Amber and Clay by Laura Schlitz (easy books to read TXT) 📗

She did not name the bear. To her, it was the only bear in the world, and she called it simply αρκτσς, Bear. She didn’t know whether it was male or female. Often when they wrestled, the bear rolled over on its back, but Melisto was kept too busy dodging its claws to investigate its sex.

As the bear grew, it became more familiar with her person. It suckled her neck and her fingers, pawed her, nosed her, and gnawed on her. If a sudden noise frightened the bear, it ran to her, rose up on its hind legs, and flung its front paws around her. Once it tried to climb her like a tree. Melisto’s skin was covered with teeth marks, scratches, and indentations, though her puncture wounds were miraculously few. When they wrestled, Melisto pitted her whole strength against the cub. She was largely unconscious of the injuries she received while playing. The moments when the bear hurt her were only chinks in the joy she felt. The joy was the real thing. Afterward, when the bear burrowed next to her, or tumbled into her lap, she felt as if her heart would burst. She sat cross-legged, her hands buried in the bear’s fur, while her legs ached and tingled and fell asleep.

She was down by the bridge late one afternoon, digging worms — the bear greatly relished worms — when a shadow fell over her. She glanced up and saw Korinna. Her face was in shadow, but brilliant sunlight lit the edges of her violet-colored dress.

Melisto rose and stood with her head bowed. Now that the bear had come, she devoted fewer thoughts to Korinna, but the priestess still inspired adoration.

“Are you digging worms for the bear?”

“Yes,” Melisto answered, wondering if she was in trouble.

“You feed the bear often.”

“It’s always hungry,” Melisto countered.

“It’s growing.” Korinna walked onto the bridge and sat down halfway across. She took off her sandals and placed them beside her. Drawing her peplos up to mid-thigh, she wiggled to the edge of the bridge, and lowered her feet into the water. She patted the stone, inviting Melisto to join her.

Melisto rinsed her dirty hands in the water and wiped them on her chiton. Then she sat down beside Korinna, copying the older girl’s pose. With unwonted politeness, she waited for Korinna to speak.

“We feed the bear well,” Korinna explained, “because it is sacred to Artemis. The other priestesses know you’ve been feeding it. It isn’t forbidden. You must know, Melisto, that your visits to the stable have been observed.”

Melisto had not known. She cupped her hands in her lap and kept her eyes lowered.

“I warned you that a bear cannot be tamed.” Korinna’s voice was neutral. She was reminding Melisto of what she had said, not rebuking her. “All the same, you have formed a friendship with it. I believe it’s as tame with you as it will ever be.”

“It likes me.” Melisto spoke shyly. She was aware that it was a proud claim.

“Of course it does. You bring food, and you play with it. A cub needs to play, and in feeding it, you have forged a link with it. It is possible, with young animals, to create a bond. The bond might not last when the animal comes of age. It’s one thing to play with a bear cub — and even now, you are black and blue — ”

Melisto forgot herself and looked up into Korinna’s face. “It doesn’t hurt me,” she said earnestly. For a moment her mind slipped back into the past. She recalled the bruises she had carried from her mother’s pinches, and the sore patches on her scalp from Lysandra’s hair-pulling. She remembered the loathing in her mother’s face that struck terror into her soul. She had never been afraid of the bear like that.

“That isn’t my point. The point is, even if the bear seems tame now, it won’t be tame when it’s full-grown. It will be strong enough to kill you, and the bond will be broken.”

Melisto did not believe it.

Korinna swung her feet in the water. Her feet were pale and slender. Seen through the clear water, they appeared vaporous. “You know I tame the deer to drive my chariot.”

“Yes,” Melisto murmured respectfully. From the shelter of her favorite tree she had watched Korinna. The priestess fed the deer from her hands, and it was beautiful. She was patient, steadfast, uncanny in her rapport.

“I don’t tame them — ” Korinna stopped. She leaned back on her hands, scanning the blue sky. “I don’t tame them the way I card wool. You can card wool and think of other things, and it doesn’t matter how you feel when you do it; the wool will be combed. But when I tame the deer, I have to be clear in my mind, because the deer can sense what I’m feeling. I have to have a respect for them, an affection. Feeding them, that’s part of it, and holding still, that’s another part, but it isn’t all. In the end, a wild animal doesn’t trust you unless it senses something else. There is a bond between me and the deer I tame. But some of them are sacrificed.”

Melisto felt a chill pass through her.

“If they are chosen to die, that’s the will of the gods. I am a priestess of Artemis, and I must be glad. And because I have tamed them, I’m the one who leads them to the altar. I distract them while the priest readies the knife. Melisto, if the bear is sacrificed — ”

“But the bear shouldn’t be sacrificed!” Melisto’s voice rose impetuously. She forgot that Korinna was Korinna. “I told you before — when the bear was sacrificed at Brauron, Artemis was angry! She doesn’t want — ”

Korinna’s eyes flashed. “It’s not for you to say what Artemis wants! How dare you interrupt me? I seek to do you a kindness — ”

“What kindness?” Melisto’s cheeks were red.