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

by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

  “Has this happened many times, that the Great Spirit has come to a woman?” Zena asked.

  “I have heard people in other tribes speak of it, but I do not know how many. The Leader travels to many places.”

  And so would she, Zena thought with stubborn intensity.

  The sudden noise of a twig snapping made them both jump. Instantly, Mara extinguished the light. For a time, there was no further noise; then they heard shuffling footsteps, as if a large creature was moving through the brush under the trees. Possibly it was a bear, Zena speculated, though she was not sure bears lived in these high mountains. More likely it was a moose or large elk. Moving cautiously, she poked her head out from beneath the heavy cover that blocked the entrance.

  The sound came again, and then the creature, whatever it was, came so close she could smell its rankness. She could see only a large dark shape and decided it must be a bear that had reared up on its hind legs, since it was also very tall. A moment later she thought it had dropped onto all fours, though it was hard to tell in the darkness. The shape disappeared into the trees.

  There were no more noises, but for a long time Zena and Mara dared not move, lest the creature be there still. Mara especially was terrified, though she tried not to show her fear. The noises had forced her to remember that terrible night and despite her effort to be sensible she began to shiver uncontrollably. Understanding her terror, Zena put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  Lief, hidden nearby in the trees, waited too. Though his eyes were well adapted to darkness, even he had been unable to identify the beast. He had not been able to hear the conversation, either, but he felt fear emanating from the hut. He would watch them with great care when they left.

  Finally Mara broke the silence. “We must go back,” she whispered. “I dare not speak more. Someone could be watching. Take my hand and follow.”

  Zena felt in the darkness for Mara’s hand and gripped it, trying to instill in the grip a bravery she did not feel. Holding tightly to each other, they crept out of the shelter and into the thick trees. There was no sound save for their own breathing, and they saw no movement anywhere except for the slow progress of their tense bodies.

  “It is better to separate now,” Mara whispered when they were close to the clearing. “You know your way from here?”

  “I know,” Zena answered. “I came this way.”

  Mara drew Zena behind a concealing tree. “Good-bye, my great friend,” she said, looking into Zena’s darkened face. “Take good care of my little one. And remember all I have told you. It might not be possible for us to speak again, but I will be watching and will help you if I can.”

  Impulsively, Zena reached out to hug Mara. “We will speak again many times,” she promised, with a confidence she was not entirely sure she felt. “I will remember all you have said, and will do my best to save this child. And do not fear. One day, you will be with Mara-Sun again.”

  Mara nodded. “I am certain it is so. Now I have hope; before there was none.”

  Someone coughed in the darkness, and they separated quickly. Zena watched Mara glide silently away and wished she could ask more questions. There was so much she still needed to know. Where had the Leader come from, and Korg? How long ago had Mara’s people begun to follow the Leader’s ways, and what did she think the creature they had heard could be? And who was the sister who had lost her child?

  The answer to that question came the next day, when she told Durak what she had learned from Mara.

  “Rofina!” he exclaimed, when Zena spoke of the child who had been taken from Mara’s sister. “Rofina is the sister of Mara. So that is what happened to her.” His face twisted in anguish as he thought of the suffering she must have endured.

  He told Zena of their meeting, of his strong feeling that he and Rofina belonged together. Zena was unsure what to say. She had never known Durak to react so intensely to a woman, and she believed him, but at the same time she was afraid for Rofina, who had already suffered so much. Still, Rofina clearly needed help, and Durak might be able to provide it.

  Sorlin joined them and Mara’s story was repeated in whispers. Later, when Hular and Lief came into the hut, Zena confided in them as well. She was worried about entrusting the information to so many, but if she was to fulfill her promise to Mara, she would need their help.

  “Do not speak of this aloud,” she warned them. “The people here must not know why I have come, or what I hope to do with your help.

  All of them promised caution, but Zena’s warning had come too late. The next day, they all noticed that people looked away from them instead of calling out a friendly greeting as they had before.

  “They must have heard us call you Zena, and they know that name,” Sorlin reported, and described a disturbing conversation she had overheard among the villagers. “One woman said that Mara and her mother cause nothing but trouble, and that the woman called Zena and the people with her would also cause trouble. The others agreed. They said that to hear the name Zena made people think of the old ways, and that was not good because the old ways had gone and they did not want to think of them any more.

  “Then a man said the Leader knew what was best for them,” Sorlin continued. “He sounded very certain, and they all agreed.”

  Hular looked at Sorlin in astonishment. “How did you manage to hear so much?”

  “I hid in some bushes near the place where they gather,” Sorlin answered with an impish grin. “After all, they must have done the same or they would not have known we are Mother People. Besides, Zena said to discover as much as we could.”

  “And so you did,” Zena answered, amused by her stalwart friend. Still, what Sorlin had heard was discouraging. To change these people again would not be easy!

  “If the villagers remember the name of Zena, it can’t be too long since they were Mother People,” she observed.

