ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) (37 page)

BOOK: ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3)
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Taking Runor from
Zena
’s
arms, he regarded her anxiously.

I think she breathes,

Zena
told him.

There was no time to examine her further.

Lief nodded, relieved, and all of them started up the hill.


The others!

Zena
asked suddenly.

Did you find the others?

Lief shook his head.

No one was in the village,

he answered.

Runor had told all of them to go to the circle of stones and stay there for two days, but I did not know that
then
and looked everywhere for them. Hular told me
.
He and Larak
stopped at the circle of stones on their way
here to look for you
, and saw the villagers there
.

Zena
frowned.

But how did the villagers know about the glacier in time? They could not see it from here.


They did not, only that Runor had told them to go to the circles of stones
and stay there
,

he answered.

These men came to look for her anyway,

he added, and
broke off as the hill became steeper, the water more fierce. It pulled forcefully at their legs, and wind sweeping down from the heights almost knocked them from their feet. They pressed on, crouching low, hauling their legs through the swollen water, filled now with debris.

A tree came charging at them. They leaped aside, all but Larak, who was not fast enough. As the swirling water dragged her into its grasp, Hular
plunged
toward her and grabbed her hand.
Another man helped him pull her out and
steadied her as she ran again. And then they were almost above the water; if they could just keep going they would soon be in the hills...

A thunderous crashing made them look toward the head of the valley to the south.

It has burst,

Lief shouted.

The whole dam has burst. Run!

More crashes came, lou
der now. Up and up they went, clawing at the ground for purchase against the slippery, rain-soaked hillside, hauling each other up again when
one of them
fell. Wrenching, dragging
sounds
joined the
cacophony
in the valley behind them, and when
Zena
turned for a moment she saw the cause. Ice - great chunks of ice careened through the woods, knocking down trees, scouring the earth of everything that lay upon it. Even boulders were caught in their destructive path. She looked away, not wanting to think of what the
torrent
of debris
might do to the village below.

How high would the
floods
reach? There was no way to tell, and so they forced themselves higher still. Finally, at the top of the lofty ridge that enclosed one side of the circle of stones, they dared to stop and look again at Runor.

“S
he breathes,

Larak confirmed,

but her breath
ing is
very shallow.

The
y
lingered for a moment to look back, where the glacier was still falling
in great chunks
. Devastation met their unbelieving eyes, utter devastation
.
A great swath of forest had been leveled; still more trees toppled noisily as they watched. Boulders
hung at crazy angles against the hillsides and were
improbably balanced on upended trees or on other overturned rocks. And everywhere huge chunks of ice littered the expanse of ravaged land they had
destroyed with their violence
. Beneath it all was the water, swirling, churning, carrying its ponderous load as easily as if the boulders and ice and trees were no more than twigs, or pebbles caught momentarily in a current, or snow crystals light as feathers.

No one spoke; there were no words for such a fury of destruction. Here, there was only rain and wetness; where the glacier fell, all they could see was a chaotic landscape of still-tumbling masses of ice and rocks and trees and the wreckage they left behind.

Lief took
Zena
’s
hand.

The village,

he said. His voice shook with an emotion she could not define.

Zena
followed his eyes reluctantly, not wanting to know. But when she looked, her heart leaped with astonished relief. The village was there! The huts were rain-soaked and littered with fallen branches, but they were intact. Even the clearing had been spared. Buried in debris, it was hardly visible, but she knew it was there.

A miracle,
she murmured to herself, and then realized it was not. The people who had first come here had known the mountains well, and had set their village well away from the path of a possible avalanche. Only Runor
’s
hut, which lay closest to the end of the valley where the glacier hung, was gone, as if a giant hand had pushed the raging water toward it and then let the deluge sink back again.

Zena
shuddered and looked the other way, toward the dense stand of woods where Korg and the Leader had built their hut. The destruction was not so bad there, though she knew it would be soon. The woods lay in the path the glacier must take as it continued its rampage. Had the two men gone there despite the threat? Or were they, too, climbing, Korg dragging the Leader up as best he could? She did not think so, though she did not know why. Something she had seen in Korg
’s
face, perhaps, some kind of resolve....

