CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES)

by LAMBERT, JOAN DAHR

  Silence came, a long, deep silence that seemed to wrap itself around Zena, soothing the turmoil in her heart. And when the Goddess spoke again, her voice was gentle and caring.

  "It is you, Zena, who will begin the healing." Zena felt the words like the tender touch of an old woman's fingers on her brow. The fingers seemed to draw her upward, and she stood, opening her arms to the sky.

  Once more the Goddess spoke, and now Her voice was as powerful as thunder, filled with authority. Zena pulled the words into her mind and heart so she would never forget.

  "Go, now, and tell those who wait for you that I have spoken. Do not lose courage. The Mother will be with you for many years to come. And when the time of violence is over, She will return to the minds of all the people. Because you and all those who bear your name have held Her safely in your hearts, the world of the Goddess, the Mother of all life, will one day be reborn."

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

  Menace hung in the air. Zena could smell it, taste it, like a physical presence. Four years had passed since the Goddess had warned them, and each summer the invaders came closer in their yearly raids. This time, they must be very close.

  Her eyes darted around the clearing. They were all here, except for Conar.

  He sprang suddenly from the trees. "Into the tunnels! Quick!" The urgency in his voice was unmistakable.

  The others responded immediately. Their movements were fast and practiced, for they had done this many times. Each of the adults picked up a child, grabbed another by the hand, and sprinted for the tunnels. One at a time, they slid through the narrow opening and made their way to the Mother's chamber. There, they would be safe, this time at least.

  So far, the men had not discovered the caves, but one day, Zena thought grimly, they would. Before that time came, she must take the young Zena away. Her daughter was the next guardian of the sacred knowledge, and she must keep her safe.

  The sharp sound of pebbles hitting the ground brought terror to her heart. Was it possible that this time the men had found the entrance to the tunnels?

  She strained her ears, listening, afraid. But there were no more sounds. Perhaps some small rocks had fallen in the adjoining chamber.

  For a long time, the group sat in complete silence. Even the children knew they must make no noise at all. After a while, Zena handed them some berries to eat, to make the waiting less arduous. They always kept food and water in the chamber now, for times like this. Finally, when the light that came through the opening high above told them many hours had passed, Conar rose.

  "I will see if they are gone," he whispered. Zena nodded and watched him slip away, silent as a shadow. The familiar agony invaded her heart, but this time it was worse because she knew the men were nearby. They could be hiding in the woods, behind the rocks, where they could spot Conar as he left the tunnels.

  The young Zena reached for her mother's hand. Her small face was clouded with worry. She, too, suffered when Conar left. Zena held the child's palm against her cheek, tried to smile in reassurance.

  "Protect Conar for us, Great Goddess," she prayed silently. "Keep him safe, for we love him and we need him to warn us."

  The agony did not dissipate. It would not leave her until Conar returned; she knew that from experience. To distract herself, she began to think of the ones who had already left, to search for a new home in a place where the violence had not yet come. Zena had sent them east, always east toward the sun, for that was what the Goddess had shown her.

  Lilan, now a wise one herself, had led the group. Pulot and Nevilar and Gunor had gone with her, taking Rofal and Sarila and their tiny infant, many others in the tribe as well. Even Katli had gone, for Zena had persuaded her that one who knew the animals so well would be needed on the journey. To lose them had been hard, but Zena was certain that one day they would be reunited.

  Probably she and Conar and the young Zena should have gone, too, Zena thought, watching her daughter's anxious face. But it had seemed to her that only here, in the place where the Mother had been born, could the young Zena learn all she would need to know to speak for the Goddess in the years to come. To leave Menta and Lune had seemed unbearable as well. In the last years, both of them had become old and frail. Menta especially had been too weak to travel, and Zena had known that Lune would never leave her sister - and so she had stayed.

  She glanced at the fresh dirt at one edge of the circle of stones. Menta and Lune were there now, buried side by side in the Mother's chamber, as they had wished.