  Durak nodded. “I believe that Mara’s mother was their wise one then. I could feel it when I met her, even though she now looks old and afraid.”

  Zena nodded, remembering the woman who had traced the spiral sign of wisdom for her to see. She must be Mara’s mother, which explained why Mara knew so much of the Goddess. She wished she could ask the woman to tell her more of what had happened here, but she did not dare. As Mara had warned – and they had just learned - Korg had ears and eyes everywhere, and unless they were very careful, Mara and her mother would be singled out for punishment.

  “But now the villagers have different ways,” Hular said thoughtfully, “ways that seem wrong to us. To kill an infant is terrible, but at the same time I can understand why it might be done. Through the death of one child, a child too young to be afraid or understand, many lives could be saved, great suffering avoided.”

  “We do not know that,” Sorlin objected, her tone scathing. “I certainly do not believe bad things will happen unless a child is killed. Even the Mother cannot prevent storms and other disasters, though She often warns us with Her signals so we can prepare. And we cannot avoid all suffering or all difficulties in our lives.”

  “A child is a gift from the Mother,” Durak said slowly, “yet sometimes we help an infant to return to Her if the infant is maimed or suffering and cannot be cured. What is the difference?”

  “They are very different,” Lief answered in his deep, soft voice. “One is done because of love, the other from fear.”

  Zena looked at him, impressed once more. Unexpectedly, desire rose inside her, desire so strong that her legs began to tremble. She sat down suddenly, astonished. She had mated only a few times and the experiences had not been very satisfying. She had felt awkward; her body did not seem to know what to do, as if the impulses that seemed to come so easily and naturally to others were absent in her. But now; now she felt as if they must be there. They must be stronger than she had known, too.

  Color rose in her face. How could she think of Akat when they were talking of the possible death of a child? And she did not even know this
man, had barely spoken to him. Worse, she was almost certain he had seen her face redden and understood the reason.

  “You are right,” she said quickly, to cover her confusion.

  Another thought came to her, driving all thoughts of desire away. “And when this sacrifice is born of fear,” she said slowly, “it could build on itself, so that if a storm should come, or another disaster, more children would have to be given, then more and more and more...”

  She broke off, shuddering., as pictures of what might happen poured into her mind, of infants and children, some on the brink of adulthood who knew what was about to happen, struggling against their captors. One at a time they were pulled away from their stricken parents, brutally killed so that others could live, but then drought came, or floods or some terrible sickness, and still more had to die…

  She closed her eyes tightly to shut out the terrible images but they would not stop, and for a moment she felt faint.

  Lief knelt in front of her. “Will you drink this?” he said gently. “It is made from special grains that are fermented, and it will give you strength.”

  Zena took the tall cup and drank deeply of the warm liquid. “It is good,” she said gratefully. “I thank you.”

  “The people here make it,” he explained. “We must learn to make it ourselves. Too much, though, has a strange effect.”

  “What does it do?” Zena asked, glad to be distracted from her thoughts.

  Lief smiled. “It makes people act crazy,” he said. “They stumble and fall and cannot think properly.” He staggered around the clearing with a comical look on his face, demonstrating. “Sometimes they cannot walk by themselves and must be held up by their friends,” he added, and made them all laugh with a vivid description of the three people he had met on his travels to the south. He mentioned only the humor in the situation, not the man’s scarred face or the woman’s pale eyes or his own sense of unease, lest they upset Zena further.

  “Do not give her any more then,” Hular joked. “We need Zena to think well right now if she is to save this child.”

  The remark made them serious again, and Zena answered soberly. “You are right, except that I cannot save the child alone. It is a task for us all. Still, for all of us to go to the village where it is to be born might arouse suspicion. I will go first to see what I can learn while you finish the trading here, though perhaps one of you could come with me, whoever is not needed in the trading.”

  “I will come with you,” Lief said immediately. The determination in his voice was evident to all, and no one argued. Lief was a good choice anyway, since he had come as a guide more than as a trader and would be able to find the village better than any of them.

  Sorlin, who loved going to new places, sighed heavily. “I do not think I can come. I must get back to my young ones as soon as the trading is finished.”

  “Do not worry,” Hular assured her. “Durak and I will join Zena and Lief as soon as we are finished here. By that time Zena will know more.”

  “I hope I do,” Zena answered, feeling doubt rise again. She pushed it away and spoke without thinking. “There is a way to prevent this horror from coming to pass,” she said forcefully. “We have only to think of it, and then we will know what to do.”

  The words seemed to have burst out of her from a place she had not known, and she was astonished. So were the others. They had never heard Zena speak in such a forceful way before.

  Lief, however, was not surprised. It was as Larak had said: The power is there, waiting to be released. He wondered if Zena heard his thought for she gave him an odd look. Again, their eyes held; then she turned away, frowning a little. Her cheeks were very pink.

