Free Ivory Carver 02 - My Sister the Moon by Sue Harrison Page B

Kiin laid the whale tooth shell aside. Then Amgigh leaned her back against the furs of his sleeping place. 
    Other times, with other men, Kiin had fought. It had seemed the only way to keep her honor, even though it meant bruises—bruises from the trader who had purchased her for the night, and later, when the trader complained, when he showed the marks of Kiin's teeth on his skin, another beating from her father. Even the few times when a trader had been gentle, she still fought. She fought the trader and she fought against the betrayal of her body, against that part of her that would give in, that would become like the Whale Hunter women, laughed at for their eager ways. 

    But now Amgigh was her husband. She did not have to fight. He must have been with other women, in other villages. She would show Amgigh that she could please him as much as any woman. 
    She began moving her fingers slowly in circles down his belly, slowly, slowly. Chagak laughed again; again Kayugh replied. Kiin heard Samiq's voice, and for a moment her hands stopped. "No," her spirit said. "Amgigh, not Samiq." 
    I am wife, Kiin thought, and again she stroked Amgigh's smooth oiled skin. Wife to Amgigh, Kiin thought, and made her hands move with the rhythm of her thoughts. Wife to Amgigh. Wife to Amgigh. 
    Amgigh held Kiin even after her slowed breathing told him she was asleep. He had taken her quickly. Perhaps in a little while, he would be ready again. Then he would wake her, but for now it was good just to hold her, to feel her softness against his skin. 
    Having a wife is better than hunting whale, he told himself. He knew Kiin had had other men. Gray Bird sold her as hospitality. How many evenings had Amgigh watched from the ulaq roof as Samiq paced the beach? How many times had he seen the anger on Samiq's face as Kiin emerged the next morning and hobbled to the edge of the sea to wash blood from her face, from her legs, her arms? And when Samiq had seen Amgigh and Kayugh laden with furs and walking to Gray Bird's ulaq, he had stopped Amgigh, stared deep into Amgigh's eyes. "Be careful with her tonight," he had said. "Be gentle." And Samiq would not let him pass until Amgigh had nodded his agreement. 
    Amgigh had had a woman before—an old Whale Hunter woman who had sneaked into his sleeping place once when he went with his father on a trading trip. She had taken him quickly, had ridden him as though she were the man. And the next day Amgigh had felt fumbling and stupid. 
    But with Kiin . . . Her hands had been strong, moving over his stomach, then to his shoulders and down his back to buttocks and thighs, teasing him until the throbbing in his loins  told him he could wait no longer. But he had remembered Samiq's request. He had been gentle. 
    In the darkness Amgigh smiled. 
    Samiq would marry a Whale Hunter woman, loud and used to ruling her man. Yes, Samiq would learn to hunt the whale. But he had promised to teach Amgigh. Then Amgigh, too, would know. Amgigh would know and have Kiin as well. Amgigh sighed and pulled Kiin closer so he could smell the sweetness of her hair. 
    Perhaps by next spring, Amgigh thought, I will have a son. 

TWELVE
    QAKAN WOKE EARLY, EVEN BEFORE HIS MOTHER had trimmed lamps and emptied night baskets. He climbed to the top of his father's ulaq and in the dark of early morning looked out over the ulakidaq, looked out over the beach. 
    He was hungry. He should have pulled something from the food cache, but now he was sitting on the ulaq. It would be too much trouble to go back inside. Besides, his mother would soon be up. She would bring him something. 
    He yawned. Everything was still. Even the wind had died leaving the sea to roll almost calmly into shore. A movement from one of the other ulas caught Qakan's eye. Probably Chagak. There was no laziness in the woman. But no, it was Kiin. Kiin out to empty the night wastes. 
    Qakan smiled, almost laughed. Kayugh had paid sixteen skins and a knife for