then made the gesture of assent.

I made the gesture of gratitude and tried the mush. It had a gritty texture. The flavor was nutty and sweet. Not bad.

“There is beer to drink,” said Tanajin. “We’ll eat, and then I’ll build up the fire.”

Nia woke the oracle. Derek returned. I explained our plan between mouthfuls of mush.

He made the gesture of agreement, then looked at Tanajin. “How safe is the river? I need to take a bath.”

“The current is strong here. The lizards do not really like fast water. They are not likely to hunt in this area. You can go into the river, but stay close to shore and keep your eyes open. Those animals do not always do what is expected.”

“Okay,” said Derek.

Tanajin frowned.

“All right,” said Derek in the language of gifts.

“I’ll go with you,” I said and stood.

“You need a something,” said Tanajin.

“What?” asked Derek.

“Let me show you.” Tanajin rose and went in the tent. She came out with an object about the size of a baseball. “This.”

I took the object. It was yellow and felt oily. “We have nothing like this,” I said.

“No wonder you look dirty and stink.”

Derek said, “We have nothing like this with us. We have it at home. And we use it.”

“Well, use it now,” said Tanajin.

We went upriver till we were out of sight of the tent, stripped, and waded in. The water was lukewarm, about the same temperature as Tanajin’s native beer. Even close to shore I could feel the current. I dunked down till the water covered me, then stood and rubbed myself with the yellow ball. It foamed. Wonderful!

Derek held out his hand. “Me, too.”

“Just a minute.” I covered myself with lather and rubbed lather in my hair. He stood watching, waist-deep in water, his hands on his hips. “Impatience on a monument,” I said.

“What?”

“It’s a quote, but I don’t have it right.”

“Shakespeare. Twelfth Night.‘She sat like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief.’ I don’t remember the act or scene, but it’s Viola speaking to the duke. About herself, of course, though the duke does not know it. Give me the soap.”

I handed it over. He lathered. I rinsed. Was there anything equal to getting clean? Especially after traveling so long. I got the soap back and covered myself with lather again.

Derek said, “I think we could use this stuff to wash our clothes. I have reached the point where I don’t want to stand upwind of myself.”

A log floated by. There was a lizard on it. A little one, no more than a meter long. It turned its head and looked at us, then inflated the sack in its throat. Ca-roak!

“The same to you,” I said.

We waded back to shore, washed our clothes, and spread them on the sand to dry. The air was almost motionless. The day was getting hot. We sat down side by side. I glanced at Derek. His hair was blond again. His skin had returned to its usual color: brown and reddish brown. He looked attractive.

“The old saints were right,” he said. “The ones who didn’t take baths. Being dirty does interfere with sex. I’m not sure what the exact connection is, and it doesn’t work for everyone, of course. But it certainly works for me.” He made the gesture of inquiry.

I replied with the gesture of agreement and the gesture of assent.

We made love on the sand, then waded back into the river and washed ourselves off. We sat down again. He leaned over and kissed my ear. “Aristotle was not right. ‘All animals are sad after sex.’ I tend to feel mellow and sentimental after getting laid.” He grinned. “And complacent, as if I’ve pulled off something out of the ordinary. A better-than-average card trick or a really clever essay.”

“I didn’t know you did card tricks.”

“Not at the moment. I left my cards upstairs.”

I looked downriver. A thick column of smoke rose into the sky. The signal fire.

“But I can prove that I’m clever,” Derek said.

“Oh, yeah?”

“There was someone in the tent when we arrived last night. Hiding. I think it was a man.”

“How do you know?”

“Footprints. Big ones. Entering and leaving. The ones close to the tent were scuffed. But I found others farther away. Good clear ones. One set was fresh. The ones leaving. My bet is he left after we went to sleep.” Derek paused. “Not by the front. That would have wakened me. He cut apart two skins in the back.”

I thought for a moment. “Do you think it’s the man she’s signaling?”

“Most likely. She didn’t want us to know she was friendly with a man. Even though I am a man and so is the oracle. These people are careful.”

I checked the clothes. They were still damp. “I just realized this morning—there’s a chance our journey is almost over. We won’t see Nia or the oracle after another day or two.”

He made the gesture of agreement.

“I didn’t mind leaving that village in New Jersey. Those people were loathsome. I barely got out alive. But every other time I’ve finished a study, it’s been painful. At least a little. To go in and out of the lives of other people.”

