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

by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

  He thrust the thought away. It seemed disloyal. And yet…

  Durak stopped thinking. One day perhaps he would understand. Now, he could not. Always keeping his eye on the woman and her child, he searched the area for more firewood, set a snare a short distance away and tried to think what else he could find for them to eat. There might be late berries, or tubers. He should dig them up before the ground froze. He knew already where some were buried because he had searched the area when he had been here with Runor and Rofina. That was fortunate.

  When Pila awoke some hours later, it was to the smell of roasting hare. Durak smiled at her and handed her some cooked tubers. She took them gratefully, and he saw that her eyes kept returning to his face, as if she were trying to understand something about him. Perhaps, somewhere deep inside, she did know him.

  She was not shivering any more, he saw, and he was relieved. Perhaps the potions had not done to her what they had done to Rofina.

  The night passed and part of the next morning. To Durak’s relief, the snow stopped and thin sun lit up the peaks above them so that they glittered with their frosty covering. It was a glorious sight. Durak watched for a time; then he rose to search for more food. Pila seemed less fearful now, and he decided to venture further, to the shore of the lake where he knew more tubers grew and there might even be shellfish.

  He had bent down to dig when movement startled him. Coming over the pass were three people, two women and a short, stocky man with a dark hood over his head. He was the thickest man Durak had ever seen, with arms and legs like huge trees. One of the women was big too, though the other was slight. Both wore headscarves. The largest woman seemed ill and could hardly hold herself up. The others supported her and trudged along as best they could.

  Durak started toward them to see if he could help but changed his mind before they could see him. These were just like the three travelers Lief had described. How strange. Or perhaps it was not; perhaps the three lived in this area. Still, he ducked behind a concealing bush as Lief had, aware that he was uneasy. Lief’s story had been amusing, but he remembered that it had made him uneasy then too, despite the humor. Something had seemed wrong to him in Lief’s description, something he could not understand.

  Another movement brought fear into his heart. Pila – she was running, silent as a deer down the rocky slope away from the three people. She was running fast, too fast for the rock strewn slope. She would harm herself…

  Keeping the shoulder of a hill between him and the travelers so they would not see him, Durak ran after her. He had almost reached her when he saw her fall heavily, then she rolled over and over and lay still. The infant was still, too. Had she fallen on it?

  Durak’s heart beat hard with fear, but to his relief Pila was conscious. She stared up at him in terror and again that frantic determination; then she uttered a moan and bent to look at her child. It blinked up at her and pursed its lips as if to suckle. She pulled the baby close and pressed her cold lips against its head.

  Durak crouched down beside her. “The baby is all right,” he soothed her. “And I will not let them harm you.”

  They stayed perfectly still for a time, then Durak peered cautiously over the hill. The travelers were out of sight, but that did not mean they had gone, especially if they lived in the area. He decided not to mention that thought to Pila. She was frightened enough already.

  “They have gone,” he assured her. “They did not see us.”

  “He was the one,” Pila accused, looking up at him with tormented eyes. There was terror in her voice, but anger, too. “I know he was the one; he took me…” Crumpling back against the ground, she began to shiver violently again. “He could come again, find me…”

  “Then we will find a safe place nearby to hide,” Durak told her stoutly, wishing he could take her to his village. There, they really would be safe.

  He realized suddenly what she had said. He had taken her. That meant it had been the man in the group. Who was he?

  “Yes,” Pila agreed, her voice still high with fear and shock. “We must find a safe place to hide.” Durak helped her to her feet but she winced in pain when she tried to walk. “I have hurt my ankle,” she wailed, and Durak saw tears form in her dark eyes. Then, with a surge of courage, she put the foot against the ground and took a slow step. “I must walk,” she said, gritting her teeth against the pain and taking another step. “I must get away from them, get the baby away. They could take me back there, take him again…”

  “The travelers have left,” he repeated, “and they did not see us. They do not know we are here.” He smiled at her reassuringly, but his mind raced. How was he to fulfill his promise to find a safe place? They could not stay out in the open. Anyone passing by would see them. Besides, it was too cold.

