Runor felt her body bend, as if this final burden had broken it. She tried not to weep with its pain. “Great Mother,” she said in her mind, so Niva would not hear or know how deep was her agony, “Great Mother, must I reveal all that I had buried in my heart, tell of faults I have never dared to admit even to myself?” The Goddess made no answer, but Runor knew what She would say.
Gathering her remaining strength, she called for Mara and asked her to summon Zena and Larak and Brulet, Pila and Durak too. Then she spoke words she had hoped she would never be forced to utter.
“It is time for me to tell them the truth about my past.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Pila and Durak set off with Niva and Wulf for Runor’s village. Mara had sent word that Runor wanted all of them to come as soon as possible.
“Everyone does as Runor tells them,” Wulf informed Pila cheerfully. “So as soon as we are ready, we must go.”
Pila nodded. She hated the thought of leaving the secluded hut where she and Durak had discovered such happiness, but her need to know about herself was more important. She had also developed a strong feeling that Zena needed her in some way she could not imagine. She was sure now that she and Zena had once been close to each other, much closer than other people, and that Zena was struggling and needed her - which meant she really must be Teran.
Pila shook her head, frustrated. She wanted to know deep inside that she was Teran, not just convince herself she must be Teran, or fantasize about being Teran because she liked the idea. She needed to be practical, not dream about things that might not be true. Zena was the one who dreamed.
Mystified by the unexpected insight, Pila shook her head again. She walked on, caught between trepidation and exhilaration. Soon, she would see Zena, speak to her. Would she finally know then who she really was?
When they arrived at Runor’s, however, a new message drove Pila’s worries about who she was out of her mind. Lief had been killed. Lief, who had been closer to Zena than any other person, had been killed. It was a tragedy of such proportions that no other concern meant anything. Whether or not she was Teran, Pila knew how Zena must be suffering. She felt the pain as if it were her own, and all she wanted to do now was to comfort Zena.
She greeted the people she saw in Runor’s village politely, spoke to them of what had happened to her, but every part of her body was waiting now for Zena. That was all that mattered.
Zena was on her way, accompanied by Larak and Brulet, as Runor had requested. Sorlin came too. She was overjoyed that Durak had been found, and eager to see her old friend again. The news had also cheered Zena, but in another way it hurt. Durak had also been shot with an arrow, but he had lived and was recovering, while Lief was dead. Why did such things happen? Zena knew perfectly well that there was no answer for such questions, but she could not keep from asking.
“It will be so good to see Durak again!” Sorlin exclaimed as they strode along the familiar path. “Imagine, all that time he was in the old hut he and Runor fixed up when they tried to wean Rofina from the poppies.”
“It will be wonderful,” Zena agreed sincerely, and vowed to think of that pleasure instead of brooding on her loss.
Her companions were also determined to keep her from brooding. Brulet was especially good at that, Larak reflected. The girl had been a faithful companion to Zena during her long struggle to recover from Lief’s death, seeming to grasp her grief instinctively. It was almost as if they had reversed roles, Larak thought. Brulet watched over Zena as Zena had once watched over her.
When they stopped to rest and eat some grains, Brulet pulled an amulet out of her pack. “I made one of these for Pila and gave it to her when I left,” the girl said. “This one is for you.” She handed Zena a stone amulet she had made. Zena looked at it and felt a spasm of grief constrict her heart.
She had made one just like it for Lief many years ago - a circular piece of stone with a hole in its center. The polished circlets signified the wisdom of the circles, the endless connected rhythms of all life, and many Mother People wore them around their necks on leather strings, or at their waists. Lief had made long leather tassels that went through the hole in the center of his. One for each full moon we have seen together, he had told her.
It must be under him even now, Zena thought, and for a moment the grief was so strong she wanted only to sink back into desolation, to give up and simply mourn again. Brulet’s eager face, waiting expectantly for a response, did not let her.
“That is very beautiful, Brulet,” Zena murmured, as soon as she felt able to speak. “I will be happy to have it. It will bring me great comfort.”
She put the amulet carefully around her neck. Each time she looked at it, felt it, she would be reminded of Lief, but in a good way, remembering the love they had shared together.
As they walked on, Brulet entertained all of them with stories she made up in her mind, which seemed to be full of them, and also stories the old wise one in Niva’s village had told her. Larak listened with interest to the one she was telling now.
“Krone told me that Korg and the Leader, only he was called Mordor then, played nasty tricks on the people of their village when they were young,” Brulet began. “Another boy helped them, she said, and sometimes the people blamed him even though the Leader, Mordor I mean, had thought of the tricks.
“Krone did not tell me what the tricks were,” Brulet added, “but she said the Leader made them seem good and right even when they were not.”
“I am not surprised,” Zena replied. “The Leader could make almost anything seem good. But tell me more about the other boy. I never knew of him.”
“Krone told me that he could not speak,” Brulet answered. “When he was small he did not want to talk, and that made the man who was his father so angry that he beat him on the throat, many times. After that, the boy could not speak, no matter how hard he tried. He has never spoken, Krone said.
