Bradley, Marion Zimmer - Novel 19 (28 page)

 
          
Miranda
gulped and struggled with her tears. She said, sniffling, trying to smile at
Cendri, clinging to her, "How do you know so much about people, Cendri,
when I thought you would only know about dead
civilizations,
and people who have been dead for millions of years—"

 
          
It
was like ice-water; could Miranda possibly guess that she was more a student of
cultures than of archaeology? She urged gently, "Come back to the seats,
Miranda—I have lived on University, that is all, and we have so many different
kinds of people and societies there." She urged Miranda up the rapidly
emptying stairs and corridors. At one crossroad she stopped, looked down; it
led—evidently—directly down toward the quarters where the athletes readied
themselves for the arena, the dressing rooms— or, since they performed naked,
the
undressing rooms?—and saw Dal. He was at the center of a group of men,
clustered tight around him, and for a moment she felt brief unease. Rhu had
made it clear that despite his preferred status as a Companion—or perhaps
because of it—he was not welcome or even safe in an ordinary group of men from
a Men's House.

 
          
But
it was also immediately obvious that Dal was in no danger. They flocked around
him; athletes, naked, sweaty, or wrapped in loose towels or capes, still
wearing the ribbons and garlands of the arena; other ordinary men of
Isis
in their drab clothing. But one and all
were wide-eyed, clustering around him with something like reverence. Was he
lecturing them, conspiring with them,
making
incendiary statements? Or was it simply a kind of hero worship— they were
simply eager to see, touch,
listen
to a man from the
worlds where men were not woman's property? In all the time she had been on
Isis
she had seen no such male assembly. Was it
even permitted? Would Dal get into trouble over this? Or did anyone on
Isis
even know or care what men did among
themselves? Was Dal an inspiration to them, then...? He turned, made his way
slowly through them; they reached out to touch him, reluctant to let him go,
but made way deferentially, did not hinder him. Cendri realized that they must
get back at once to their seats, the important part of the show was beginning.
Also she was reluctant for Dal to know she had been watching him. At Miranda's
side she went quickly along the area behind the seats and back into the
Official Box. Miranda hung back, saying in a whisper, "I don't want my
mother to see that I have been crying—" and pushed Cendri forward to sit
next to the Pro-Matriarchs. Dal and Rhu slipped into the Box, taking seats at
the back, and Cendri noticed out of the corner of her eye that Rhu slid into a
seat close to Miranda.

 
          
She
leaned back and whispered to Dal, "Where have you been? I saw you with the
men—"

 
          
Dal's
eyes were hard. "Keep out of this Cendri. I mean that."

 
          
The
final contests began. Cendri, steated in the prominent Official Box, could see
the women around the arena, watching the struggling men, wrestling, struggling,
locked together, were leaning forward in fascination and excitement. Cendri
could see all the signs of frankly sexual arousal—flushed faces, moist lips,
dilated eyes. She had never seen women react this way; the nearest thing she
had ever seen to it was when she had watched men at some of the sex-display
entertainments in the spaceport night-life areas. The women here applauded,
made loud appreciative comments, whistled and
shrieked,
threw down flowers and garlands in excitement. Cendri, comparing the reactions
of the women to the reactions of the men in the cruder sex-display areas in the
Unity, realized they were virtually identical. She had always believed—
naively, she now realized—that women were immune to visual sex stimulation of
this kind.

 
          
Well,
what had she expected? This had been the only contact she had seen between men
and women. They didn't associate in any normal way with men. Somehow or other
they must have sex with them—and it's physical sex, they didn't react very
favorably when Miranda mentioned artificial conceptions in the Unity—but I
still don't know under what conditions it takes place. Judging from this, the
taboos are very strong and definite! She thought of this and recognized that
she was behaving, almost automatically, like the trained anthropologist and
cultural expert she was, but on a deeper level, she realized, there was
something more personal.

 
          
Poor
women,
they haven't any idea of what
men are like as people___

 
          
The
winner of the final wrestling match, a huge muscular fellow with great bulging
biceps and pectorals, and a gleaming golden mop of curls, obviously dyed, was
being garlanded with flowers and serenaded with a song by the men of the city.
He looked around the stands, winking, leering, mugging in a way she had seen no
man on
Isis
do, soaking in the appreciative squeals of
the women in the stands. He came directly below the Official Box, and Mahala
rose and spoke a few gracious words, handing the prize down to him—it was a
complete and fairly expensive hunting outfit, warm clothing, boots, bow and
arrows, sleeping bags, tent, and a number of other items whose uses Cendri
could not even guess. She noted, from Vaniya's quiet explanation, that the
items of clothing had been provided in duplicate for each of the major entrants
so that each could take home his prizes for immediate use. A lottery was being
held to give away the unclaimed prizes, and the men in the arena were laughing
and strutting and jostling one another good-naturedly, but the women in the
stands, the events over, were rising and crowding toward the exits.

 
          
"Let
us wait a few minutes," Vaniya said. "Miranda, you do not want to be
jostled in the crowds now."

 
          
"When
is your baby due?" Mahala asked, coming to Miranda and taking her hand in
a gracious gesture.

 
          
"Not
very long now," Miranda replied. Her tears were dried now and she looked
calm, though weary. "I had thought it might have come already by now, but
they come when they will."

 
          
Mahala
turned to Vaniya and said, "So you will have an heir at last, if it is a
daughter. How proud of her you must be!"