  Inspiration suddenly struck - the old shepherd’s hut he and Runor had used when they had tried to wean Rofina from the poppies. That would be perfect. He could not carry Pila all the way to his own village even if she agreed to go there, but he could carry her to the hut, or at least help her to hobble to it. It was in the trees just below, invisible from the path in either direction.

  “I know of an old hut near here. We can go there,” he said enthusiastically, pleased with the solution. “We can be there until your ankle is all right and stay as long as we like. I lived there for a time, long ago. The hut is rough, but we can have a fire and be sheltered from the wind. No one will see us there, not even those who go over the pass. Does that not sound good?”

  Pila nodded. “That will be fine,” she said faintly. Her face was very pale but composed again now. He knelt to examine her ankle quickly before they started off again and thought that it was not broken, only sprained. Still, a bad sprain could take even longer to heal. Already, the ankle was very swollen. It must be extremely painful.

  “We will wrap it in cold mosses,” he told her, trying to sound as if he knew what to do for sprains. It was just as well that he had spent so much time in Sorlin’s company, he reflected. All he knew of healing had come from her.

  Pila hobbled to the hut with a determined courage that reminded him of Teran. Nothing had ever stopped Teran from doing what she thought she must do, he remembered. That was good. They had not destroyed her utterly, as they had destroyed Rofina.

  “You remind me of someone I once knew,” he told her as she limped along. ‘she too was very determined when she decided she must do something that was hard.”

  Pila smiled at him, grateful for his encouragement, but he was not sure she thought about his words. She had suffered too much, he thought, to pay attention to what might have happened before. Later perhaps, he would be able to help her remember.

  The hut had the cold and musty smell of long emptiness, as well as memories of Rofina. Durak ignored both and got busy building a fire in the small fireplace he had constructed during his last visit. There was plenty of dry wood left over and soon the fire crackled, banishing the feeling of cold and emptiness. He made a kind of nest near the fire from some old furs that had been left there too, and settled Pila in it.

  “I will run back for the furs and other things we need. Do not worry; the travelers are far from here now and I do not think anyone else will come. I will be back very fast, too.”

  When he returned, with cold mosses as well as the items left on the hillside, he was relieved to see that Pila was almost asleep. He thought she had been keeping her eyes open only with an effort until his return.

  “I will put the cold mosses on your ankle and then you must sleep again,” he told her. “Or you can sleep at the same time if you are able to with such a cold ankle,” he joked.

  Pila did not laugh but she did smile, a wider smile than he had seen before, and Durak was pleased. He would tell her stories about his village and the people, and all that had happened to them, he decided, while her ankle healed. Perhaps then she would be willing to go there.

  Pila’s ankle slowly healed, but by that time there was so much snow that Du
rak knew they could not go to his village. It was a long hard journey that took them across more passes. In deep snow that was foolhardy, if not impossible. They would probably die in the attempt.

  They would have to wait until spring, he realized, and once the decision was made he ceased to worry about it. Nor did he think again of going into the lake. He was needed here. He could not go into the lake until he had brought Pila back to Zena. That would be wrong. Besides, Pila needed him to protect her. If the travelers they had seen lived in this area, they could come back at any time. It was a horrifying thought. The man was especially frightening. He looked extremely strong, with arms that could crush even the strongest adversary.

  There was no further sign of the travelers, and as the days and then the weeks passed, Durak slowly began to relax. So did Pila. Her wariness disappeared and she seemed genuinely glad to be with him. Each time he returned to the hut after one of his forays for food, she looked up eagerly and smiled a greeting, and once her ankle improved she began to go out with him on bright days. Her cheerful face brought a glow of satisfaction Durak had never experienced before, and he relished it. Already, he realized, he and Pila were completely comfortable together, as if they had known each other forever, and he supposed they had even if Pila did not remember. Each night, he told stories about their village and the people in it, and Pila listened avidly. It was as if she knew all about what he was saying but at the same time did not know she knew. One day he was certain she would remember. In the meantime, they were content.