  Lief smiled to himself. The fire is there, too, Larak had warned. He hoped at least some of it would be directed at him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  The next day, Lief and Zena set out for the village Mara had mentioned. Lief was pleased that no one had questioned his decision to accompany Zena. He wanted badly to have time alone with her. They still had hardly spoken together, but the few words and looks they had exchanged had told him that they understood each other well. He was also certain now that Zena was as attracted to him as he was to her. The flush in her cheeks and the tautness of her mouth told him that. Still, he must be patient. When the right moment came, he would know.

  Zena’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I do not know where this village is, only that we must go west to find it,” she explained as they climbed the steep slope above Mara’s village. Her voice sounded strained and self-conscious even to her own ears, and she was irritated with herself. Whatever was the matter with her?

  “I think I know where the village is located, though I have not been there before,” Lief answered pleasantly. He wished he could help her relax in his presence, but perhaps that was impossible. The tension between them was fierce and strong and until it found an outlet, it would continue to plague them. The thought made him stiffen with desire.

  Zena sensed that he was trying to help her and her irritation at herself increased. She had to stop behaving like a nervous child. Even more, she had to concentrate on the task before her and not let her attraction to Lief distract her.

  “I do not know when this child will be born, either, except that it is soon,” she went on determinedly. “We are constantly watched, so Mara and I have not been able to speak again.”

  “I, too, have been watching,” Lief answered dryly. He wondered if she was aware that a good part of his watching was devoted to her. Her reply told him she was not.

  “I as well,” she admitted, “but I think your eyes are sharper than mine. Tell me what you have observed.”

  “Or I am less watched than you,” Lief corrected with a smile. “I have seen that the Leader and Korg are preparing for a journey, perhaps to the same village we seek,” he went on more seriously. “I have seen that there is an understanding between them that I cannot grasp, that Korg controls the Leader in some way, even as the Leader seems to be in charge, believes himself to be in charge. What this means, I do not know.”

  Zena nodded. “I think you are right. It is as if Korg makes it possible for the Leader to speak as he does, to influence the people. But how does he do this?”

  “That is what we must discover,” Lief answered.

  They were quiet then, saving their breath for the steep climb. High peaks tipped with snow rose on either side of them, glittering in the sun; here, in the meadows enclosed by the mountains, the greenness of grass and bushes predominated, and the pervasive scent of flowers. A string of small lakes, milky turquoise from the glaciers that fed them, dotted the slope; above them small swift birds, as blue as the lakes themselves, swooped and darted fearlessly.

  When they reached the last lake they stopped to drink, and the water was so cold they had to warm it in their hands before their throats could swallow it. They went on, over the next pass, breathing hard but hardly aware of their exertions, so magnificent was the scene. Zena thought she could go on forever in such a place, where there was so much peace and beauty. She suspected Lief must feel the same, for his eyes roamed ceaselessly over the landscape, and there was a look of total contentment in his face. She felt the contentment come into her as well, and some of the tension left her body.

  Another, higher pass loomed ahead. They sat for a moment to rest on the soft moss between the rocks, and watched a huge bird settle on a nearby boulder. Its fierce yellow eyes stared at them, unblinking, as it arched its head to preen its feathers. Then, with a loud rush of wide-swept wings, it took to the air again. Higher and higher it rose, soaring in ever-widening circles until it disappeared from sight.

  Zena sighed. “I would like to do that,” she commented, “to fly far above the land, to see all that is below me and to soar into the clouds.”

  “One day perhaps it will be possible,” Lief answered, to her surprise. “After all, if a bird can fly, why can we not learn how to do it as well?”

  “We have no wi
ngs, no feathers,” Zena objected.

  Lief laughed. “That is true, but even if we did they might not help, as I discovered. Once, when I was a child, I came across a bird like the one we saw. It was dead, and only the wings were left. I attached them to my arms with resin and strong ropes and jumped from a high rock.”

  “What happened?” she asked him, eager as a child to know. Lief looked at her upturned face. She is all right now, he thought, relieved. He looked a moment longer, wanting to know every curve of her face.

  “I fell,” he answered, laughing again. “But I still think it might be possible,” he added with a serious note in his voice. “I must just understand better how to do it.”

  Zena smiled, thinking of the small boy with wings attached to his arms. It was an appealing image. “I think you were very brave,” she said. “And clever, to think of such a project.”

  “Just curious,” Lief answered. “I have always been curious about everything. Many times, my mother told me she was afraid for me because I was so curious.”

  “I think it is a good way to be,” Zena answered, defending him.

  Lief did not answer, but his dark eyes expressed appreciation. Except they were not really dark, Zena saw, looking more closely, but a blue so dark it looked almost black. Nor was his face guarded as it often seemed to be. Was that because he felt at ease with her even if she did not with him?

  The desire for him that she had tried to ignore all through the journey returned, even stronger now, and she felt her face flush. She turned away, angry at the fair skin that made her emotions impossible to hide. She always blushed - when she was angry or embarrassed or anything else, and it was annoying!