by Michael Kingswood
Two days later, the God-woman awoke.
The elders were not sure how long it would be, or whether she would ever awaken again. But Yili knew she would come around. It was a certainty, as far as he was concerned. The likes of her do not just roll over and die so easily.
He stayed as close to her hut as he could, for as long as he could, each day. He almost let his work for the village slip. He would have, had Caeli not been on hand to direct him back onto the right road. And so he did his job, and did it well, collecting fruits as well as a couple trapped rodents each day for the evening meal.
But when he was not off doing that, or assisting Caeli with the young ones, he was near the hut. Sometime during the first night, the elders selected guards for the hut and ordered them to be…severe…with anyone who strayed too close to the God-woman. But they recognized Yili as the one who had brought her in from the wild, so they did not question the fact that he remained so close. And so he was close at hand when she awoke.
The first sign was the shrill shriek that emanated from the hut as she came to in unfamiliar environs. After that came the words of the woman appointed to watch over and care for her. They were carefully chosen words, meant to be comforting. But her shrieks only became louder.
Yili did not wait to be asked. He darted forward toward the tent, cursing the women, and the elders, Gods help him, for idiots. He had told them she would not be able to understand them, but had they listened?
The guards did not stop him. They were too absorbed by the small drama going on within the hut, and anyway it was not like he intended harm to the God-woman or any of the normal women who cared for her. He arrived just in time to see the God-woman, sitting on the ground, shove Guona away with so much force that she stumbled backwards and bounced off the side of the hut.
Guona was more tough than her slender build let on. She shrugged off the pain of her impact and drew herself upright, ready, no doubt, to give the God-woman a piece of her mind.
Yili would have loved to watch, or rather listen, to such a discussion if he were not so wearied by the concept of waiting. And so cynical – he chose the word himself – about how such arguments would never amount to anything. So instead he raised his voice to get Guona’s attention, then directed her to exit the hut.
She glared at him as she left, and Yili knew he was going to be in trouble, incredible trouble, with the elders as soon as she gathered her wits and complained to them about what had happened. But he knew he was right. He was there on the beach when she arrived. He had seen her companion – her husband? – die. It must be he who explained matters to her.
As Guona left Yili and the God-woman alone together, Yili was again struck by her physical presence, her appeal. He had never seen a woman to equal her before. Ever.
He shook himself slightly to recover his wits; he must have said that same thing to himself any number of times over the last couple days. It was silly, and besides, a God would have no use for a mere human such as he. And…. And, he was married. Yili gave an inward start of surprise when he discovered he had to remind himself of that fact.
Before he could chastise himself properly, the woman spoke, less shrilly than before, with less obvious panic. She was someplace good and helpful. Why else would they have taken the time to fish her out of the sea? Or at least, Yili presumed that was what she thought. It was obvious they were just trying to help her, after all.
Yili squatted down next to her and smiled. Pressing his hand to his chest, he said his name slowly, as he had with the man.
The God-woman just looked at him for a long moment, then nodded slowly and pointed at herself. “Care-ul,” she said. She paused, looking down at the dirt floor of the hut. When she spoke again, it was in a near whisper. “Air-ick?”
Yili had no idea what she was trying to say, so he simply shook his head.
The God-woman – Care-ul – spoke again, more forcefully. Demanding. “Air-ick!”
Yili retreated a half-step, remaining in a crouch. Something about her tone was disquieting. Again he shook his head, adding a gesture of confusion in the hopes she would understand better.
She was growing frustrated, he could see it on her face. She rolled her eyes and forced herself to her feet, nearly falling back to the ground in the process as her knees wobbled. As she caught herself, her hand landed on her hip, and her eyes widened. Yili had not noticed before that the strange loincloth – it was larger and at the same time more tight than a loincloth, going down to mid-thigh on her legs – had pouches built into its sides. She fished her hand into one of the pouches and, with a small grin of triumph pulled a strange object out. It almost looked like it was leather, but it flipped open easily. She worked around in the thing for a short time, then pulled out a small, thin object and held it out to him.