  If he really thought about it, Durak realized, he felt at peace for the first time since Rofina’s death. Mostly, though, he thought only of today and the pleasure it would bring. For the moment, that was enough.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The winter months passed quietly, and the problems Lief and Zena had faced with Korg and the Leader began to seem very far away. Lief spent many peaceful hours in the woods observing animals, occasionally taking one for food, while Zena spoke with Larak or climbed to her Kyrie, which was where she felt most at peace. Their joy in being together during the long evenings and nights was boundless, and they wished they could live this way forever.

  Then, with the coming of spring, their peace was shattered with a jolt. One morning Zena sat looking at the high pass beyond her Kyrie, wondering if she and Lief could one day climb over it. Sun sparkling on the ice hurt her eyes, and she turned to look toward the valley below. The edge of the village was visible from her high perch, as was a long section of the path between Runor’s village and her own.

  As she watched, a figure emerged from the trees and came onto the path. Zena’s breath caught in her throat. Korg; the figure had to be Korg, No other man walked with that springing stride. Abruptly, his steps slowed. Eyes on the ground, he went back and forth along the path, peering nervously into the woods on both sides. His movements were furtive now, as if he was afraid of being seen. Raising his head, he stared in her direction for a long time. Then he turned and strode rapidly along the path toward Runor’s village.

  Zena felt a prickle of fear. Why had Korg acted so strangely and why was he going to Runor’s village? Whatever his reasons, they could not be good…

  Without warning, her fright crystallized into an overwhelming sense that Runor was in danger. Running down the steep hillside, she burst into the village.

  “I must go to Runor!” she called out breathlessly to Lief. “I saw Korg, from above, in my Kyrie. He was on the path, heading for her village.”

  “You are afraid for Runor,” Lief stated, and felt the fear invade him, too.

  “I must go to her right away,” Zena answered, and ran to the hut to gather supplies for the trip. Lief helped her in silence, then he went to tell Larak of their plans. Feeling unaccountably afraid herself, Larak followed him back to the hut. Zena already had her pack on her back, the supplies stuffed into it.

  “I will look after her,” Lief promised, correctly interpreting Larak’s alarmed face. “I have never seen her like this before,” he added as Zena ran back to the hut to get something she had forgotten. “It is as if she knows something I do not know.”

  “She does,” Larak agreed soberly. “That is always the way with those who speak for the Mother. I feel it often myself. I feel it now, a terrible apprehension, only I do not yet know from where it comes.” She sighed. “The Mother will tell us, but She does not always speak when we wish Her to. If only we knew now…”

  “I thank you, Lief, for all you do for Zena,” she interrupted herself, and saw his eyes light up with pleasure at her regard. The next instant, anxiety filled his face again. Giving Larak a brief, bleak smile, he ran to help Zena finish the packing. Their time of peace was over.

  Within moments, he and Zena were on the path that led to Runor’s village. Larak watched them, her heart heavy. Runor might be in danger, but she felt strongly that Zena was, too. If only she knew why.

  “Please, dear Mother,” she said aloud. “Do not keep me in suspense. I must know, for only then can I act.”

  Lief and Zena moved fast, and by the second day they arrived on the high ridge overlooking Runor’s village. Driven by urgency, they greeted the villagers quickly and then went straight to Runor’s hut. To their astonishment, they found the old wise woman dozing peacefully in the sun. Zena felt embarrassed to have been so afraid but Lief was baffled. Suddenly to have no reason for their apprehension was disquieting. He felt exactly as he did when a stranger approached and he knew instinctively that the man meant to harm him. His instincts were seldom wrong, and he did not think they were wrong now.

