The Exile and the Sorcerer (37 page)

This may at first seem amusing, but in practice, it is quite odious. People’s lives are made miserable if their stature is such as to challenge the assertions about gender and height. It is as if tall women or short men have committed an indiscretion and are deserving of derision or censure. With personality traits, such as aggression or compassion, that are harder to measure objectively and seen as under the individual’s control (despite the contradiction with the idea that they are fixed by nature), the extent of the assumed polarisation and culpability is intensified. It is a brave person who refuses to distort his or her personality by pretending to match their gender stereotype.

Some people in Walderim seem aware that their culture’s gender stereotyping is artificial. Yet by adulthood, the beliefs have been ingrained on a subconscious level. However much they might value courage and independence, they are still more comfortable ridiculing an assertive woman than they are respecting her—since, needless to say, the majority of positive character traits are seen as male. For women to assume an active role in society, they will need to overcome the stigma of being “unfeminine.”

The enforced divergence of the sexes has one inevitable side effect. It has been observed that everyone is romantically attracted to a narrow spectrum of personality type, centred around a few key traits. Since children in Walderim are raised to see the characters of men and women as diametrically opposite, it follows that anyone seeking a long-term partner will perceive their idealised mate as falling into an exclusively male or female pattern, and will even be unable to respond to the personality type if it is encountered in the “wrong” sex. I strongly suspect that few raised in this culture will be capable of falling passionately in love with persons of either sex.

This would be of no more than incidental interest were it not for strict local doctrines forbidding erotic relationships between people of the same gender. Such relationships are claimed to be deviant and unnatural.

During my time in Walderim, I have been discreetly approached by many with an exclusive attraction to people of their own gender, who wish me to “cure” them. I have been astonished by the strength of their belief in their culture’s doctrine. They agree that people are right to despise them. They despise themselves.

The first time the request was made of me, I made the mistake of telling the man that while in the Protectorate, my own lovers had not been restricted to women. I suggested that he accompany me when I returned. Instead of the relief I expected, the man accused me of trying to turn Walderim into a “decadent” region like the Protectorate. To my astonishment, he told me in an impassioned speech that “some people still know what normal behaviour is.” He then resorted to denouncing me to the rest of his tribe, claiming that I had tried to “defile” him.

I can conclude by saying that of all the things I have found in Walderim, this is the one that has surprised me the most. I was prepared to find people held in a state of subservience and those in power enforcing their beliefs on the less fortunate. However, this self-oppression has left me dumbfounded.

Even where people of different genders are attracted to each other, the result is less than satisfactory from a Protectorate viewpoint. As each partner has to conform to their own gender stereotype and may appreciate their partner only as the opposite stereotype, it seems impossible that they can ever really know their lover. The complaint “My wife doesn’t understand me” is so common as to be a joke. It is all quite astonishing and very sad.

Eliminating the exploitation of migrant workers from northern Walderim is also likely to encounter problems...

*

Jemeryl scanned the rest of the extract, but there was nothing else of relevance. At the end of the chapter were a few additional comments from her grandfather, which stated that the conditions described by Bolitho had largely disappeared from Walderim, although echoes remained, particularly among the lower social orders.

Jemeryl pushed the book away. “I guess that explains what Tevi was going on about. The clans would have taken their beliefs with them to the islands. And it explains her tortured attitude. It must be awful to believe that you’re evil and depraved, and unable to do anything about it.” Jemeryl spoke quietly. “Poor Tevi.”

“So what do you do now?” Klara landed on the desk.

“I don’t know. If Tevi has absorbed her society’s morality in the fashion described by Bolitho, there’s no hope of persuading her to change her mind. But it still doesn’t explain why she doesn’t want me with her. Although I suppose she might be worried that I’ll try to seduce her.”

“That’s not a totally groundless fear on her part.”

Jemeryl shook her head. “It doesn’t match the feel of Tevi’s words. It was as if she expected me to be shocked.”

“Bolitho described a pretty strange mindset. Perhaps the island’s culture is so ingrained that she has to accredit the same ethics to others, even when she must know they won’t share them.”

“Maybe. But there has to be some way around it.”

“On to a new field of enquiry?” Klara said brightly.

Jemeryl considered the bookcase. She summoned a thin volume from the top shelf. “Somewhere in here is a section on the perpetuation of cultural ethics by transferred guilt, considered as an imbalance in fifth-dimensional perspective fields.”

“I suppose you’ve got nothing about the utilisation of incomprehensible terms by sorcerers, considered as a nervous reflex under pressure?”

“No, but I might have a recipe for roast magpie somewhere.”

Night had fallen by the time Jemeryl finished reading. She had found a lot of ominous warnings, but very little in the way of helpful advice. Before leaving the study, she stood for a long while at the window, staring at the moon riding between ragged clouds. Talking to Tevi was going to be difficult, and Jemeryl had the nagging feeling that an important piece of information was still missing.

She left Klara in the study—the magpie’s sarcasm would not help—and went in search of the islander. The castle was so silent, she could hear the thudding of her heart. When she entered the parlour, the only light came from the hearth. The chairs were all empty, but then she spotted Tevi sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring bleakly into the fire.

Tevi did not move at the sound of the door opening and closing. Jemeryl came to a halt a few steps into the room. “Tevi?”

There was no response.

“I’d like to talk to you.”

“If you want. I’m finished with running,” Tevi answered apathetically.

Hesitantly, Jemeryl slipped into a chair beside the fireplace. Tevi’s eyes remained fixed on the flames, her expression one of absolute desolation. Jemeryl knew she was way out of her depth. All of her carefully planned questions evaporated. She was going to have to start talking, keep her words and tone as calm as possible—and hope.