Gods above! Her companion, the God-man, was there, trapped within the thing she held!
Yili jumped backwards, landing on his feet as a sudden fright sped through him. What strange magic was this?
Care-ul flinched at his sudden movement, but did not put the thing away. Instead, she stepped forward toward him. With her free hand, she pointed at the trapped man and said again, “Air-ick?”
Suddenly it became clear. Air-ick was the God-man’s name. Yili sighed and dropped his eyes. He shook his head and made a cutting gesture across his throat.
Care-ul’s breath caught and her eyes went wide. Her lips began to tremble; Yili saw tears beginning to well up. Then she dropped down onto the ground and began to sob, in loss. In despair.
#
#
Three weeks passed.
For most of the first, the elders limited the people’s contact with Care-ul for fear of frightening them – or her – more than necessary. And because they did not know how she would react to so many new faces at once, especially being unable to communicate with them. Only a select few women, the elders themselves, and Yili were allowed to see her. Yili suspected had he not been the first one to get her to open up at all, he would have been excluded as well. That notion caused him far more consternation than he would have thought.
By the end of the first week, though, Care-ul seemed to accept that they were not going to hurt her, and that they had not killed Air-ick. Or at least, she stopped looking at them with tearful, half-frightened eyes. And so the elders allowed her the run of the village. She began walking amongst the people, in company with one of the more familiar women or Yili.
By the middle of the second week, she began helping with some common chores around the village and trying to learn the language. The men were all amazed at her skill with knots; she could take a vine and bind branches together in ways that no one in the village had ever considered before. Before long, using the new knotting techniques she taught, the people began making some much-needed improvements.
Because of her contribution, and the fact that she was quickly picking up at least a smattering of the language, the people lost their initial unease around Care-ul. By the end of the third week, she was like a familiar friend. Not family, obviously; she would never be truly one of them, as different as she was. But she was no longer the other, to be feared and watched. And for her part, she seemed more comfortable with them as well.
All the same, Yili noticed she would often stare off into nothing with a haunted look on her face. And in the evenings she would cry herself to sleep.
Then, some of the hunters found Air-ick’s body.
Three men brought him into the village at noon. His body was decaying, rank. Putrid even. But the elders had decreed that he be found, if possible, and returned for a proper burial. After Yili described where on the beach the event had occurred, some men were sent each day to search. Yili had gone himself the first several days, even though he knew there was no hope of finding anything; the Beast had taken him away to the netherworld, and mere men could not travel there.
But in the end, the elders were right. They always were right.
The hunters related that they had found a mound of sand not far from the tree line about a hundred fifty paces from the place Yili specified, and that crabs were swarming over it. It was in that mound they found him.
He was almost un-recognizable, except from his golden hair and large size. But Care-ul knew him at once, and rushed to his side before the hunters had lowered him to the ground. There she wept for what seemed an hour, the pain and loss that Yili had thought dampened by the passage of days apparently still sharp.
He stood there, watching her in her grief, for a long time before he realized Caeli had come to stand next to him. She watched Care-ul with eyes that reflected the God-woman’s grief, and Yili recalled how long it had taken her to move past Jola’s death. It had been months before she was able to give herself to him fully, even though they had been married only a few days after the cremation.
Yili put his arm around Caeli’s shoulder and drew her close. She snuggled close, rubbing against him in that comfortable way that was her want, and he thought she sobbed a little.
“You should become friends with her,” he said softly, and she stiffened. She shook her head quickly, and he continued. “It might help her to be with a woman who has also known loss.” Caeli looked up at him for a long moment, then nodded. She looked almost nervous, but when she left his grasp and turned toward Care-ul, her back was straight.
