ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) (4 page)

He waited until almost all the Mother People had arrived before he left his perch on the rock and joined them. To his relief, they welcomed him with great friendliness and seemed eager to answer his questions. The woman with the long red-gold hair was called
Zena
, they told him, and she would one day be the leader of the Mother People, the one who conducted their ceremonies and spoke for the Goddess, as her mother had been before her, and her mother before that. She would not do it this year, they explained, but
w
hen she was older and had recovered a little from the grief of losing her
twin
sister, who had been like a part of herself
.

That explained her sadness, Lief realized, and the fact that she would one day be
the leader of her
people explained the air of authority that sat so uneasily on her young shoulders. He watched her with even greater interest after that, but he still made no effort to meet her. He was as puzzled by his reticence as he was by his continuing interest. Normally, he was not shy with women. He told himself that it was because he had never before known a woman with such a serious purpose in life, but he did not think that was right.

Late the next day, the ceremonies began. Lief watched in fascination as the Mother People gathered in the circle of stones they had created to speak to their Goddess, the Great Mother as they also called her. They seemed so happy, so eager to speak to this Goddess, and he could understand why it was so. She seemed a fine spirit to him, not one who threatened and made rules like the Great Spirit invoked by the new leader, but one who listened with compassion and supported those who worshiped her. Lief was not sure if he believed in any of these spirits, but he still found this one appealing. No one was afraid of her as the northern people were of their spirits, and the ceremonies that honored her were full of dancing and singing and laughter, as well as thanks for the past summer’s riches. The last evening was especially impressive, though it was more serious. His breath caught in his throat as the long line of women and men and children, each carrying a lighted torch, threaded their way through the imposing rocks in the darkness while their wise woman called down the Goddess. It seemed to him that even he could feel the presence of her spirit, and he was comforted.

When the ceremonies were finished the revelry began, as he had hoped. Couples embraced behind sheltering rocks while the children danced and played games and the old ones watched, smiling. Lief found a few partners too, but his heart was not in the encounters. He was irritated with himself, and astonished. Never before had he acted like this. What was the matter with him? All he could see in his mind was the sad woman with the long red hair, and all he could think was that she was important to him in some way he could not imagine. He continued to watch her and to wonder about his feelings, but he still did not try to meet her. It was as if something inside him told him the time was not yet right, that he must watch and wait.

The Mother People began the long journey back to their homes
soon
after the ceremonies
were over.
Most lived to the south and west, but some had moved back to the foothills of the mountains
.
Zena
’s tribe was one of these, Lief was told. The knowledge pleased him. Perhaps she loved the mountains as he did. Then he was irritated with himself again. Since he did not even know her, what did that matter?

He watched them go and went on his way, determined to finish his explorations. For another cycle of the moon he followed the coast through verdant countryside where people spoke in a tongue he could not understand, and ventured into villages where the inhabitants lived entirely from the bounty of the sea. After that, he came to deep forests teeming with animals and birds and emerged once more into coastal lands that stretched away to the great water beyond. He studied his surroundings with his usual attention, but even as he watched the movements of a bird or a child, an image of the red-haired woman hovered just before his eyes, and even as he raised his arms to aim his slingshot or bow at an animal when he needed food, thoughts of her interrupted the gesture. Finally, after two more cycles of the moon had passed and she still remained in his mind and heart, Lief gave in. Turning north again, he set off to find her.

 

CHAPTER T
HREE

Deep in the bushes where she had hidden, Mara wept in silence. She was glad they
had not
found her, but
it
had taken
all the courage she possessed not to leap out and pull h
er crying child
against her breast
.
To watch him disappear
had been
s
o much harder than she had
imagined. The tears came faster, but
Mara
choked back the sobs that
wanted
to come with them, lest she be heard. Not until the small group was out of
hearing
did she let the
m
emerge. The
sobs
tore through her body then, wrenching it back and forth in spasms more painful even than birth. When finally it seemed that nothing more was left inside her, she
heaved
a great sigh and pulled herself out of the bushes. The woman,
Zena
, had understood
the signs
. Her baby would live, and that was all that mattered.

