CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) (48 page)

Except Akate. 
That he felt.  Akate was lust, and that was all there was to Akat. Zena
kept trying to tell him of other kinds of Akat, but he paid little
attention.  Tron felt himself grow hard as he watched her.  She made
him feel lust, and the more he came to resent her, the stronger it
became.  He had seen desire on her face, too, and it had inflamed him even
further.  She was teasing him with it, showing desire and then refusing to
act on it.  One day, he would have her anyway, whether she liked it or
not.  The thought was exciting. 

He lowered himself
into a crook between two branches and sat as still as one of the great cats as he
watched the two young women.  Much time must pass before darkness came,
and until then, he would not move. 

Zena, too, entered
the Ekali eagerly.  The familiar place seemed to welcome her, and
immediately she felt more peaceful.  It was good that she and Nevilar
would have some time together here.  Perhaps they could talk, and she
could try to understand what was bothering her friend.  That something was
bothering her Zena did not doubt.  She had seen the rush of emotion in
Nevilar's face when she had offered to help with the bruises.  She could
feel Nevilar's tension, too, and her unhappiness. 

Zena set about
making a fire, while Nevilar washed the berries and grains they had brought in
the stream that flowed through the small enclosure.  The strain left their
faces as they worked.  They felt completely safe here, even by themselves,
for the Ekali was surrounded by a thick barrier of thorny brush.  Branches
were added every year, and now the wall was high and deep, strong enough to
discourage even the most determined predator.  There was nothing else to
harm them, so they never worried.  Still, Zena kept looking up
uneasily.  She had a tingling feeling in the middle of her back, as if she
were being watched.  But she had seen no tracks of lions or tigers, and
even if one lurked nearby, it was unlikely to leap over the barrier, especially
when there was a fire inside.

Probably it was
just her imagination, she decided, or came from spending so much time on her
guard with Tron.  Even here, she could not seem to forget him
completely.  She was glad Lune was coming later.  Then, she could
truly relax, for with Lune, she always felt safe.  She turned her back to
the fire and felt its warmth pull away the tingling sensation.  Perhaps,
after all, she had just been cold.

Nevilar came to
join her.  She was shivering, Zena noticed, despite the garment that hung
from her shoulders.  The sun had hidden behind scurrying clouds, and the
temperature was dropping.  She pulled out an extra fur she had brought and
wrapped it around Nevilar.  Again, tears welled up in the young woman's
eyes.

Zena pretended not
to notice them.  "The fire will keep us warm," she said, patting
the ground beside her so that Nevilar would sit.  "Soon we will need
coverings for our feet as well.  See, I have brought some fur so we can
work together."

She brought out
the fur, taken from long-eared animals that had feet for walking above the
snow.  In winter, they were white; in summer, brown.  Zena loved to
watch their long ears twitch, see them leap and twist as they ran, and she was
always sorry when they were killed.  Still, they would live again one day,
and in the meantime, she would have warm feet.

Handing Nevilar a
needle made of bone and a piece of the strong, thin animal gut they used as
thread, she began to work.  They sat in silence for a long time. 

"You are
unhappy, I think, Nevilar," Zena said finally, when she thought her friend
was relaxed enough not to mind her words.  "I would like to help if I
can."

Nevilar
jumped.  She had been deep in thought, and had not expected Zena to
speak.  In this place that was so filled with the Mother's presence, the
guilt she was able to repress when she was with Tron weighed heavily on her
heart.  She had disobeyed Menta, violated the Mother's command.  Here,
she could not hide that fact, even from herself. 

Without warning,
tears began to splash onto the soft fur in her hands.  She wanted
desperately to answer Zena, to tell her of the secret liaisons with Tron, but
she did not dare.  If she did, the others would find out, and then they
might banish her.

A sob escaped and
became a hiccup as Nevilar tried to disguise it.  Zena waited again for
many minutes, then began to speak, very quietly.

"I, too, feel
unhappiness right now.  I feel it because of Tron.  It is hard to
teach feelings to one who seems not to know them.  But if I do not, all
will suffer.  And sometimes I am afraid of him.  I do not know why,
but - "

"I,
too," Nevilar said, interrupting without thinking.  She clapped her
hand to her mouth, horrified at her words.