She walked over to the weeping woman and sank down next to her. Slowly, as though wary to touch her, Caeli reached out and placed her hand on Care-ul’s shoulder, then gave it a gentle squeeze. Care-ul looked up at her in surprise – she and Caeli had hardly interacted at all during her sojourn in the village. Then, seeing something in Caeli’s eyes, perhaps a reflection of her own pain, and understanding, she grabbed Yili’s wife in a fierce embrace.
Soon they were both crying together.
#
#
They did not delay, but held the ceremony and cremated Air-ick at sunset. Normally there would be a day devoted to remembrances of the deceased, words said in his honor, and a grand feast. But no one knew Air-ick except for Care-ul, and he was so far decayed that to delay would have been to risk scavengers and sickness.
And so there was just a simple ceremony, the elders taking a short while to intone the blessings of the Gods on their returning brother, and then the funeral pyre was lit. Most of the people filtered away quickly after the body was fully ablaze. After all, the trail from the promontory overlooking the northern beach, where they held final ceremonies for the dead, while not particular steep, was narrow. And it would be better to not navigate it after dark.
After a few minutes, only Shumay, the wisest of the elders, Yili, and Caeli remained with Care-ul beside the fire. Caeli stood at Care-ul’s side; it looked as though she was whispering to the God-woman. As adept as Care-ul had proven at learning the language, Yili would not have been surprised if she understood a fair amount of what Caeli was saying. Yili and Shumay stood apart, giving them space.
Shumay stared at the fire, a deep frown on her lips, and was silent for a long time. When finally she spoke, it was in a low tone that would not carry to the two women.
“I am troubled, Yili.”
He nodded. “We all noticed.”
Shumay sniffed. “First Jola and now this. The Beast had not attacked anyone in my lifetime until your brother. And now another victim, so soon afterwords…”
Yili frowned. Two years was hardly soon. But then, when one is looking back from the span of fifty years, as Shumay did, two years must seem just a blink. “What are you saying?”
“This woman and her man were sent by the Gods. That is obvious. But for what purpose?” She drew her shawl, made from the hides of two boars, tight around herself as though to ward off a chill, even though the evening was far from cold even without the bonfire.
“You think the Beast means to thwart their mission.”
“Is it not obvious?” Shumay shook her head. “I worry that, with that woman here among us, the Beast may not keep to the beach any longer.”
Yili recoiled as though smacked. “What?” The import of her words struck him, and he shook his head. “No, that is impossible. The Beast walks the sand to thwart man’s rebellion against the Gods. To keep us from the sea.” So it had always been said. The Beast was the Gods’, and particularly the Sun God’s, opposite and thus always worked against them. But its nature was such that it also did the Gods’ will without realizing it, by hunting men who would stray to places they were not meant to go.
“I wonder…” Shumay’s words trailed off and she was silent again for a long time, just staring at the blaze. Finally, she rolled her shoulders and stepped away from the pyre, toward the path back to the village. But before she left, she placed a slender, bony hand on Yili’s shoulder. “Watch her closely, Yili,” she said. “If she becomes a danger to us…”
Shumay left the rest unsaid, but Yili understood. Sent by the Gods or no, if Care-ul brought the Beast down on the people, they would have to move against her, to stave off their own destruction.
It was like a dagger through his heart.
#
#
The next morning, Caeli and Care-ul spoke for a long time near the outskirts of the village. Yili noticed them together as he was preparing a snare that he intended to set later that day. He was struck, again, by how different they were. How radiant Care-ul was, even with her eyes sunken and dark from a night spent weeping. And how plain Caeli was by comparison, like a wilting flower. He hated himself for thinking of her that way, but he could not shake the comparison from his mind.
He needed to focus. He turned away from them, putting all his attention on the snare he was constructing.
A few moments later, Caeli’s voice, from behind his back, intruded. “She wishes to go to the beach. To where Air-ick died.”
Yili felt a chill. Dread seeped into his bones as he turned to look at his wife. “Are you sure?”