Her eye was caught by a jagged pile of ice and trees trapped by a sharp bend in the narrow ravine still further down the valley to the south. Once, the bend had enclosed a small waterfall that fell gently into a bubbling stream; now it
had formed a barrier that
trapped
the towering mass of debris
sent down
by the raging torrent. Wordless with horror, she touched Lief
’s
arm and pointed. Even as they watched, more chunks of ice, more fallen trees charged down and hung restlessly above the churning pile, pounding against it with savage strength as they sought to continue their destructive journey.

That was why the woods, the whole lower end of the valley had not yet suffered much damage, Lief realized. When the huge accumulation
of debris
finally broke free, everything below would be destroyed.

He frowned, aware of movement at the edge of the water, just below the bend. An animal, he thought. A large dark animal. Could it be a bear? But surely a bear could not make such
leaping, graceful
movements.

Zena
saw
the creature t
oo and peered into the wind, trying to identify it. And then
she
realized. It was Korg, must be Korg. No other
man
,
no
animal
,
could leap and bend in that way. Despite the sodden burden of furs that draped his slight body, the heavy mask that adorned his head, Korg whirled and jumped with manic energy, as if there were no weight to him at all. Once they saw him fall, then he was up again, leaping, prancing, twirling in the air, landing again with effortless grace. Beside him, laid majestically on the ground, his hands folded at his chest, was the motionless body of the Leader.

Neither of them spoke, only pointed. All eyes followed their fingers, watched mesmerized as Korg continued his frantic, graceful movements. On and on the dance went, and they thought he might never tire but go on leaping and twirling until the torrent of water that must surely come soon rose up to claim him.

And then he did tire. The leaps became lower, the whirls less frequent, and Korg
’s
whole body began to sag. The dance ceased and for a long moment he stood perfectly still, as if gathering the remnants of his strength. Then, with a last dramatic leap that rose higher than any before, he prostrated himself at the feet of the Leader.

Again he was still, and even from a distance they could see the heaving of his chest. Just when they wondered if he would ever move again, Korg pulled himself upright with a single effortless twist of his body. One piece at a time, he divest
ed
himself of the unwieldy skins that
had
once enclosed a living bear
.
His
motions
were slow and measured now, full of languorous grace. The mask-like head went first
;
then the paws, and
after them
the well-stitched furs that had covered his body. Carrying the heavy bundle in his arms, Korg went
to the edge of the
swirling water and stood
still, staring
into its depths.
Zena
thought he said words, though she could not hear them. After a moment
Korg’s
head came up again, proudly, defiantly
. With an abrupt movement
he raised the bearskins high in the air and threw them with fierce strength into the torrent. The furs disappeared quickly, but they saw the mask float for a moment, snout pointing up, eyes staring sightlessly, then it too was caught in the current and whirled out of sight. Korg was still again, and now
Zena
was certain he was speaking words. Perhaps, she thought, he was bidding farewell to the deity he had created.

Sadness came into her, and pity, a pity she knew Korg would have hated. She pushed it away and found compassion instead, and even admiration. Korg had tried in the only way he knew to control the demons that tormented his brother. There was nobility in him as he stood there, a
fierce
nobility she would not have expected.

And then she saw the grief. Korg turned away, his shoulders slumped and heavy now, as if he could not bear what must come next. With steps that seemed to drag him back even as they moved him forward, he approached the Leader and stood looking down at him. There was agony on his face; even from here they could all see it. Long moments passed
; finally, Korg
knelt and gathered the Leader tenderly into his arms. Half-lifting, half-dragging, he brought the inert form to the edge of the water. Again he paused and seemed to speak words
. Then
he slowly rolled his brother into the churning water.