Truly, her mother had been right. She had always insisted that the Great Mother, the Goddess, was the only one they should worship, had taught Mara and her sister the symbols, although to do so was dangerous. Before, Mara
had not
been sure the Goddess existed except in her mother

s mind. Now she knew her mother

s words
must be
true. Otherwise, how was it possible that
Zena
had been sent to her
?
The ones called
Zena
were special, closer to the Goddess than others, her mother had said, and that
Zena
herself had come to help was clearly a sign.

Mara straightened her shoulders  as she trudged along the path. From this moment on, she resolved, she would believe in the Great Mother
. Had She not
come to her when she was desperate
and
found a way for her baby to live
?
Her son would believe as well. That
at
least
she had
been able to give him.

Would she ever see him again? The thought took
Mara
’s
courage away and she pushed it from her. This, too, she would leave to the Goddess. For now, her only task was to return to her mother and her sister, Rofina, and make sure they were all right. She had been away too long already. Anything could have happened.

As the day wore on she moved more and more slowly, forcing herself to take one more step and then another. Blood dripped from her, but she ignored it. Each time she came to a stream she washed her
self
, but she
did not
stop long enough to make a pad of soft grasses or even to stuff grasses into her boots to relieve her weary feet. Her body felt too torn, her breasts too sore, to care. Milk kept building up in them; with no baby to suck it away, the pain
was
becom
ing
almost intolerable.

When
night came
, Mara curled up in a depression in the earth and hoped no predator would smell the blood
and milk an
d find her. She slept fitfully, shivering with cold and
groaning with
the pain of her breasts. She was almost surprised to find that she was
still
alive when the light came again. Perhaps the Goddess was watching over her. The thought was comforting.

She pulled herself up, aware that she was very cold. Walking would warm her at least. She had left her furs with the infant to
keep him warm
.
Infants needed to be well covered, the women had told her. Their tiny bodies were accustomed to the warmth of the womb and were not yet ready to warm themselves.

Later, the coldness left her and she began to sweat, not from the warmth of the day, she thought, but perhaps from a fever of some kind. She decided to ignore the sick feeling inside her and save the herbs she had brought, in case she became worse later. By nightfall, she sensed she should take something, but it was hard now to remember what that was. Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a small bundle of herbs and stared at them. Was this what she needed? She would chew them anyway.

She wandered on. Where was she, and why was she traveling here? She
could not
seem to remember this, either. The infant
’s
face swam into her mind. He was the reason, she thought, but then she forgot him
again
in the effort to keep walking
. She had come to a steep ridge, and wondered if she should go up it. But then it was too dark anyway and she dropped where she stood.

Light crept back many hours later and Mara stirred. There was somewhere she must go. She hauled herself up and walked on. Her breasts were swollen hard now, so painful that each step was agony. An image came into her mind, of a woman with huge swollen breasts like her own. Where had she seen this woman? Perhaps it
did not
matter. To know the woman existed was enough. If she could survive with breasts like that, then so could Mara.

She sighed and lay down to rest. When she rose again, she saw a strange sight. A child was backing fearfully away from her, his hand clasped over his mouth. Mara tried to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she took a step toward the child. He turned and ran. Mara watched him, puzzled; then she slumped to the ground. Later perhaps, she would walk some more.

When she opened her eyes again she was lying on her own pallet and her mother, Runor, was bending over her. The tent was in darkness, save for a small circle of light cast by the lamp. Her mother

s face was haggard, full of fear, and on her head was the hated covering, the one all women were required to wear. She
did not
speak. Mara stared into her eyes, trying to understand the reason for her fear, for the head covering, which she normally
did not
wear in the hut. Had they finally dared to punish her?

The tall figure of the Leader detached itself from the darkness of the entrance and came toward her. His kindly face was full of concern.

Mara, we have been worried!

he rebuked her gently.

You should not have stayed away so long!

A shadowy form moved behind the Leader. Mara
could not
see him but she knew instantly who he was. Korg. She shrank back against the bedding. So that was why her mother was afraid, why she wore the covering.