Caeli nodded. “Her speech is still difficult, but,” she swallowed and managed a half-smile, “she was very clear about that.”
A number of curses that were so foul no one every gave them voice, at least not in public, sprang to mind. Taking her to the Beach… That would potentially be bad. Very bad. What if the Beast came for her? But even as he thought that, he knew he could not refuse her this thing.
He nodded. “When?”
Caeli looked at him askance, and he sighed. “Alright. Let me finish this last lashing. I was going to set the snare down near the base of the mountain anyway.”
He stood, hefting the snare; it was not very heavy, but it was bulky, and took some adjusting to carry comfortably. Then he followed Caeli through the foliage at the edge of the village until they met Care-ul, not far from the path down the mountain. As always, she was enchanting to behold. His eyes were drawn down to the scraps that covered her breasts before he could control them. As quickly as he could, he forced them to her face, lest she sense his vulnerability. His shame, feeling something like that for a woman besides his wife.
For a heartbeat, he thought she smiled slightly, a knowing smile that said his ruse was easily detected. Surely not; she was still in mourning.
And yet Caeli went to him after mourning for much less time than Care-ul had spent. A woman wants to feel desired, does she not?
Yili shook off that thought – it was not appropriate – and led the women on the path down the mountain, and from there to the beach. He only paused to set his snare near a small game path that had yielded good takings in the past.
It took a long time to reach the beach where he had observed Care-ul and Air-ick’s arrival. The whole way, he remembered the fear that drove him upwards with Care-ul over his shoulder, the weight of her pressing him down and making every footstep an effort, the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that by saving her from the Beast he was interfering in a divine play that man was not meant to take part in.
Unbidden, and despite his efforts not to look back at her, the image Care-ul as he had first seen her, unconscious and unashamed on the beach, the Sun God beating down on her toned arms and legs, the chill of the sea making her nipples rise against the strange fabric that covered them…
Yili stopped, forcing himself to think of something else as he realized he was reacting with desire for her. For someone other than his wife. It was not right, all the more since she was from the Gods herself.
From then on, he increased his pace to the beach, almost leaving the women behind completely until finally he reached the pair of trees he remembered from that day. He stood there panting for a long time, or at least it felt long, before Caeli and Care-ul caught up. Plenty of time to get himself under control again.
He turned to look at them – at Care-ul – and pointed out past the line of palm trees, past the burning white sand, toward the lagoon and, beyond, the breakers where, even now, the top of the tree that had grown out of the thing she and Air-ick had arrived on still protruded from the water.
Care-ul turned her head to follow his extended finger. When she saw the tree, she gasped and hurried out onto the sand, heedless of the way the Sun God turned the sand to fire in the early afternoon hours. It sometimes even made Yili’s feet hurt, calloused as they were.
And yet Care-ul seemed not to notice. She ran down the beach at full speed, plunging into the lapping surf of the lagoon and wading ever deeper until the water was up to her hips. Then she lunged forward, her body lying atop the water somehow, and pulled herself forward toward the breakers and the strange tree with rhythmic pulls from her arms that were similar, but not exactly the same, as those Air-ick had used to get himself and her to the beach in the first place.
Yili stood there, stunned, and could only watch as she did it. His rational mind could not keep up with what she was doing. He had witnessed Air-ick moving through the water naturally, as though he had been born to it, but Yili had presumed that was because of the life or death nature of what was happening. Several times in his memory men had found themselves able to do amazing things when their lives depended on it, after all.
And yet, apparently, Air-icks ability to move through the water was not specific to him, or only driven by severe danger. It could not be, since Care-ul had the ability as well and she was certainly not threatened before she reached the water.
Was she?
Yili felt a sudden surge of fear and cast about quickly, searching for any sign of the enemy. The Beast. There was no sign, not even a hint of a shadow at the edge of his vision.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Beside him, Caeli looked more curious than frightened as she followed Care-ul with her eyes. But then, she had not seen what happened before. What Yili would not give to be to pure of sight again. He found himself taking her hand as he stepped out onto the beach, following Care-ul’s footprints. She followed with only the slightest hesitation.