  "When we return to the Mother, you must bury us here," they had said. "It is a good place to be, for part of us will be here always, in the sacred circle built by the Mother Herself."

  They had died within days of each other, as connected in death as they had been in life. A sickness that had affected many in the tribe had carried Menta away first. Seeming then to lose all strength, Lune had followed. Zena had offered them herbs, thought of trying to heal them, but they had waved her away. "It is time for us to return to the Mother," they had agreed. "She awaits us."

  Sadness overcame Zena again as she remembered, but she knew, too, that this could be a signal from the Goddess that the time to leave had come.

  Conar was suddenly by her side. Relief flooded her, and she pulled him close. He pressed against her, and she felt his heart thud harshly against her chest.

  "They have gone," he told her softly. A sigh passed through the chamber as the others relaxed. Some of the children began to chatter, their voices quiet as if they were not quite certain yet that talking was safe. They understood the meaning of danger, Zena thought sadly, for they were children she had brought to the caves after their tribes had been raided. They had watched as the men they loved were slaughtered, had seen their mothers and sisters raped and taken away. For this reason, too, she was glad she had stayed. At least she had been able to save some of the children by bringing them here.

  The young Zena came to greet Conar, and he reached down to enfold her in his arms. Ten years had passed now since her birth, but she was still small enough to hold. Still, she was strong, in her mind as well as her body, Zena knew.

  Conar looked at Zena over the child's head, then his eyes returned to the child, and then they traveled once again to Zena's face. She understood his unspoken warning. To keep the young Zena here was no longer safe. She must hurry, to finish the training.

  "I need one more day, only one more," she told Conar, her eyes anxious. "Can you tell if the men will return?"

  "They follow the bison tonight," Conar replied, "tomorrow as well. But they will be back. I know many of their words now, and I heard them speak of caves. It is possible they know of this place." The warning look returned to his eyes.

  "I will be ready tomorrow," Zena promised. "After I have taken the young Zena with me to greet the Goddess, we will leave."

  Conar nodded and slid through the tunnel to resume his watching. Zena breathed another prayer for his safety, then she led her daughter into a quiet corner of the cavern.

  "Tomorrow," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "we must leave, to go to the other caves, the ones Conar spoke of. To stay here is no longer safe."

  Three days' journey to the east, Conar had discovered a smaller group of caves. They would go there first; then, when they were certain the danger was past, they would begin the search for Lilan and her group.

  "I wish to stay here." The young Zena's face was stubborn.

  "That cannot be," Zena replied sadly. "The men with knives are coming closer. One day, they might find the entrance to the caves, and then all of us could be killed."

  "But who will protect the Mother's home if we are gone?"

  "We must trust that the Goddess Herself will protect it," Zena answered.

  The young Zena's face was a mask of sadness as she absorbed these words.

  "Taggart and Lipa are at the other caves already, waiting for us," Zena told her gently. "They went ahead to make sure the way was safe if we needed to co
me."

  Taggart and Lipa were Pulot's oldest son and daughter, and were two of the people Zena had chosen to help her guard the young Zena on their journey. Both were strong and fearless, and they loved the young Zena dearly, would give their lives for her if that was needed.

  The child's eyes lit up at the thought of seeing two of her favorite people again, then grew sober once more as she remembered what the journey meant.

  "Now you must eat and drink," Zena continued, "for a special task awaits us, one that may take many hours. As soon as you are ready, we will go together to the Kyrie. The Goddess Herself wishes to teach you now, through Her visions. Only in that way can you absorb the remaining lessons in the time that is left to us.

  "I will stay with you," she added, seeing her daughter's eyes widen in apprehension, or perhaps it was awe.

  When they had eaten, she led her daughter to the deep black pool and held her close as the dark water closed around them. The child pressed against her but made no sound as the almost imperceptible current slid them gently toward the rocks on the far side of the chamber. No turbulence, no whirling vortex assaulted them, as it had when she had first entered the pool, and Zena was grateful. There was so much already for the child to absorb, so very much for one so young.