“Tevi...what you said. I’ve been looking at my books and I think I’m beginning to understand, but I’m still unclear. I wonder if you... if we could sort things out.”

The muscles bunched in Tevi’s jaw. “What is there to sort out?”

“Well, from what you’ve said, on your islands men and women have strictly differentiated roles.” Jemeryl spoke in a general search for inspiration. “What are your feelings about the way people relate to each other on the mainland?”

“It doesn’t help, if that’s what you mean.”

“In what way?”

Confusion gave Tevi her first spark of life. “Pardon?”

“In what way doesn’t it help? If that’s not a silly question.”

Tevi glanced in Jemeryl’s direction as if to judge her seriousness. “It confuses me. All the men look and act like women. It’s often impossible for me to tell them apart. But I’ve found it best not to make the effort. If I become too mindful that someone is a man, they usually end up complaining that I’m treating them like an idiot. So I try to act as if they’re all women, but I can only push the pretence so far. Inside, I know they’re not really women, and I’m not...attracted to them like women.”

“That wasn’t quite what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I’ve been reading about Walderim back at the time when your people left. Apparently, the Protectorate attitude to sexual relationships appalled your ancestors. I suppose you feel the same?”

“No...not at all. If anything, it’s better than the islands. When I see couples like Verron and Marith, I think they’re sweet. They treat each other as equals. They talk to each other. It must be nice to have a lover who can also be a friend.”

Jemeryl ran her hand through her hair. Tevi’s response tied in with nothing she had read, unless Tevi was wilfully sidestepping the issue as a defensive strategy, in which case things might get explosive if Jemeryl prodded too far. But she had to try. “So if there’s a couple who are both the same sex, how do you feel about them?”

“You’re asking me?”

“Yes.”

It looked as if Tevi bit back her first intended retort. “If I met such a couple and realised...?” She shrugged. “It would hardly be my place to condemn them. I suppose I’d mind my own business and pretend I’d noticed nothing. Which shouldn’t be hard. It’s not likely they’d be brazenly advertising what they were doing.”

Comprehension caught Jemeryl by surprise. Her eyes fixed on the ceiling, while her mind raced, adding together the odd comments and the conjectures. Everything seemed to add up to a coherent explanation. However, Bolitho’s experience warned against optimism. Locked in her culture’s inflexible beliefs, Tevi had been unable to see what was happening around her, let alone accept it.

“What else do you want to know?” Tevi broke the silence.

“Actually, I was thinking about tunnel vision. More as a metaphor than a medical complaint.”

“What do you mean? My eyes are fine now.”

Instead of replying, Jemeryl sat, reviewing her options—not that there were many. She had to take the risk of enlightening Tevi.

“But you still only see part of the picture.” Jemeryl dropped her gaze. “Your confession this afternoon would have made no sense to me if I hadn’t read a report by a sorcerer who visited Walderim as a healer, two hundred and fifty years ago. What you said reminded me of some odd requests for treatment he’d received from folk who complained they were sexually attracted to people of their own gender.”

“You mean you can cure it?”

The intensity in Tevi’s voice stunned Jemeryl. A few seconds passed before she found her voice. “I don’t know. It would honestly never have occurred to me to try.”

“What did this other sorcerer do?”

“He suggested they move to the Protectorate, where it wouldn’t matter what sex their lovers were.”

Jemeryl anxiously awaited the response, but instead of a violent outburst, Tevi only looked puzzled. “Why would he say that?”

“Because it was true, and it still is. Having an exclusive preference for one gender is a bit unusual, but no one is going to get upset about it.”

Tevi stared in bewilderment.

Carefully Jemeryl asked, “You said you stayed with Sergo and her son, in their cottage. Who else lived there?”

“Her sister.”

“Who told you it was her sister?”

“Well, maybe not her sister, but she was a close relative. They...” Tevi’s words died.

Jemeryl held her breath, trying to guess which way Tevi’s reaction would go. She wished Bolitho’s report could give her more grounds to hope.

For a long while, only unspoken questions formed on Tevi’s lips, but at last she burst out, “But you can’t let the world run like that.”

“Why not?”

“You need a woman and a man to have children.”

“True, but were babies in short supply in Storenseg? Because the reverse problem is generally much more common. Even with potions to help prevent unintended pregnancies, most relationships in which the partners are of different sexes produce twice as many children as they’re able to care for. Families hope some of their members will settle with a partner of the same sex to provide homes for the rest. For example, Sergo’s son was born to her brother.”

“But it isn’t as...”

Tevi’s voice faded as a confused kaleidoscope of emotions chased across her face, yet inflamed moral outrage did not appear to be one. Jemeryl decided to risk a few further comments. “When you made your confession this afternoon, I couldn’t see why you thought it would upset me. What I now don’t understand is how you could have spent a year on the mainland without noticing the way Protectorate families operate. It defies belief—even with the problem you have telling men and women apart.”

“You’re being serious? It’s not part of—”

“Totally serious.”

“But what do...” Again, Tevi’s voice trailed away. She pressed one hand against her forehead. Her eyes would not meet Jemeryl’s, but for the first time they seemed to be fully focused on the room around her.

Despite Tevi’s obvious turmoil, Jemeryl was starting to relax. There were many other things they had to discuss, such as the quest, but they could wait. Better if Tevi had time to think, especially since there seemed a chance the islander might overturn her upbringing and reach a rational conclusion.