They stopped a few feet above the highest reach of the surf, small as it was. In spite of his nerves, Yili found himself reveling in the Sun God’s touch upon his skin. It had been too long since he last allowed himself to really feel His warmth. It was like returning home, somehow.
Ahead, Care-ul was nearing the constantly pounding surf that marked the breakers’ location. She stopped moving forward and instead bobbed there for a time. How she managed that, Yili could not guess, and yet she did. Her head moved from side to side; she was clearly surveying the scene and weighing her options. Smart. Finally, she seemed to roll over herself and sank beneath the waves, her feet kicking out of the water for just a second before vanishing completely.
Beside him, Caeli gasped. “Is she…” She broke off. The distress in her voice was matched on her face, which had grown pale, though not as pale as Care-ul’s.
Yili shook his head. “I do not think so. The Gods did not bring her here so she could die in the water.”
No sooner had his words left his lips than Care-ul re-appeared, her head breaking the water in a rush. Again she bobbed for a time, and then she went back under.
And again. And again.
Yili lost count of the number of times she went under. At first Caeli was nervous with each disappearance. In truth, so was he, though he chose to not reveal it to Caeli; better only one of them be afraid. But after a few trips, even she became calm. After all, Care-ul always came back up.
Finally, after more times diving beneath the waves than Yili cared to count, Care-ul rose form the depths and turned around, then began pulling herself toward the beach, and them. As before, when he watched Air-ick pull himself and her from the water, Yili found himself entranced watching her. The way she was able to turn the water to her will…that alone spoke of her divine origins. He forced himself to stop thinking of the other reasons she belonged in the heavens above. It was not fitting.
All the same, when she found her footing in the shallows near the beach and rose to her full height, Yili found himself gaping. The water streaming down her toned body, reflecting the light from the Sun God in ways he had never imagined… It was difficult to avoid becoming entranced.
Fortunately, when he glanced aside at Caeli, he saw she was similarly impressed, and had to force her eyes away from the God-woman to meet his. She smiled shyly, as though she were a newly-flowered woman flirting with a man she thought might make a good husband. What thoughts went through her mind to make her act like that?
Care-ul’s voice drew both their eyes back to her. She wore a broad smile and held up a strange object for them to see. It was long and round, like a piece of wood. But it wood it was not, colored like the sky at sunset the way it was. And it had a bulbous end, sheathed in see-through material of some kind. Yili could see another bulb-thing below that material as well.
What was that? He found himself retreating a half-step. Caeli did the same.
Care-ul’s grin became wider and she laughed before speaking. Her words were unintelligible, but when she gestured toward the object, Yili thought she said something that sounded like “EE-perb.”
He just stared back at her and shrugged in confusion.
Care-ul opened her mouth to speak again.
And, just then, Yili saw it. A flash of darkness at the edge of his vision. Oh Gods….
He had feared the Beast would come, but after so much time waiting for the god-woman, he had dared to hope it would not. Yili turned away from Care-ul, casting around the beach quickly as he tried to locate the Beast. Nothing.
And then another flash of black. To the right this time.
“RUN!”
His shout caused Caeli to jump. From the corner of his eye, he saw her look at him with confusion mixed with fear.
“The Beast,” he snarled. He reached out and pushed her shoulder, sending her stumbling forward toward the tree line. ‘RUN!”
Caeli ran, and Yili followed. Behind him, he heard Care-ul exclaim in surprise and, he thought, anger. But after a few seconds her footsteps followed in rapid succession: she was running. Thank the Gods. Yili turned his head quickly left and right, but again he could not see anything concrete. The occasional flash of darkness, but never the dark mass he had seen when the Beast killed Air-ick.
And then they were beneath the palm trees.