  Pain spliced through her chest as they clambered up the steep path to the cliff. It was not shortness of breath that caused her pain, or even fear, only the knowledge that she would never again climb these rocks with the beloved daughter who clung so tightly to her hand. She had thought to bring her here many times, to sit with her and listen to her thoughts, watch her grow in the Mother's wisdom, and now she would not.

  Zena stopped for a moment, steeling herself. To teach the young Zena and keep her safe was most important, and she must not let sadness deter her from her purpose. Even if all of them were killed, even if she herself died, the young Zena would have the sacred knowledge, and the Mother's ways would not be forgotten.

  They came to the opening high on the cliff. Zena led her daughter out upon the ledge and stood, arms upraised, to greet the Goddess. The young Zena watched, still and silent.

  "Great Goddess, I bring You my daughter, who is destined to serve You, for she, too, bears the name of Zena. Help her as she learns Your ways; walk within her as she journeys through her life. Send her Your knowledge, Your wisdom; guide her heart and mind as she leads our people in the years to come. Blessed Mother, we reach now for Your strength."

  Zena waited until she felt the Goddess within her, deep and secure, before she turned to speak to her daughter. The young Zena listened carefully, for she knew she must never forget what she learned this day in the sacred place.

  "For many years, more than any can remember," Zena told her, "we have lived in harmony with each other and with the life around us. That is because we have followed the ways of the Mother, the ways of peace and caring. In each tribe, there was a wise woman who taught the Mother's ways to her daughter, or her sister's daughter; she, too, passed on her knowledge, and so it has been, until now, for all the years of our existence.

  “Some of these wise ones were called Zena, like ourselves. To us, the Mother entrusts her most arduous tasks. The first one lived long ago, before the time of our people's memory. Still, her love for her people, her suffering when they were hungry or in pain, was no different than our own. The next Zena could see far more with her mind than any other, and she changed our world in many ways. Because of her, all people came to know the Mother, so that all could live in peace.

  "The one who came after her was myself, and already you know something of my story. But now you must know all; you must journey into my heart and mind, into the hearts and minds of the others who bore the name of Zena, for we are one even as we are separate. Here, as we wait on the cliff, the Goddess will bring you our lives, in Her visions. You will feel our joy and suffering, know our thoughts, our fear and wonder, see and hear all that we have seen and heard, until you have become us. Only in this way can you fulfill the destiny entrusted to you by the Goddess: to keep the Mother's ways alive in the time of trial to come.

  "Come with me now, child, come with me to greet the Goddess, for She calls us. Pull Her wisdom into your heart, Her strength into your body, Her love into your heart. Feel Her deep within you as She takes you back to the beginning, to the one who was first called Zena. She will teach you, as each of us will teach you. Fill yourself with our lives, our knowledge and visions, all that we have experienced, until we have become a part of you, a part of all the Zenas yet to come, so that the ways of the Mother will never be forgotten."

  Hours passed, hours that encompassed days and months, then years beyond counting. The sun vanished in an explosion of orange and red, and darkness crept across the land, became black as the pool below. Not until the moon was high in the night sky did the young Zena finally slump to the ground. Tenderly, Zena carried her down the steep rocks, through the deep pool, and into the circle of stones. There the child slept for many hours. And when she opened her eyes again, Zena knew her daughter had fulfilled her mission. The visions were hers now, never to be forgotten. When the time came, she would pass them to the next Zena; she would pass them to the next, and so it would be without end. Thus would the Goddess live.

  *************************

  The vast chamber was dark save for a faint glimmer of early light that filtered through the opening high in the cliffs. Zena sat stolidly within the circle of stones, her body heavy with anguish. To leave the home she had lived in for so long seemed more than she could bear.