 
          
"I
am indeed, cousin," said Vaniya. Cendri knew that in the language of
Isis
this did not denote relationship but was a
term of courtesy between equals. "And our Inquirer, Maret, tells us the
child will be a girl, so it is indeed my heir who awaits birth." She stood
at the rail of the box, looking down at the handsome naked men good-naturedly
pushing one another out of the way as the remaining prizes were distributed and
every competitor received boxes of confectionery and bright ribbons and
garlands. With everyone standing near the exits it was crowded in the box, and
Cendri was shoved against the other women. She felt a body pressed tight
against hers, knew it was the ample form of Vaniya; the Pro-Matriarch put an
arm around her waist, and Cendri let herself lean on the older woman. Vaniya's
cheek pressed hers, and Cendri, responding for a moment to what seemed a
spontaneous gesture of
affection,
let her head rest a
moment on Vaniya's shoulder. Then she realized, startled and more than a little
shocked, that the heavy body was pressing hard and purposefully against hers,
that Vaniya's hands had strayed to her breasts and were fondling them gently,
but insistently. She tensed in embarrassment, her first, startled response to
pull sharply away, in outrage and dismay. Then she remained very still, thinking
faster than she had ever thought in her life.

 
          
In
a sense it was a compliment, a mark of total acceptance, that Vaniya should
treat her this way. Such an event seemed to be a legitimate occasion, among the
women of
Isis
, for near-public displays of sexual
arousal; and Vaniya, forgetting or ignoring her alien origin, was treating her
as one of their own.

 
          
At
the same time, she thought ruefully, textbooks on anthropology gave no hint as
to how one should react in such a case. She knew she ought to feel revulsion,
rage,
disgust
; instead, what she felt was a kind of
helpless tenderness. She stood very quietly in the circle of Vaniya's arms,
neither responding to nor rejecting the caress, and after a moment Vaniya,
aware of her reaction—or lack of it—took her hands away and smiled, almost in
apology. She said softly, slipping her hand through Cendri's arm, "Forgive
me, my child, I had really forgotten, for a moment, that you were not one of
us."

 
          
Cendri
gave the plump arm a gentle, momentary squeeze, and they moved out of the box
on to the stairs, as Vaniya said in an undertone "I am an indiscreet old
fool. Are you very angry with me, little Cendri?"

 
          
"Angry?
No, Vaniya, I'm not angry," Cendri said gently, and Vaniya, squeezing her
arm again, moved away from her to Miranda's side.

 
          
"Cousin,"
said Mahala, "You have waited so long for an heir, and you are so beset
now with cares, your guests from University, that you cannot enjoy this
fortunate time; if it is your will, I will gladly have the honored guests from
the Unity to lodge with me, so that you can give all your attention to Miranda
and her coming child, and to making ready for the birth-festival. Would that
release you from care, cousin? I will willingly relieve you of this duty."

 
          
"I
am sure of it," Vaniya returned with a dulcet smile, "but it was our
Mother's will that I should have them where they can be convenient to their
work, and personal cares and conflicts must come second to my duty to our High
Matriarch. I am sure there are many other duties and responsibilities to your
hand, cousin."

 
          
Cendri
thought;
they really hate each other, don't they?
She watched the rival
Pro-Matriarchs descending the stairway, and again the image touched her mind;
Vaniya as a great tawny lioness, Mahala—she had seen Mahala, in private, as a
small friendly kitten; here she saw her as a sleek, prowling black panther!

 
          
They
moved to the stairs and she found Dal at her elbow. His face was tense,
storm-clouded. He said, in an angry whisper, "I saw that wretched old dame
trying to paw you, and you didn't seem to mind at all, you were letting her put
her hands all over you, and grinning at her—I knew the women here were filthy
and corrupt, but damn it, Cendri, when you join in that kind of thing—"

 
          
"That's
enough, Dal," she said, in a sharp undertone. "For them it's normal.
Vaniya wasn't crude about it, and from her it was a compliment. If I wasn't
offended, how dare you make an issue of it?"

 
          
"Compliment!"
Dal said in outrage. "It's
their world, they can do anything they damn please, but when you stand there
letting her maul you, and stand there smiling up at her, looking pieased—and
say you weren't offended—"

 
          
"Lower
your voice," she ordered sharply. "Have you forgotten where we
are?"

           
"How in the hell can I
forget?" But he did drop his voice to a whisper again. "Lousy,
corrupt—and
you're
my
wife!
How could
you—"

 
          
"Dal,
for mercy's sake, what was I supposed to do? Yell, slap her, make a scene,
precipitate
a diplomatic incident? When she saw I wasn't
reacting, she let me go and apologized for forgetting I wasn't one of them.
Can't you see that's a compliment, Dal?"

 
          
"Some
compliment," he grumbled, unappeased, and held her back so that they were
some distance between the two Pro-Matriarchs, who had reached the bottom of the
stairs and were exchanging—Cendri supposed from their looks—formal courtesies
prior to entering the waiting official cars. Dal said, "Listen, Cendri, I
think we ought to think seriously about leaving Vaniya's house—I'll be damn
glad to get out of the place—and moving to stay with the other one, Mahala.
She's a reasonable woman, in spite of her fears of the Unity. We can relate to
her in a way we never could to Vaniya, with all her supersitious nonsense about
the Builders and their sacred site."

 
          
"Dal,
I really don't think—"

 
          
"Look,
after all, it's a way of demonstrating that we aren't really allied to Vaniya's
political faction. And today something happened which made me realize—"