Skin (7 page)

Now all were free to run the fires. The threshold maidens were brought forward first
and Llwyd called blessings on their wombs as they entered the flames. Young men raced
to the other side to meet them when they emerged.

Tribespeople were dancing furiously, drunk on the fireheat. Maiden and knave were
writhing in pairs, then racing down the hillside or coupling right there by the
fire.

I hovered at the edges and saw Bebin bounding away with Uaine. Ianna and Cah were
nowhere to be seen. I turned back to the fires. They were why I had come.

When all the tribespeople had run and only those without skin remained, it was my
turn. I walked to the threshold. Once I had run through this passage of fire, I would
be something other. Something new.

The heat was searing. It pushed me back, yet I forced myself forward.

‘Run! Run!' chanted the few who awaited their turn.

I ran. Embers blistered my feet and stung my eyes, but I pushed on blindly. The passage
went on and on. The heat was too great. I stopped, panicked. Were the fires collapsing?
There was no way forward. I cried
out, my voice drowned in the roar of the flames.
How had others endured this torment? Every part of me commanded me to turn back,
but I kept going. There was a final, unbearable surge of heat. My bones softened
like iron in a forge, then I burst out the other side into the cool night. I had
done it. I was through.

I beat out the sparks smouldering on my dress and looked around, unable to wipe the
smile from my face.

‘Found you!' Ruther was at my side.

I threw my arms around him, unexpectedly happy to see him, then screamed with laughter
as he scooped me up and began to run. With my height, I was no easy load, and he
staggered as we careered down the hill. I could not stop laughing with his every
clumsy step.

Where the hill met the flatland he set me down and we fell to the grass, panting
as our laughter faded. Out of the fire-warmth, it was dark and cold. I could not
make out his features as he took my face in his hands.

‘Do you accept me?' His voice was hoarse from chanting.

‘Ruther, I am unskinned.'

‘I follow the laws of my own judgment, Doorstep. Do you?

‘Don't call me so!'

He pulled me closer. ‘Will you take me?'

His hips were hard against mine. My singed skin howled for his touch. ‘I will.'

His mouth descended and I startled at its strange, serpent softness and its taste
of ale.

We stood and walked a short way to the shelter of a fennel bank. Then, with the crackle
of fire masking my sharp cries of pain and pleasure, and the cool grass beneath
my back, the doings of a man and a woman were made known to me.

We slept entwined, part-hidden under the fennel. I awakened with the starlings' cry.
In the rosy light I watched Ruther's face: his smooth, broad cheeks and lips half
smiling, even in sleep. The thick muscles of his chest and shoulders were slack.
There was so much force in him, yet last night he had been gentle.

His eyes flickered open and he seemed to take a moment to remember where he was.
‘Tidings,' he croaked.

‘And to you.'

‘Forgive me,' he said, ‘You will not be called Doorstep and I do not remember your
true name.'

I could not help but laugh. ‘What if I were a nobleman's daughter?'

‘But you are not.' He stared at me through bleary eyes. ‘You're of the groves, aren't
you?'

‘No,' I said, frowning at his forgetfulness. ‘I am of the Tribequeen's kitchen.'

‘A kitchen girl! I
have
chosen highly.'

I lowered my eyes and rubbed off the ash smeared on my legs.

He sat up and pulled the leather tie from his hair, scratching it loose. ‘I'd have
picked you for an initiate, though. There's a presence about you—' He reached for
me, snuffling my neck like a boar. ‘You are beguiling.'

I smiled. ‘The fires beguiled you.'

‘No,' he said, pulling me close, ‘it's you.' His kiss tasted bitter and stale, but
he was so assured in his want of me, and so splendid behind the creases of sleep,
that I had to return it.

‘What have you done?' He held my face between his warm hands. ‘You're fine-faced—true—but
so are many women…' He frowned and drew back his head. ‘Have you charmed me this
night?'

‘No,' I said. ‘Why would I have wish or knowledge to charm you?'

He stared hard at me. ‘Then, by the Mothers, I am caught,' he declared. ‘By a kitchen
girl. And without skin!' He laughed in disbelief.

‘You're not caught,' I said, annoyed. ‘We are fire lovers, nothing more. Have no
fear.'

He offered me his water pouch before taking a long draft himself. Around us people
were rising and wandering back to the township. Ruther stood and took a long piss
against a tree.

‘Mule!' I laughed.

When he sat back down he stared at me again. Neither smoke nor little sleep had dimmed
the blue of his eyes. ‘Woman, I speak in truth.' He lowered his voice. ‘I know not
what magic was worked last night, but there is a force in you that has disarmed me
entirely. I am here for only one more day before I ride the trade routes again. Will
you join me at the feast today?'

‘I will be serving—'

‘Then tonight?' he pressed.

There was something of the child in his demand and it did not kindle my affection.
‘If I am free.'

He reached for a last embrace and laid his head upon my chest. My thoughts spun as
I looked out over the fields of Cad, Ruther cradled like a babe in my arms. He lifted
his head. ‘Would you remind me of your cursed name?'

I laughed. ‘Seek it for yourself, if you are so persuaded!' I stood up, brushing
the twigs from my skirts, and bade him farewell.