  "We go now." Her voice was barely audible in the cavernous space, but the others heard. One at a time, they came to kneel before the Goddess, then made their way through the narrow passages to the entrance to the caves.

  Zena rose and went to stand before the image of the Goddess. "Great Mother," she prayed, "we grieve that we can no longer guard the sacred chamber that is Your home. Keep it safe for us, so that we can hope one day to return. Protect all of us who worship You as we search for a new home where we may live by Your ways. Great Mother, we go now, from this place where You were born. May we keep it always in our hearts."

  Slowly, she turned away. Conar came to take her hand; the young Zena went ahead, her small body straight and purposeful. They bent to crawl through the narrow passage that led from the Mother's chamber, and emerged into the room Conar and Lilan had painted. The bison and reindeer and the other animals stared down at them, as if they, too, were bidding them farewell. Through the winding tunnels they went, to the magnificent chamber with its hanging needles and massive upright pillars. The formations glimmered softly in the dim light of Conar's flare. The walls of the caves pressed in on them then, as they had so many years ago when Conar and Zena had first entered the caves. Then, with startling suddenness, they were outside.

  Zena turned to gaze at the ledge high on the cliff where she had spoken so often to the Goddess. The goat was perched there, its body silhouetted against the sky. She raised a hand in greeting; then she steeled herself to walk away.

  All that morning they traveled east, but just as they lost sight of the cliffs where they had lived for so long, a man came running up behind them. His tribe was trapped in the Mother’s chambers, he told them. They had run in there for sanctuary, but the men with knives had followed them.

  Zena did not hesitate. “I must go back,” she said. “The Goddess calls on me to help.”

  “I, too, must go back,” Conar said. He knelt by the young Zena. “You must go on to the other caves with the people who guard you,” he said gently. “You will be safe there until your mother and I return.”

  Zena knelt beside him, trying in vain to hide her anguish that she and her beloved daughter must part. “This is for you," she said, drawing from her skin bag a small wooden statue, very old, with a big belly and full breasts. “It was carved long ago by those who first knew the Mother, and it has great power. You must keep it with you always. The Goddess lives in the statue, and
She will keep you safe as you journey through your life."

  The young Zena took it into her arms. “I will keep it with me always,” she promised, and Zena did not doubt that it was true. Already, the ancient statue seemed a part of the young Zena. Truly, she was blessed to have such a daughter.

  She pulled the young Zena close, hugged her as if her heart would break. Tears flowed from her eyes, fell warm and heavy on her daughter’s cheeks.

  "I grieve with all my heart that I must leave you, my daughter, but that is the will of the Mother. She will care for you, keep you from harm, for you are Hers. Always, the ones called Zena, like ourselves, belong to the Goddess."

  For a moment, the young Zena clung to her, terrified of losing her. Then her arms slowly dropped, as if she understood that her mother belonged not to her, but to the Goddess.

  Zena rose and stood with her arms spread to the sky. "Great Goddess, Mother of all life, I leave the child Zena in Your care. Keep her safe, Beloved Mother, so that one day she may fulfill her destiny as I go this day to fulfill my own. Great Goddess, I come to You now."

  For a long moment, her eyes lingered on Zena's face. Then she turned away, to go to the Kyrie, to the Goddess. To her death.

  CIRCLES IN THE SKY, the next book in the Mother People Series, begins immediately after CIRCLES OF STONE ends, as the young Zena travels east with the men and women who guard her. Her story is as compelling as the stories of all the other Zenas, perhaps more so, for she must undertake the awesome task of leading the Mother People while she is still only a child. Though she is wise beyond her years and sees the world around her with the eyes and senses of a true seer, her behavior during these formative years is still that of a child, with all a child’s feelings of inadequacy and inability to understand complex emotional states. A well-developed practicality that blends oddly with her visionary nature makes this Zena intensely human, and very appealing.

  CIRCLES IN THE SKY is available as an e-book and will soon also be available as a paperback. Please go to Joan Dahr Lambert’s page on Amazon for details.