This must have been an ancient way of making sure they were not invaded by men in disguise. I’ll bet there was a time -when the candidate-or the intruder-had to strip herself bare, head to foot. She bit her lip hard to keep from breaking into nervous laughter-or tears. I feel like a horse in the market!
When every one of the women had looked her over, Jaelle said, “Have we all verified that this is in truth a woman, and not a man come in disguise to mock us? If there are any doubts we shall have this one stripped naked; any of you has the right to demand it.” Magda was no longer able to be elated at this verification of her guess; she stood shivering, her eyes cast down. But no one demanded it, and Jaelle nodded.
“So be it; we accept you as a woman. Now, – you have cut your hair and come among us of your free will; so I call upon you to repeat the oath given in the days of Varzil the Good, to the Guild of Free Amazons, in accordance with the Charter kept at Nevarsin. In the presence of these witnesses, repeat after me: From this day forth I renounce the right to marry save as a freemate. No man shall bind me di catenas and I will dwell in no man’s household as a barragana.”
Stumbling over the words, Jaelle prompting her at intervals, Magda repeated the words. No man shall bind me . . .” Nothing, she thought, is less likely than that I should ever want-or any Terran-born woman should be allowed-to marry di catenas, by the old religious ritual. And a barragana is simply a kept woman, a concubine.
“I swear that I am prepared to defend myself by force if I am attacked by force, and that I shall turn to no man for protection.”
Magda repeated the words; again, feeling that she was actually disintegrating. Two of me-the Terran Magda, the Darkovan Margali-and they’re breaking apart! Who am I? Who will I be after this?
“… Turn to no … no man for protection….”
I’ve been taught to defend myself since I was sixteen years old. On any other world I would have been doing it all along. Here I was sheltered, and when I finally had to try, I couldn’t. Without Jaelle’s band I’d have been beaten up and probably gang-raped. I might have survived it-people do-but it would have been a hell of a thing to live with!
“From this day forth I swear I shall never again be known by the name of any man, T>e he father, guardian, lover or husband, but simply and solely as-” Jaelle broke off. “What was your mother’s name?”
Magda rummaged wildly in her mind for the Darkovan equivalent of “Elizabeth.” What’s wrong with me? I heard it often enough, fm disintegrating! She said, after a perceptible pause, “Ysabet.”
“… As Margali nikhya mic Ysabet,” said Jaelle, speaking the words in full without the common abbreviation, and Magda repeated them, biting her lip, fighting for self-control. Nothing so far in the oath had troubled or frightened her, but this did. Known only as Margali n’ha Ysabet. Oh, Dad, do I have to give up your name, too? I didn’t mind giving up Peter’s, when we separated. But you, Dad, do I have to renounce you, too? The face of David Lome, graying, gentle, scholarly, seemed to swim in her mind, to shake his head at her in reproach. Oh, God, Peter, are you worth this? Margali n’ha Ysabet . . . Magdalen, daughter of Elizabeth. No more than that?
“From this day forth I swear I will give myself to no man save in my own time and season and of my own free will, at my own desire; I will never earn my bread as the object of any man’s lust.”
Well, no woman in her right mind would object to swearing an oath not to become a prostitute. Then she suddenly felt troubled. If a woman had no occupation of her own, that could also mean-a wife?
“From this day forth I swear I will bear no child to any man save for my own pleasure and at my own time and choice; I will bear no child to any man for house or heritage, clan or inheritance, pride or posterity; I swear that I alone will determine rearing and fosterage of any child I bear, without regard to any man’s place, position or pride….”