What came next, none of them would ever forget for all the years of their lives. Korg
’s body tensed, and then he
rose into the air in a leap so high, so unlikely, that a gasp rose up from the watching people. For a long moment he seemed to hang in the wind like a great soaring bird, then his body curved forward in a long, arching fall and he plunged headfirst into the water. For a moment both men were visible, then the great pile of ice and trees broke through the b
arrier
that had constrained it, and they disappeared beneath the deluge.

 

CHAPTER
EIGH
TEEN

All through the night, the wind blew fitfully and ice and debris-laden water charged down the mountain
. Runor’s frail body
twitch
ed
restlessly, as if in rhythm with the sound
of wind and
rain and
plunging ice
,
and
her face was full of strain.
M
em
ories
crowded
into her mind, memories she
had
never
allowed
, did not want
to think of now or ever again
. Pieces of them filtered in anyway. She
saw
a
tall young man
,
watched his
lips
curve
into
a smile
and his eyes
f
ill with
ardor
as persuasive words flowed from his lips.
She saw herse
lf
smiling back
and winced even as she smiled
again.
S
he had been young then, not
nearly
so
young as him but young enough
to be enticed…

Another memory surfaced and
Runor
writhe
d
against
her pallet as if she were
once again trying to escape the man who pounced
wordlessly
on her
as she lay on her pallet all those years ago
.
He was heavy and thick,
with
arms and legs as strong as a bear, and she could not
wrench
away from him.
He had never made a sound as he raped her, not even a grunt
- not until…
.

Runor t
wisted her head back and forth to d
r
ive
the
remembrance
away.
Korg’s
face
, his probing eyes,
came insistently in its place.
She had never been afraid of any man
,
but
she
had been
afraid of Korg.
He knew her secret
s
, all of them, and
he
used his knowledge
well.
His threats had been oblique, but she had
understood.
First one daughter, then the other
.
But it was the other
warning
that had
finally
broken her. If she did not stop speaking of the Goddess, he would do to Rofina what…

Closing her eyes hard,
Runor
fought to suppress
the image that
struggled
to push through. She could not bear it, had never been able to bear it…

The heavy sensation of defeat sank anew into Runor’s body.
After that, she had not
dared
to disobey.
And so she had
lost herself,
lost the Goddess, lost everything but her life, and Mara. She
still
had Mara
.
One
daughter at
least was safe.

Her eyes flickered open, and
Mara
’s
face appeared above her
. P
anic gripped Runor.
Mara must not be here
; she
must
go away again
until the danger was past.
Runor
tried to say the words that would make Mara leave but she  was too weak, and the world of words was too far away….

She groaned without knowing she had uttered the sound.

Mara
watched her
mother
helplessly. Surely there
was
something she could
do to ease Runor
’s
anxiety, but she did not know what it might be.
Was
Runor
re-living the events of the day or dreaming of the Leader’s attack?
Or
perhaps
some terror from the past made her writhe and moan. Mara did
n
ot know.
She knew almost nothing of Runor’s past. Her mother never spoke of it.

Of course,
Mara
reminded herself, her mother did not
yet
know that Korg and the Leader were dead
,
and
she
might be afraid they could still hurt someone. Would
she
rest more easily if
Mara
whispered the information in her ear? Would she even hear, or understand if she did hear?

Mara sighed. There was no way to tell. Runor had not responded to any of them since
Zena and the others had
brought
her here. They had wrapped her in dry furs and warmed her,
massaged her throat gently with
unguents
, and
settled her
near the fire
in the rough shelter they had built
beside the circle of stones.
Throughout their ministrations, Runor had never responded to their questions, had not even opened her eyes. She seemed
totally unaware of her surroundings. Mara had never seen her mother like that before, and it was
terrifying
.

Grateful for the distraction,
Mara
turned her attention her
newborn
daughter
, who
was
whimper
ing
with hunger.
The tiny girl pulled vigorously at her breast, and Mara felt a prickle of delight course into
her body.
What a wonderful
sensation
this was, one she had missed with Mara-Sun
.
She smiled down at the eager little face, so intent on its purpose
, the miniature fingers that scrabbled against her skin
. How she looked forward to showing her mother this new baby! Rofina, she would call her, she decided, after her sister. Runor would be pleased.