"Tron has
frightened you too?"

Nevilar's eyes,
still round with horror at her mistake, met Zena's for the first time in many
months.  Slowly, her resentment crumbled.  She saw compassion in
Zena's eyes, and concern, but there was no hint of superiority or pride. 
Instead, she saw the same quiet strength she had come to expect from Menta, the
same promise of wisdom, and she understood why Zena would one day be a wise
one.  The words began to pour out of her mouth.

"He comes to
me, to my place of mating.  He has come many times, and I have wanted him
there... I have wanted him so badly.  But sometimes he hurts me.  It
is because he cares for me; that is why he hits me, because he does not want me
to be with others, but I must take others.

"It is
because of you too.  He hates those lessons.  He hates them. 
And then he comes to me, and I..."

Nevilar gulped, as
if she were trying to swallow the words even as they sprang from her lips.
"I have Akat with him.  I have Akat because I wanted to help
him.  He cares for me and I wanted to help, but now I am afraid.  And
Menta - I have disobeyed her, and I have disobeyed the Mother..."

Nevilar gave in to
the sobs that consumed her.  Zena listened to the wrenching noises, and
her lips tightened.

"It is Tron
who has bruised you?"

Nevilar
nodded.  Zena leaned over and picked up the garment that had fallen from
her friend's shoulders and wrapped it around her protectively.  Nevilar
grabbed her hand and held it.

"Will they
send me away?"

"No,
Nevilar.  I do not think Menta will do that.  But you must speak to
her, tell her what you have told me, and you must speak to the Mother, ask Her
forgiveness. The Mother forgives all things if you are sincere."

Uneasiness gripped
Zena despite her calm words.  Nevilar's confession had shocked her, not
just because of what she had done, but because of Tron's cruelty.  Never
had she known a man to hurt a woman on purpose, as Tron had hurt Nevilar. He
must have hit her very hard, pinched her viciously, to make such bruises. 
And if he could do that, even as he was coming to her with his face set in
pleasant lines, hating the lessons, hating her, and hiding that hate...

It was not Tron
she had been seeing.  He was other than that, a person she could barely
fathom.

Zena shivered
convulsively.  She had been right.  Tron could name the feelings she
had tried so hard to describe, but he did not know what they were.

Something is
lacking in Tron
.  The words she had spoken at the council came back to
her, only now she knew her first understanding was wrong.  Tron did not
lack just the ability to read faces.  As Menta had feared, he lacked the
ability to feel love or kindness at all.  They were not there inside him.

She felt afraid
suddenly.  Even here, in this special place, there was fear.  She
must go, take Nevilar with her and go back to the others.  Zena knew it
absolutely, and she stood, ready to stamp out the fire, so they could leave.

A slight sound
behind her made her look up in relief.  Lune must have decided to come
early.  They would be all right now.  Lune had come.

She froze. 
It was not Lune.  It was Tron.  He stood, hands on hips, rolling on
his toes a little, as if he were about to spring.  He was staring at
Nevilar.  She had not seen him, for her head was buried in her
hands.  But Zena saw, and her heart shrank with fear.  There was fury
in his eyes, a terrible consuming fury.

Nevilar looked up
and gasped in terror.  Before she could move, Tron lunged at her and
grabbed her hair with one hand.  Grunting, he hit her across the face,
over and over again.  She  screamed and tried to pull away.  But
he had her hair, and every time she moved, he jerked it as he hit her
again. 

"You have
betrayed me," he snarled.  "You have told!" 

Nevilar pummeled
his wrist, begging him to stop.  Her actions only increased his
rage.  Savagely, he pulled his arm back, then shoved his fist into her
mouth with all his strength.  The crunching sound of the blow satisfied
him.  She deserved to be hit!  He had warned her.

"Tron! Stop!" 
Zena hauled at his arms.  She succeeded in holding the arm that was
hitting Nevilar.  Tron gave Nevilar's head a final wrenching twist and
turned on Zena. 