“I’m usually ready to go,” said Derek. “I start thinking of my house in Berkeley. My books. The indoor plumbing. The kitchen with everything I need for cooking. And all the lovely women that are to be found around a university.” He paused. “Later, when I’m back, I miss the people I was studying.” He grinned. “In the comfort of my house.”

I checked the clothes again. We talked about the people we had studied and the people we had known as friends and colleagues on Earth. A wandering conversation, full of pauses. We made love a second time and washed again in the lukewarm river. The day kept getting hotter. Clouds appeared in the west.

Around noon Nia came looking for us. “The man has arrived. He must live close to here. He’s willing to take us to the lake. But he wants to go now. He says there will be a storm in the afternoon. He wants to be a good distance down the river by then.”

We put on our underwear and shook the sand off the rest of our clothes, rolled them and carried them to camp.

There was a canoe drawn up on the shore. A dugout. Good-sized. Surprising that a single man would need a boat that big. The prow was high. The top was an animal head, elaborately carved. The eyes were inlaid with shell. The mouth was open and had real teeth: triangular and white. They were all the same size. Unspecialized. Most likely the teeth of a fish or reptile or a very large bird. The owner of the canoe was nowhere in sight.

“He’s in the tent,” said the oracle. “Talking to Tanajin. They are a strange pair.”

“We’d better put on shirts,” said Derek. “The day is bright. We’ll get burned out on the water.”

“Okay.”

We packed the jeans and the rest of our belongings.

Nia said, “I talked with Tanajin this morning and told her I am a smith. She has tools here, left by a traveler. She says there is a hole in the bottom of her best cooking pot, and Ulzai—the man—has a knife that no longer holds an edge. And there is other work to be done.”

“I am not much use at a forge,” said the oracle. “But I know stories, and my dreams are useful.”

Reciprocity. A gift must always be returned. What could we possibly give to Nia and the oracle in return for their help?

Tanajin came out, carrying a sack made of leather and a large metal jug. “Food,” she said.

The man came after her. He wasn’t tall, but he was broad and heavy. His fur was shaggy. It made him look even bigger than he was. He limped heavily. There was a patch of white fur on his leg. Was that evidence of scar tissue? He turned his head, looking us over. Two lines of white fur went down the side of his face. The inner line touched the corner of his mouth and the lip was twisted out. I could see the red mucous membrane.

His eyes were red. His pupils were contracted and so narrow I could not see them. The eyes were blank. Eerie!

“You are certainly different,” he said. His voice was deep and harsh. “Tanajin says you have not been sick.”

Derek made the gesture of affirmation.

“I am Ulzai.”

He wore a kilt made of brown cloth. His belt was leather with a buckle of yellow metal. Brass, most likely. A long knife hung at his side. The sheath was leather and brass or bronze. The hilt was tarnished silver. His feet were bare. He wore no jewelry at all. He was the plainest-looking man I had seen on the planet. Plain in both senses. Unadorned and ugly.

“Get everything you own in the canoe. Does any one of you know how to paddle?”

“I do,” I said.

“I will be in the stern. You sit in the prow. These others will go in between.” He stared at Derek and Nia and the oracle. “The boat is going to be heavily laden. It may be that I am a fool to carry so many people. But I know what I am doing out on the water, and I have always been lucky there. Listen to me! Stay quiet! If you move around, the boat may turn over.”

“Okay,” said Derek.

“What?” asked Ulzai.

“That word means ‘yes,’ ” said the oracle.

We loaded the canoe and pushed it into the water. Nia and the oracle got in clumsily.

“Be careful!” said Ulzai.

Derek did a little better.

Ulzai and I turned the boat, then climbed in. “You—at least—can get in a canoe,” the furry man said. “Tell me your name.”

“Lixia.”

“Li-zha,” he repeated.

Tanajin said, “Farewell.”

I found my paddle. It was almost the same as the paddles I had used in northern Minnesota.

“Get to work,” said Ulzai.

I dipped the paddle in the water. My first stroke was shallow.

“Is that the best you can do?”

“Give me time,” I said. “I have not done this for many years, and I will not remember how to do it if you make me uneasy.”

He made a barking noise. “All right.”

The canoe moved out into the river. I glanced back once and saw Tanajin standing on the shore: a dark figure, motionless. Her tent was behind her. Smoke rose from her fire. It was still thick and dark.

“Don’t look back,” said Ulzai.

I turned my head and concentrated on paddling.