“That is a terrible story!” Larak exclaimed. “That poor child. I wonder what became of him.”
“He left his village with Korg and the Leader,” Brulet explained. “He helped them build their hut in the woods when they came to Niva’s village, but no one knew he was there. He does not like to be seen. Even Niva never saw him, though she went there often. Krone said he made the mead that the Leader drank all the time.
“Krone also said that the three of them were forced from their village because they killed a woman. Some people said it was the mother of Korg and Mordor. Some young girls were also killed, Krone said.”
“That is interesting,” Zena said. “Girls have been killed here, too. Even in the beginning, the Leader must have done things like that. Perhaps the man who cannot speak helped him.” She shuddered, imagining the terror those girls must have felt.
“Let us talk of other things,” Larak begged. “The Leader is dead, and Korg, and probably the man who traveled with him that Brulet spoke of.”
“Tell me more of Pila,” Zena suggested instead. “I never met her.”
“She is brave, very brave,” Brulet said immediately. “She was given many potions to keep her quiet, but when she realized that a child was growing inside her, I saw her spit them out when no one else was watching. If Korg had seen that, he would have been angry.
“Pila was brave when the baby came, too,” Brulet continued. “She was too young to have a child, the women said, but she did not cry out. I could see how it pained her only in her eyes. They are large and brown and they filled with tears that made them shine in the lamplight, but she did not shed them. I felt very sorry for her, but I admired her too.”
But Zena’s attention had stopped at the words large brown eyes, and she did not hear the last sentence. “Tell me what Pila looks like,” she said cautiously. Surely, though, it was not possible…
“She has brown hair, quite thick, large brown eyes and a round face,” Brulet answered. “She is about as tall as you are, Zena.”
Larak examined Zena’s fa
ce and saw the hope that had leaped into it. “Why is she called Pila?” she asked Brulet.
“She did not know her name, so Niva called her Pila,” Brulet replied. “I suppose it was the first name she thought of. Pila did not seem to mind.”
Zena wanted to weep with frustration. Why had she not thought to ask about Pila before? Niva had not permitted her to see Pila, but she could have asked Brulet about her. All these months, she had never thought to ask.
Her whole body felt frozen with tension as they approached Runor’s village, and her mind reeled with questions. Would Pila be there? Could she possibly be Teran? Had Runor summoned her because she knew Teran had been found? But if that was so, why had Runor not told her before this?
The answers came from Durak, who ran ahead to intercept them. Before giving her the news about Pila, he wanted to tell Zena how sad he was about Lief and to see for himself if she really was all right after such a momentous tragedy. He also wanted to warn her ahead of time, so she would not be too shocked when she saw Pila, who was Teran but did not know that.
After he had greeted her and spoken to her of Lief, and they had shared tears together, he broke the news.
“Pila is Teran; Runor and I are certain of it, but Pila does not remember that,” he said bluntly. “She remembers almost nothing of her past, though I think her memory is beginning to come back, a little at a time.
“I am so sorry I could not tell you this before now,” he went on. “Runor sends that message too. She did not know until we came and she saw Pila for herself. It would have comforted you to know earlier, but first Pila twisted her ankle and could not walk and then I was shot and could not walk and so we had no way of reaching you. But you can hear our story later. Now, the others are coming.”
Zena looked down the path. Mara and Hular were there, and so was another young woman. She carried a child in her arms, and she was dark-haired, familiar, unmistakably Teran…
Zena’s heart began to pound. “Teran!” she whispered through the tears that had choked her throat. “Teran, is it really you?”
Conflicting emotions poured into her - wild, overwhelming joy that Teran was alive, desolation that she was no longer the sister who had once been Teran. She had Teran back, but would she ever be Teran again?
She must not think of that. Teran was alive, just as she had always thought, and that was all that mattered. A happiness she had not felt since Lief’s death poured into Zena. At least she still had Teran, even if she was not the Teran she had lost.
She had something else, too, she reminded herself, something she had not realized until recently, had told no one else about…
Taking a deep breath, Zena brushed away her tears and hugged Durak warmly. “I am so glad to see you again, Durak! We were very worried about you. And thank you for warning me about Teran. To know that she is alive…”
She could not go on. Durak understood. He brought Mara and Hular to greet her first, giving her time to recover before she turned to greet Pila.
Zena went up to her. “I am Zena,” she said softly, and held out her hands in a gesture of greeting.
For a moment, Pila stood perfectly still and stared at Zena. Suddenly, her shadow woman had turned into flesh and blood, turned into someone she knew almost as well as she knew herself, only she still didn’t really know either.
It did not matter, she thought, impatient with herself. What mattered was that Zena needed her. Taking Zena’s hands, she pulled her into her arms.
“I know you almost as well as I know myself, yet at the same time I do not know you,” she whispered. “It is a strange feeling. But I also know that you have felt great pain since Lief’s death, such terrible pain, because I have felt it too, for you. Even if I still do not know fully that I am Teran, I feel as if I were Teran, and oh how I wish I could have been with you sooner that this. I have felt you longing for me…”
She drew away and looked up into Zena’s tear-stained face. “I am so glad we have found each other at last,” she whispered, still holding Zena’s hands in hers.
