ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) (17 page)

Another truth emerged: her actions would not pass unnoticed. She would have to answer to the Goddess
for her sin
. It was a bargain well worth making.

Carefully, she replaced the Goddess, and when Mara and Hular returned she was bent over her pestle as she had been before. She glanced up as they entered, and Mara looked at her in surprise. For the first time in years there was no fear on Runor
’s
face. In its place was serenity - a serenity Mara could not understand.

CHAPTER
NINE

The old woman lifted the baby from its mother
’s
unresisting arms. It did not protest; its eyes were closed, its breathing regular but shallow. Krone was pleased. She had put the herbs in the mother
’s
drink earlier, and as she had hoped, the infant had also been sedated when it suckled. If it had to be sacrificed, at least it would not feel fear. The mother would suffer less as well. When she woke, it would be over.

She gazed down at the tiny face and felt a terrible pity. Another feeling followed quickly, a premonition. One day this child would walk, something inside her said.

Do not count on that
, she scolded herself brusquely. Long ago she had been a seer, or so the others had said, and it was true that many events she had seen in her mind had come to pass, but no one wanted to hear of such things any more - especially the Leader. Not that she cared for what he thought. It was just necessary to live through these times as she had lived through so many others. To go against what other people believed seldom worked. Better simply to wait
for
more changes
to come
.

Sighing, she wrapped the baby carefully in the soft cloths she had prepared. Would the herbs keep him soothed long enough? She thought they would, but she had not used herbs very often in the last years. Only Korg and the people he selected were allowed to administer them now, though she did anyway, sometimes. Of this, she was certain Korg had no knowledge. The people she had helped had kept her secret well.

A cackle of laughter rose in the old woman
’s
throat. If Korg and the Leader ever did find out, ever accused her - well, she knew more about them than they knew of her. Had she not helped at their births, watched them grow?
Yes, there was much she knew
.
The Leader had not always been as fine and gentle as he now
appeared to be
. She had seen him when he was very different.
Mordor, he had been called
then
.
As for
his younger brother
,
Korg - once a sapling was twisted it did not straight
en.
There had been a
third b
oy
who hung around the brothers
, she recalled, a
thick
ugly child who
never
spoke
because his mind was not right
.

Krone shook her head in momentary pity. The boy
’s
father had beaten him on the throat to make him speak but that
only
made the problem worse.
After that, t
he boy
had attached himself to
Korg and Mordor
like a leech and had helped them with their nasty tricks. She had never been sure wh
ich of the
brothers
planned the
tricks
, only that the three of them had terrorized the village. What had that
other
boy
’s
name been? She could not remember, only that it had a hard sound.
He had been
unusually
strong.

But of course, all that had been a long time ago, she reminded herself. Perhaps the brothers really had changed. After all, she had left the village before they were grown, when she herself was still young. Probably that was why they had never recognized her.

Krone
looked again at the infant in her arms and shook her head. No. They had not changed, or Korg had not at least. Their willingness to kill an innocent baby was proof enough
of that
. They just made it seem as if what they did was good. They had excelled at that from the beginning. Korg had always had the ability to deceive, and
Mordor
had always been able to persuade those who listened that what he and his brother
had done
was
just and
right, even if others had been hurt.
That had certainly not changed.
People usually did not change.

When the two
brothers
had first come to the village, she had tried to tell the others what she knew of them, but no one had wanted to hear. She was only old Krone, they said, who no longer remembered as well as she should. Perhaps that was true; often she did not remember what happened between the time the sun rose each day and set again at night, but the past she remembered well. She knew what Korg and Mordor had done, why they had left their home. If she had to, she would speak, and make the others listen.

The sound of drumming came to her ears, and her heart began to pound in terrible anticipation. Would this really happen?

Brulet came into the hut, and the old woman
’s
eyes lit up. Brulet was the only one who listened to her, who understood. She had heard all the old stories, wanted always to hear them again and again, as if she could never get enough of them. Still, Krone had never told Brulet what she knew about Korg and the Leader, fearing that the knowledge would be dangerous. If what the child heard showed on her face, they would know.

There was a strange expression on the girl
’s
face now, the old woman saw. She looked apprehensive, but it was the kind of apprehension that contained not just fear but hope. Had she, too, felt a premonition?

The feeling came back to her, stronger now, and she looked closely at Brulet. The girl met her eyes squarely. Neither spoke, but a message, undefined but still understood, was exchanged.

Brulet came closer to look at the infant, but Krone pulled it away from her.
“
It is better not to look again,
”
she said gently.

Fear suddenly dominated Brulet
’s
face. Her eyes closed for a long moment
;
then she nodded and slipped from the hut.

“
It may not be, it may not be,
”
the old woman mumbled to herself, and wondered if Brulet heard.

“
What may not be?
”
The voice was challenging. Niva, a stout dark-haired woman, stood before her, arms extended for the infant.