He stood for a
moment, enjoying the fear in her eyes.  She was the one he really wanted
to hurt.  Every day, he had been forced to listen to her, be with her, but
he could not have her, even when he saw desire on her face.  Then she had
said it was not for him, but for the lesson.  Well, he would show her who
it was for.  He would have her now, take her by force.  That would
hurt her most of all.  She thought she could control him, control Akat,
but he would make her do what he wanted, and she would not be able to stop
him.  Menta had not stopped him, the Mother had not stopped him, and Zena
would not stop him.

Savagely, he bent
her arm backward, then punched her hard in the face with his other hand. 
She gasped in pain.

Nevilar pounded on
Tron's back.  "No!  I will come with you.  No, Tron, you
must not hurt Zena.  I will come!"

Tron turned and
hissed at her through his teeth as he wrestled Zena's arms behind her
back.  "I do not care for you.  I cared only for Akate.  That
you have given me.  Now I will have it elsewhere."

Nevilar's face
crumpled and she turned away.  But then Zena screamed as Tron shoved his
knee in her belly and forced her to the ground.  Grabbing a stick, Nevilar
whacked at his thick shoulders.  He turned quickly and slammed his fist
into her chest.  Her body sagged and she fell back.

Zena clenched her
jaw and strained upward, trying to free her arms.  But Tron was on top of
her now and she could not move at all.  He was trying to force her legs
apart, pushing and shoving.  She willed them closed.  Quick as a cat,
he brought one arm around and punched the side of her thigh.  She gasped,
and for an instant, her muscles relaxed.  He shoved his legs between
hers.  And then, before she could even take another breath, he was inside
her.  Gasping heavily, he thrust in and out, then shook convulsively as he
ejaculated.  In that instant, Zena freed her arms.  She pounded at
him relentlessly, but he seemed not even to feel her blows.  He lay there,
satiated, triumphant.

Rage filled Zena,
that he had done this terrible thing, that he had hurt her, hurt Nevilar. 
She twisted out from under his heavy body and stood over him, shaking with
anger.  He grabbed her arm and hauled her savagely back to the
ground.  Zena raised her other arm, to hit him, but at just that moment, a
body came hurtling into the Ekali.

"Conar!" 
Zena only whispered his name, but Tron heard.  He leaped to his feet.
Conar ran straight into Tron's hard body and began to pummel him wildly with
both fists.  Tron staggered under the barrage of blows, but quickly
recovered.  He took a step backward and then lunged at the smaller male,
grasping him around the waist with strong, clenching arms.  Oblivious to
the rain of blows landing on his back, he wrestled Conar to the ground and
knelt on his chest.  Conar reached up to tear at the hard face above him,
but Tron only lowered his head and began to pound it against Conar's
neck.  Over and over he pounded.  Conar jerked wildly, trying to
escape, but Tron was much heavier and stronger, and he could not budge. 
He groaned in an agony of helplessness, but then the groaning ceased, for Tron
had placed both hands around his neck and had begun to squeeze.

A croaking noise
came from Conar.  Zena heard it, and she moved.  Grabbing one of the
big rocks that surrounded the fire, she brought it down on Tron's head with all
the strength, all the rage in her body.  The movement satisfied her, and
she raised the rock to hit him again.  She wanted to hit him over and
over, as many times as she could, until he could not hurt her or any of the
others any more.  But before she could lower her arms, Tron fell forward
across Conar's chest, then slid to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Zena held the rock
against her chest, paralyzed with horror.  Tron's body jerked once
convulsively, and a strange croak came from his throat.  After that, he
did not move again.

**************************

Menta looked up
from her task, her eyes suddenly alert.  Something was wrong. She could
feel it, as if the terrible thing were happening in front of her.  But she
did not know what it was, or where it was happening.

"Lune!" 
Her voice was sharp as she called to her sister.  Usually, both of them
felt wrongness when it came.

Lune came running,
alerted by the tone in Menta's voice.  But she had felt it herself, even
before that. 

"I think it
is Zena.  We must go to the Ekali, quickly."

Calling to Bakan
and Tragar, who were working nearby, they ran into the woods.  Tragar
caught up to them.

"I was
watching Tron, but he hid from me."

Menta nodded,
saving her breath for running.  She had known; from the beginning she had
known.  Why had she let Zena talk her into leaving them alone?  Except
Tron could not be with her today.  She and Nevilar were at the Ekali, and
surely Tron would not go there.