Mara licked her lips nervously, trying to think how to respond to the Leader, and even more to the shadowy figure behind him. They had agreed she would say she had gone to visit her mother
’s
sister in another tribe. Young people often did this before taking on the responsibilities of full adulthood. That her mother
had no
sister, no one knew. Or did they? Rofina might have told them, not understanding.

Her mother saved her from answering.

Mara is still weak and cannot speak,

she said firmly.

Even I am not yet sure what
happened to her.

The Leader nodded.

Rest well, Mara,

he said. Behind him, Korg said nothing, but Mara thought his eyes rested on her speculatively before he turned to leave.

The sound of their footsteps died away, and
Runor’s
face relaxed. She pulled off the black headscarf and cast it aside with a contemptuous gesture.


I am glad to see your eyes open,

she commented. Her voice shook despite her attempt to sound normal.

Have you the strength to speak?

Mara saw the question in her mother
’s
eyes, and motioned her to come close so she could whisper. The men had gone, but they must still be very careful.


The baby is all right,

she whispered into Runor
’s
ear.

It is a boy, and he is all right. He is with the one called
Zena
. She will care for him.

Her mother

s eyes widened in amazement.

Zena
? You have spoken
to
the one called
Zena
?

For the first time in
years, Mara saw a glimmer of hope come into Runor

s lined face.

“S
he helped me. The Mother Herself helped me, will help the little one,

Mara answered. She tried to say more, but weakness overcame her and she had to stop.
There was no need anyway. Her mother
understood
instantly
.


It is enough to know that,

she said, and now her eyes were filled with radiance.

When you are stronger you can tell me more. It is good, so very good, to know that the Great Mother is with us, after all.

She stood still for a long moment, staring into space as if trying to absorb this momentous news; then she roused herself and began to mix a potion.


Drink this,

she went on, holding a cup to Mara

s lips.

It will help the pain in your breasts. Later I will try to bring a little one for you to suckle, but no one must know.

Mara drank obediently and after a while she thought the pain did decrease. She started suddenly.

Rofina?

she asked.


The Leader cares for her still,

Runor
answered, and Mara heard the grimness in her voice.

But she is content.
Perhaps that is all we can hope for.

Mara nodded
wearily and felt a sensation of heaviness descend on her, about her sister Rofina, about her child, about her tribe. Then the weariness overcame her and her
eyes closed. Later, she woke again, hearing voices. Rofina was speaking to their mother. When she saw Mara
’s
eyes open, Rofina came to kneel beside her.


You are better, Mara?

Though she had been born many
cycles of the
seasons before Mara, Rofina
’s
voice had a child-like quality. Her face had the look of a child as well. It had not always been so, Mara thought, and the familiar anger filled her
, replacing the heaviness she had felt before
. She pushed
the anger
away. Anger would not help Rofina.


I am better,

she answered.

It was a long journey.

Rofina smiled
a response
, but the smile did not reach her eyes. They were empty of all emotion, had been empty ever since that terrible night when her child had been taken from her and killed. From that, she would never recover.

Rofina stood again. She was tall, slender as a young tree, and her long oval face was smooth, unmarked by pain, save for the deep shadows that sometimes appeared beneath her
once-
luminous eyes. She was well loved by all, especially by the Leader. He had taken her as his daughter after that time and was very kind to her, and now Rofina would not leave him. But was she only his daughter? Mara could only guess. The Leader spoke to Rofina as if that were true, and he
did not
require her to wear the headscarf
like other women,
but even he
could not
fail to see that she had the body of a woman, not a girl. Would Rofina understand what was happening
if he took her as
his
mate? And what would happen to her if another child should come? And what of Korg? What was his relationship with Rofina?

Mara
shuddered. She
did not
trust Korg. The Leader was kind, but Korg…

Rofina

s voice interrupted.

I will go back now,

she said quietly. Mara watched her glide gracefully across the tent and out the entrance. Rofina always became nervous if she was too long away from the Leader. Only in his presence did she seem to feel safe.

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