Cah spoke of feeling weakened by the doings of a man. But I felt strengthened as
I walked back to Cad, as if I had a new part to myself.

‘At last,' said Cookmother as I walked through the door. She handed me a cup of warm
goat's milk. Bebin and Ianna had also returned.
We awaited only Cah before we would
go to the river to scrub the ash from our faces and smoke from our hair.

Over porridge and milk we shared our night's stories. Ianna squealed when I told
them of Ruther, but Bebin and Cookmother were silent.

‘Cah had Fec,' said Bebin.

‘Fec?' said Ianna. ‘But she said—'

‘Hush,' chided Bebin, as the doorskins were pushed open.

Cah walked in without greeting, dark shadows ringing her eyes.

‘Come, Cah.' Ianna leaped to her feet. ‘We've been waiting. We have to bathe before—'

‘Stop clucking,' groaned Cah, but she gathered her soaps and brushes without further
complaint.

‘Ailia,' Cookmother called as we were walking out the door.

I turned around, though I knew what she would say.

‘Be careful, Lamb. Not too far in.'

All along its length, tribespeople were ducking and splashing in the River Cam, taking
their year's first bath in its sacred water. Our springs and rivers were the openings
to the Mothers' realm. Water was their gift.

We walked upstream where the waters broadened to a deep bathing pool, at least fifteen
paces wide and well hidden by trees. Cah disrobed first. I admired the compact strength
of her. Her long hair was black as charcoal, but her skin was pale and her eyes were
blue. She was handsome when she did not scowl. Ianna was not blessed with beauty.
Her hair was the colour of carrots and her face often matched it. Her fleshy belly
and thick legs laid bare her weakness for Cookmother's milk pudding and any other
sweets besides, but she was as smile-ready as she was slow-witted. Bebin was the
queen of us. I could only shake my head at the creation of her.

I pulled off my sandals, dress and under-robe, then sat down on the bank, letting
my feet trail in the shallows. The cool morning pimpled my skin. As I looked at my
thin legs, dotted with bruises, slightly bowed, and my narrow feet with their widespread
toes, I wondered what meetings and marriages had crafted this body? What story flowed
in its blood? Were these my mother's legs? My father's feet? Was there a sister somewhere
with toes like mine?

Ianna shrieked at the water's edge and clutched her arms around her. ‘Ooh, the wind
is cold enough. How will we manage the water?'

‘Just start with your toe,' said Cah. ‘Stand on the large rock there and tell us
how cool it is—sometimes the brook is warmer than the air.'

‘It will freeze our blood, I tell you.' She leaned over the jutting edge of a large
river stone. As sure as I knew she would do it, Cah was behind her and, with a solid
shove, Ianna was toppled, arms flailing, into the water.

‘You're a wretch!' she cried when she surfaced. ‘Mothers! I'm chilled to the innards.'

Cah was rolling with laughter and I could not help smiling at the sight of it, but
I did not like her way of humour.

I stood up and walked to the rock. ‘Don't try it with me, Cah,' I said as I leaned
over to help Ianna.

She was still chuckling, but she left me alone.

The river ran with snowmelt and we could not stay long submerged. We sat on the bank,
scrubbing each other's backs with handfuls of salt and tallow soap, then plunged
back in to rinse the lather, laughing at the spidery whiteness of each other's limbs
in the dark of the water. We stayed talking, daring each other to hop back in, over
and over. The girls skimmed across the width of the river while I remained only where
I could stand. Swimming was taught to all children of the river tribes, and was yet
another skill I was unworthy to learn.

‘It must be time to go.' Bebin heaved herself onto the bank and the other two scrambled
after her.

Although I was the weakest swimmer, I was always the last to leave the water. I was
waist-deep in the soft current when something flickered across my thigh. ‘A fish!'
I called in delight. It glided back past my belly, as long as a hare and bright as
the moon. Rarely had I seen salmon in this part of the river. ‘Sisters, see this
fish!'

They peered over the edge, but the salmon dived into the darkness. As soon as they
turned away it appeared again, breaking the surface an arm's length from me, its
skin glinting in the sun.

‘Look!' I cried.

But again it plunged from view when the girls craned to see it, and they returned
to their drying and dressing.

I stared into the muddied water and shivered as a ripple touched my back. Then the
fish was in front of me, nibbling fragments of reed caught on my thigh. I wanted
to laugh with the tickle of it, but I stayed silent so it would not be frightened
away.

Ianna and Cah began to walk back.

‘Bebin,' I said softly as she squeezed water from her hair. ‘Look at this pretty
creature.'

She peered down. ‘I see nothing at all.'

‘Don't you see it eating, right here beneath the surface?'

‘You're still fire-maddened from the rites,' she said, smiling. She wriggled her
robe over her arms and picked up her basket. ‘Hurry and catch me up, or Cookmother
will be in a temper.'

I stared at the fish and reached to touch it. It darted away, but not before I felt
the quiver of its muscle, the slick of its skin. ‘You are real,' I whispered.

Bebin was right. It was time to return. But I could not tear myself away from this
intriguing animal. I plunged under the water to clear my senses. When I broke the
surface, the fish was gone.