Deerskin - Robin McKinley

LISSAR HEARD THE PAUSE, AFTER THAT, WHEN ANYONE CALLED

HER by the name she had given first to Lilac, Deerskin; and she could no longer refuse to recognize the whispers: Moonwoman. It was Ossin she asked, finally, wanting to know the story that others had given her, but not liking to ask anyone she suspected of calling her so. Even Lilac, straightforward as ever in all other ways, had a new secret in her eyes when she looked at her friend. Lissar wished she did not have to ask him; but he was the only one who still named her Deerskin without an echo, who still met her eyes easily-as, it occurred to her, she met his. Even his kennel folk, who had learned not to call him "your greatness," never quite forgot that he was their prince. Lissar wondered at herself, for she was ... only an herbalist's apprentice.

"You don't have stories of the Moonwoman where you're from?" Ossin said in surprise. "She's one of our favorite legends. I was in love with her"-he was grooming Aster as he spoke; Aster was standing rigidly still in the ecstasy of the attention-"when I was a boy, her and her coursing hounds.

"The story goes that she was the daughter of the strongest king in the world, and that all the other kings sought her hand in marriage." The most beautiful woman in seven kingdoms drifted across Lissar's mind, but she could not remember where it came from, and she did not like the taste of it on her tongue.

"All the other kings sought her hand in marriage because the man who married her would become the strongest king in the world himself by inheriting her father's kingdom. Not a country," he added, rubbing Aster's hindquarters with a soft brush,

"who believed in strong queens. My mother liked to point this out," he said, smiling reminiscently, "which annoyed me no end when I was still young, why did she have to go spoiling the story with irrelevancies? Anyway, this princess did not like any of the kings and princes and dukes who presented themselves to her, all of them looking through her to her father's throne, and she declared she would have none of them.

"She further declared that she would give up her position as royal daughter, and that her father could choose his heir without her help, without her body as intermediary; and she and her fteethound set off to find-the story doesn't say what she wanted to find, the meaning of life, one supposes, something of that sort.

"But one of the suitors followed her, and forced himself on her, thinking-who knows what a man like that thinks-thinking that perhaps what the girl needed was to understand that she could be taken by a strong man, or that rape would break her spirit, make her do what she was told.... She was beautiful, you see, so her attraction was not only through what her father would give her husband. And thinking also, perhaps, that her father would admire the strong commanding action of another strong man, like a general outflanking an opposing army by one daring stroke; or even that his daughter's intransigence was a kind of challenge to her suitors.

"But it did not turn out quite as he had hoped, for the princess herself hated and reviled him for his action, and returned to her father's court to denounce him. But in that then she was disappointed, and her father and his court's reaction was not all that she wishedsome versions of the story say that her attacker did in fact follow her father on the throne; even that her father told her that she deserved no better for rejecting her suitors and running away from her responsibilities.

"Whatever the confrontation was, it ended by her saying that she did not wish to live in this world any more, this world ruled by her father and the other kings who saw it as he did.

"And so she fled to the Moon, and lived there, alone with her dog, who soon gave birth to puppies. And because of what happened to her-and because of her delight in her bitch's puppies-she watches out for young creatures, particularly those who are alone, who are hurt or betrayed, or who wish to make a choice for themselves instead of for those around them. And sometimes she flies down from the Moon with her dogs, and rescues a child or a nestling. Or a litter of puppies. The story goes that she has, over the years, become much like the Moon herself: either all-seeing or blind, sometimes radiant, sometimes invisible."

He paused, and his brushing hand paused too. Aster stood motionless, hoping that he would forget how much brushing she'd had already, and begin again. But he laughed, picking her up gently from the grooming table and setting her on the ground. She looked up at him sadly and then wandered off. "There's another bit to the story that occasionally is repeated: that our Moonwoman is still seeking a man to love her, that she would bear children as her dog, her best friend, did."

He looked at Lissar and smiled. "I liked that very much when I was younger and tenderer: I thought perhaps she'd marry me-after all, we both love dogs, and the Moonwoman's hounds are fleethounds, or something very much like them. Then I got a little older and recognized that I'm only the stodgy prince of a rather small, second-class country, that produces grain and goods enough to feed and clothe itself, and not much else, and that neither I nor my country is much to look at besides. We're both rather dullish and brownish. I don't suppose my choices are any more limited than the handsome prince of a bigger, more powerful country's are; but I fancy that the princesses of first-rate countries are more interesting. Perhaps the duchesses and princesses of small second-class countries say the same about me....

I lost my hope for Moonwoman about the same time as I recognized the other. I was lucky, I suppose; if there had been any overlap it would have been a hard burden to bear.... I was tender for a rather longer time than most, l think.

"I'm sorry," he said, after a pause, while he watched her brushing Ash. He had groomed three dogs, while she went on working at Ash. Ash had her own special comb for tangles and mats, specially procured by Ossin, and hung on the grooming-wall with all the soft brushes; its teeth looked quite fierce in such company. "I'm sorry to go on so. I've been thinking . . . about myself, I suppose, because there's to be another ball, ten days from now, and I am to meet the princess Trivelda. Again. We met five years ago and didn't like each other then; I don't imagine anything will have changed." He sighed. "Trivelda' s father runs what might charitably be called a rather large farm, south and west of us, and most of his revenues, I believe, go for yard goods for Trivelda's dresses. She would not stoop to me if she had any better chances; she thinks hunting hounds are dirty and smell bad."

"Probably many ladies from the grandest courts think the same," said Lissar, with a strong inner conviction of the truth of her words.

"Probably ... I find myself determined to think the worst of my ... likely fate. It's a weakness of character, I dare say. If I were a livelier specimen I would go out and find a Great Dragon to slay, and win a really desirable princess; I believe that's the way to do it. But there haven't been any Great Dragons since Maur, I think, and Aerin, who was certainly a highly desirable princess, didn't need any help, and the truth is I'm very glad that all happened a long time. ago and very far away. You're smiling."

"Must you marry a princess? Can't you marry some great strapping country girl who rides mighty chargers bareback and can whistle so loudly she calls the whole country's dogs at once?"

Ossin laughed. "I don't know. If I met her perhaps I could rouse myself for argument. I think my mother would understand, and my father would listen to her.

But I haven't met her. And so they keep presenting me with princesses. Hopefully."

"It is only one evening, this ball."