Zena could not speak. The tears were flowing too fast. Pila was Teran; she felt and smelled and sounded like Teran, so she really did have Teran back…
She blinked hard, trying to contain the emotions surging inside her. Teran had always been better at that, but even she was struggling despite her smile and her brave words. Her brown eyes were brilliant with unshed tears.
“For me to express how joyous it is to have you back again is… Well, if I speak of it I will weep again and I might not be able to stop,” she whispered back. “And one day you will know both of us again; I know it will be true, and I will help all I can. We will have to be patient, but at least now we can wait together.”
Pila smiled, the wide, radiant, warming smile Zena remembered so well.“Yes,” she agreed. “Already I have started knowing you. For a long time now, I have felt you like a shadow beside me, and now suddenly you are no longer a shadow.”
“I have felt you like a shadow beside me, too, for all the time you have been gone,” Zena confided when she could trust her voice. “That is how I knew you were still alive. And I am very, very glad you are no longer a shadow. Even if you do not remember, you are real.”
They were silent then, looking at each other uncertainly, yet with complete understanding. How odd it was, Zena thought, to both know and not know another person at the same time. She could barely imagine how strange it must feel to know who you were with one part of you but not know with the other. But at the same time, it seemed to her that she and Teran were already as close to each other, as able to intuit each other’s thoughts and feelings as they had been before. Even if Pila did not remember who she was, even if she never fully remembered, they would have that closeness. That was truly a gift.
The child provided a welcome interruption from the intensity of their reunion. Reaching out from Pila’s arms, he touched Zena’s face. He had pale hair and blue-green eyes, very like her own, and for the first time, Zena absorbed the fact that it was her beloved sister’s child she had saved, Teran’s child.
“He is beautiful,” she said, trying to smile as tears pricked at her eyelids again.
Pila seemed to pick up her thoughts, as Teran had so often done. “You saved him for me,” she said, her voice finally breaking. “They would have taken my child… That you should have saved him, not knowing….”
They would both have broken down again then if Brulet had not come running up. She hugged Pila fiercely. “Oh, I am so glad to see you again! We heard that you had left Niva’s village and we were so worried. We did not know where you were. I am so glad to know you are safe and to see you here!”
Thrilled to see Brulet again, Pila hugged her back. Brulet was like a refreshing breeze cooling the intense emotions raging inside her, and she was very glad of the distraction. “I am so glad to see you again too, Brulet. I have wanted to see you again for a long time. And I am happy to be here, very happy. How I have longed to be in a village with Mother People again!”
“I brought you a shell like the one I once showed you,” Brulet said. She handed Pila a shell that looked much like the one Zena had given her so long ago. “I wanted you to have one because you loved looking at it.”
Pila was delighted with the gift. “I thank you Brulet! I will treasure the shell. It is beautiful. I will keep it with me always. Like this one,” she added, pointing to the amulet around her neck.
Brulet’s eyes lit up. “I am glad you still have it,” she said.
“It is because of the amulet and the shell you showed me that I left Niva’s village,” Pila added with a smile. “They told me that I did not belong there.”
“How did they do that?” Brulet asked, fascinated.
Pila’s face became dreamy. “The amulet because you told me it symbolized the Mother’s never-ending circle of wisdom, and I knew I must find the place where other people believed that. As for the shell - I often dreamed of a land where many shells like the one yo
u gave me lay scattered on fine earth that was almost white. Your shell told me that my dream could be real, that perhaps once I really had gone to that place, and so I had to leave Niva’s village to see if I could find the people who had taken me there. I remember that the water stretched all the way to the horizon and went back and forth ceaselessly, though I do not know how that can happen...” She broke off, confused.
“That is the place where we - the Mother People - go for our ceremonies,” Zena told her, finally managing a smile. “We will go there together soon.”
“Yes. Durak said that too. I want to go there very much,” Pila replied.
She turned to Durak. “I do not know what would have happened to me and to my child after I left Niva’s village if Durak had not found me and helped me to recover. I was very weak still, and then I sprained my ankle badly, so I could not walk. Durak took care of me. I would not be here now, but for Durak.” She reached for his hand, and Zena saw instantly that they were lovers.
A pang of longing for Lief shot through her even as she rejoiced for Durak. He had been so devastated by Rofina’s death that she had not been sure he would ever recover. Thanks to Pila, he had.
Niva came to greet them then, and to tell them that Runor was waiting. “She tires easily,” Niva said with just a trace of her old bossiness, “so it will be good if you can come right away.”
Obediently, they went to greet Runor. She looked old and weary and distressed, Zena thought, and wondered what troubled her so badly.
Runor greeted them soberly, which was unlike her. She offered them food and drink, and when they had finished, she rose laboriously to her feet. “Come,” she said. “I must show you the man who came to us.”
ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) Page 32