  Runor’s eyes opened immediately when she heard their footsteps, and when she saw who they were, her lined face creased into a wide smile.

  “Greetings, my children,” she said as Zena and Lief knelt to embrace her. “The Goddess has indeed blessed me, that I should see you again so soon.” Reaching up, she took their hands and pressed them warmly.

  “First, I must know of Mara and the little one. Are they both well?”

  “They are well, and Mara is sorry not to have come but Lief and I left so quickly there was no time to prepare. She sends you greetings and her love and would like you to know that she has a new infant. She will come with Mara-Sun and the new baby later, when the air is warmer.”

  “That is good to hear.” Runor’s eyes twinkled. “I imagine the father of the child is Hular. Am I not right?

  “Yes,” Zena agreed. “He and Mara are very close.”

  Runor nodded. “He is a good man for Mara and I am pleased.”

  Lief thought of Durak. In their concern for Runor they had almost forgotten about their old friend.

  “Is Durak here?” he asked. “He told us he would spend the winter in your village, but we did not see him when we came in.”

  “Durak passed through the village,” Runor replied, “but he went on, telling us he wished to be in the mountains and live alone for a time. He finds peace there.”

  “Do you think he is safe?” Lief asked bluntly.

  Runor considered. “I believe he is. Neither Korg nor the Leader have been seen anywhere in these parts, and I do not sense that harm has come to Durak.”

  Lief nodded. For the moment, Runor’s answer had to suffice, but he determined to look for Durak anyway, to make sure.

  “Now, you must both sit beside me so I can tell how you are,” Runor said. “What my eyes can no longer see, my hands can feel.” One at a time, she looked carefully into their faces, and then she examined them with her gnarled fingers.

  “You have changed,” she said to Lief. “That is good. I feel purpose in you, and courage. The Mother has made you one of us.”

  She turned to Zena. Her fingers explored Zena’s face, then her hands, lingering on her wrists. “The life force is strong in you now,” she said quietly. “This I can feel. It flows steadily but it is different, too. Yes, is different now.”

  “But you must tell me of all that has happened since we last met,” she continued eage
rly, “and why you have come here so early in the season.”

  Collecting her thoughts, Zena told the old wise one of their visits to the villages last summer and related her concerns about Korg and the Leader. “Each time we left a village, I had the feeling that Korg and the Leader had come just before us or after us to convince people not to listen to what I say about the Goddess.”

  Runor was instantly alert. It was as she had thought. Korg and the Leader had followed Zena all summer and stayed near her village in the winter. That was why no one in these parts had seen them - and why the Mother had kept her alive, she thought with an inward smile, though that could soon come to an end.

  “Did Korg and the Leader follow you here as well?” she asked, suddenly aware that if they had, her time of waiting might be almost over.

  “I saw Korg from my Kyrie just before we left. He was on the path heading this way, and I was afraid he was coming here to harm you,” Zena answered. “That is why we came so quickly. We wanted to warn you.”

  Runor’s heart quickened with anticipation, and excitement coursed through her body. From the moment she had seen Zena and Lief, she had suspected that their appearance was an omen. Now she knew she was right about that, too. Already, the two men could be nearby.

  She must prepare for their arrival. She must also make certain that when they came, Zena and Lief were not here. How she would manage that she did not yet know, only that she must.

  “Korg has not come here, nor would he harm me if he did,” she answered cheerfully. “He thinks I am just an old and helpless woman. So does the Leader.”

  “But if they do come here, I do not want you to deal with them alone,” Zena persisted. “I am very afraid that Korg will harm you,” she repeated stubbornly. “I do not understand why that is so, but I am certain it is.”

  Runor kept her face calm. To deceive Zena was terrible, but the alternative was worse. “Do not worry,” she reassured her. “The villagers will warn me if Korg and the Leader come. I will be well protected, even if you are not here.”