The milky smell penetrated Runor
’s
consciousness
and drove the memories away. She was
thank
ful,
but lacked the strength to open her eyes
and see where the
scent
originated
, though she thought the infant might be Mara’s
.
Maybe
she would never open her eyes again, just listen to
all that
went on around her and then sink back into oblivion. It seemed a wondrous
idea
.

For a moment her body stilled and her face relaxed, then anxiety claimed her again.
Mara
should
not be here
, must not
. How could she have forgotten? But w
here was she and
how had she come to be
here
instead of under the water
?
She struggled to remember.

Perhaps, though, the Leader was not dead, and she had failed. Maybe, as she had feared, the dart had not penetrated. Or perhaps the sedative that coated it had not been strong enough to keep the Leader asleep until the water took him.
That would be worse. Then she would have failed in the task the Goddess had given her.

She must find out
, and she
must g
ive herself up
to the water if
she had killed the
Leader
.
That was the pact she had made with the Goddess, and a promise like that could not be broken.

First, though,
she must make certain Mara was safe.
W
ith an enormous effort of will,
Runor
made her eyes flutter and then open
.

Instantly, Mara
’s
worried face appeared above her
again
.
She held an infant in one arm.
So she had been right about the child. But that was worse. The infant could be killed too. She must tell Mara to leave, to take the infant and leave.

F
orcing her stiff lips to do her bidding, Runor
pushed out
words.

No!

she groaned
.

No, you must not be here!
The infant must not be here.


It is all right,

Mara soothed her.

We are safe now. The danger is gone.

“S
afe?

Runor put a hand to her throat. It was sore, so sore...

Mara slid a few drops of water deftly between her cracked lips, and Runor licked it eagerly. The water tasted fresh and pure, like life itself, she thought. Only she did not
have
the right to be alive.


Yes, we are all safe,

Mara repeated, emphasizing each word to be certain her mother understood.

The Leader is dead, and Korg, too. They cannot hurt us any more. And everyone is here
with us
, in the circle of stones, as you asked.

Her words did not soothe Runor as Mara had hoped.

No,

Runor muttered, shaking her head over and over again.

No, I have promised...

She struggled to rise.
Now that she knew the Leader was dead, she
must
go back, must give herself up to the water. Mara had said they were in the circle of stones
, too
. She could not stay in this sacred place after
she had committed
such a deed
!
But how was she to get to the water? She had no strength, no strength at all.

She must do it anyway.


Lie back and rest,

Mara soothed her again.

Later you can get up.

She pushed her mother gently back against the furs, but Runor would not be still. Over and over, she tried to rise, and she kept muttering words that Mara could barely hear. She bent closer to listen.

Then I too must be dead,

Runor was saying.

I too must die, as I promised the Goddess; for me to live is wrong....

Frightened now,
Mara
ran
to get
Zena
. Perhaps she would know what to do
.
One look at Mara
’s
distraught face brought
Zena
quickly to
Runor’s side.

They found Hular bending
over her
anxiously
.

Perhaps
we should give
Runor
a sedative
,

he
suggested.

To their surprise, Runor answered.

Yes,

she said.

A sedative, that was it.

Mara frowned.
Was Runor asking for a sedative? She never had before.
Besides, to give her one when she was barely conscious could be dangerous.

Zena
bent down beside Runor.

Runor,

she said clearly,

Runor, you must tell us what
troubles
you so we can help.


Promised Goddess,

Runor muttered, shaking her head in agitation.

I have killed....

Her voice trailed off and s
he sighed, unable to
find more words
.

Her eyes closed and s
uddenly opened again in alarm
. She
stared at
Zena
.

Zena
! No, you must
not be here
either
....

BOOK: ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3)
12.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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