“
It may not be that a storm comes,
”
Krone said in a dreamy voice, one she often used to fool people.

Niva shook her head resignedly. The old woman was not worth listening to any more. She peered down at the baby.
“
Good, he sleeps peacefully,
”
she said in a satisfied voice. The satisfaction was not for the infant
’s
sake, Krone knew, but for Niva
’s
. Niva was proud to have been chosen to hold the baby until he was needed in the ceremony and did not want him to embarrass her by wailing.

A dreadful woman
, Krone said to herself. 
In the old days
,
the other women would have pulled some of that self-pride from her in the Ekali.
But now it had all changed.

“
May the Goddess protect you, little one,
”
she said aloud, as Niva carried the infant away. No one else would dare to say that, she thought with satisfaction, but she was only old Krone, to whom no one paid any attention. She said the words again, to make certain the Goddess had heard. Perhaps they would help.

Outside, the people had already gathered for the ce
remony. At one end of the clearing
where they sat a large circle had been swept clean; against the backdrop of trees at the rear of the circle was a platform covered with a dark cloth that fell to the ground on all sides. It glistened still with dew, for the sun had not yet crested the
high
mountains to the east.

Niva took up her position at one edge of the circle and waited, her face solemn as well as proud. Once, she turned, frowning, as if feeling the eyes that bored into her back, then she returned to her former stance.

Lief lowered his eyes and
crawled
deeper into the bushes that concealed him. He had often noticed that animals knew when his eyes were on them; they looked up suddenly from their feeding and grew restless. It was the same with people. They did not know why they looked around them but they always did. He must be careful. He had not wanted to stare at the woman
anyway
; he had been trying to see the infant. It was very still. Had they killed it already, perhaps with too much sleeping potion? What would happen then to their plan?

He thrust the thought from his mind and forced himself to concentrate. He must do everything right; all of them must if the plan was to succeed.
Mara and
Hular
had
arrived only the day before
and
had finally found him and
Zena
in their hiding place
.
Mara had come instead of Durak, who had stayed with Rofina. Lief was not sure why.
There had been no time for explanations.
There had been no time for practice either, only time for
Zena
to explain her plan and for all of them to get ready. They must do it perfectly the first time, or the child would die.
T
he
y might die as well
, Lief thought with a spurt of fear
,
more for
Zena
than
himself
.
So much depended on her.

Squinting across the clear
ed area
, he tried to spot Mara and Hular in the bushes on the other side, but they were invisible. He saw Brulet
disappear into
the woods at the back of the clearing
, though
. In her hands were pieces of wood and a large cone made of birch bark. Lief checked his own.

The drums beat steadily. The rhythm was different from the
first
ceremony he had witnessed. It was
less
insistent, softer, calmer. Th
is
sound made him sad, or perhaps the sadness came from the flutes. The
y
soared to high sweet notes
that quickly
sank back to the same
melancholy refrain. The people
’s
faces reflected the sounds. They were still and patient, resigned to what would happen, but Lief could not see excitement or even fear. Perhaps that would come later.

Korg entered, not dramatically as before, but with slow, sensuous leaps that moved one into another like ripples in the water.
His movements were graceful, but to Lief they were also sinister. It
was in the out-thrust hips, the face contorted by the effort to rise into the air that seemed no effort at all, in the elongated fingers that seemed to clutch at everything with demented energy. So they would clutch at a struggling infant, Lief thought grimly. He strengthened his grip on his slingshot. The stones were beside him, ready for use.

Could they really stop this terrible ceremony? It seemed ridiculous to him suddenly that a young and inexperienced woman like
Zena
could save the infant with the help of a few friends. Worse, he had probably put her in danger by helping her.
He knew what might
happen
to them if they failed
.

The Leader entered the circle, and Lief
’s
attention snapped back to the present. As before, the
tall man
stood perfectly still until Korg executed a final leap and prostrated himself, hands extended toward the
Leader
’s
feet.

Long moments passed
in silence. Then
the Leader began to speak,
his voice as
compelling
as it had been the first time Lief had heard it. In powerful tones, he invoked
the Great Spirit and
described the horrors that would come i
f the child were not returned. Th
is time, th
e magnificent voice had no effect on Lief; he was too busy waiting for the signal. The villagers listened raptly, though, their faces absorbed, their heads nodding in agreement
.

“
Remember  that this child is born not of man but of spirit,
”
the Leader reminded them.
“
It does not feel as a child does but as a spirit feels, glad to be released into a realm that is truly its own. Do not feel pity but gladness that it should be so.
”

He believes it himself, Lief thought, watching the Leader
’s
earnest face. He
believes what he is saying
, truly believes it
. He had not realized this before. The thought distracted him and he was unprepared for the jolt of terror that plunged through him as the dark-haired woman walked slowly to the platform and placed the infant on it. The baby stirred. So it was alive. Lief breathed a sigh of relief
,
but his tension increased.