Caeli stumbled to a halt a few steps past the safety of the tree line, then fell to her knees, her breaths coming in gasping heaves. She was not used to running that way. Then again, Yili found he had to lean against the trunk of a palm tree for support, his heart raced so.
Care-ul, though… When she broke through the tree line and stopped next to them, she was wet, but probably that was still water from the sea. Her breathing was only slightly more rapid than normal, and she looked calm. No, that was not right. She looked enraged. The glare she cast Yili’s way contained daggers. Why?
Caeli noticed the glare as well and rose. Rather, she forced herself, painfully Yili thought, to her feet, and walked over to Care-ul. The two women had a long and hushed conversation. To spare his ears, Yili was sure…but also probably because of Care-ul’s limited vocabulary.
Finally, Caeli stepped back from Care-ul, looking up at her and nodding, a small smile on her face. Care-ul still frowned, but it was more speculative than angry. She looked at Yili and their eyes met.
Her eyes had depths he had never dreamt a woman could have. Intellect, confidence, courage, knowledge…all those things and more were contained in her gaze. All of a sudden, Yili felt unworthy, ashamed. He lowered his eyes and breathed a soft apology, for what he was not sure; it just seemed the appropriate thing to do.
He looked back up in time to see Care-ul’s nod of acceptance before she turned away.
#
Shumay’s frown would have been enough to darken the sun, had cloud cover not already accomplished that feat. “You are sure of this?”
Yili nodded. “We got away just in time.”
They sat within Shumay’s hut, out of the way from the others at the uphill edge of the village. Unlike many others of the village huts, Shumay’s had the feel of having been lived in your ages. And no wonder; by tradition it passed to the wisest of the elders when the previous wisest passed on. Generations of the wise had left an indelible mark on the place. Tokens of power hung from the ceiling, and the walls were painted and carved with the history of the people. Regardless of what happened to the other huts in the village – and for one reason or another most were replaced periodically – this one stood inviolate. Permanent.
Just like its occupants. The individual might fade away to take its place with the Gods, but the position of wisest would always be there. Would always live on.
Shumay licked her lips and turned away from Yili. She stepped over to the wall carvings to the left of the hut entrance. Reaching up, she ran withered fingers along the carvings as though reading them through her fingertips. And who knows, she may have been doing just that. The wisest possessed abilities and insights that the rest of the people did not.
“Did Caeli see it?”
Yili shook his head. “No.” He paused, replaying the event in his mind. Finally, he added, “But she has never been to the beach before. She may not have known what to look for. Or she may have convinced herself she was imagining things.” Shame made him lower his eyes. “I know I did, the first time I saw it.” Not so long ago, that. Would Air-ick still be alive had he recognized what he was seeing? Had he acted sooner?
Yili could only tell himself all would have happened the way it did; that it had been the will of the Gods. But he was not so sure he believed that.
Shumay nodded slowly, her lips pursed in thought. “And the woman?”
Yili noticed Shumay never called Care-ul by name, and wondered about it. He knew better than to ask, though. He shook his head. “She was confused, and angry at me. If she had seen it…” She would not have been angry if she had recognized the danger. That did not need to be said, though.
Shumay nodded, then let out a breath that Yili had not realized she was holding. “So long as it remains confined to the beach, it is not a problem. Hopefully.” She was silent for a time.
Yili eventually took the silence to indicate he was dismissed, and he turned away from her, toward the hut entrance. He was just about to exit when Shumay spoke again, stopping him in his tracks.
“What is this thing, this…EE-perb…she recovered from the site?”
Yili looked back at Shumay and spread his hand helplessly. “I tried to ask her, but she did not have the language to explain. She seemed happy to find it, though. Ecstatic.”
Shumay nodded again, noticeably more slowly this time. Then she waved Yili out with a dismissive gesture of her hand. Yili took no offense.
#
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A collection of Michael Kingswood’s published stories are available here: