ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) (6 page)

Far below clumps of huts perched near a
narrow
river that wound lazily through the valley
, many more huts than
he had seen on his last visit
, Lief saw with a frown. The
leader must have attracted still more people. The realization made him anxious, and he decided to watch
Zena
with care during this visit, although he would also take care that she
was not
aware of his
watching
. He
did not
understand th
e
decision, but
instead accepted the
fact that his instincts often knew before the rest of him what was needed.

The climb down was eas
ier
, though steep in places. Children ran out to greet them, as exuberant as children everywhere, but the adults were oddly reserved. Usually in these remote villages
traders
were welcomed with enthusiasm.

One reason for the villagers
’
reserve soon became apparent. They were preparing for a ceremony of some kind and were busy with their tasks. They
were also
uncertain
whether
their leader would welcome
traders at such a time. The traders
were not
sure either
. Perhaps
they should go into the hills for a day or two and then return.

Their indecision was relieved when a tall man with a commanding presence strode up to them. All of them knew instantly that this was the Leader.

“
Welcome,
”
he said
, his arms outstretched to confirm his words
.
“
To have you with us at this special time gives us great pleasure. The ceremony of affirmation for the Great Spirit will soon begin.
”
Zena
had never heard a voice like that before. It rang in the ears in the same way as the sounds made by a bone flute, penetrating, but beautiful as well. She was aware of wanting immediately to hear it again.

Lief watched her face and felt suddenly cold. No one could fail to be attracted to such a voice. There was no harshness in it, only joyous certainty. This leader was a man to be reckoned with, p
erhaps even admired
. His uneasiness increased.

“
We thank you,
”
Zena
answered hesitantly.
“
We would like very much to witness your ceremony, if that is what your people prefer.
”

She was about to add that they would leave and come back
later
if
that was best but changed
her mind. She wanted badly to see what happened in this ceremony. How else could she learn more about the new leader for Larak, as she had promised?

The Leader smiled at her and held out his arm, to motion her forward.
Zena
felt herself drawn toward him, though she had not consciously moved. There was no doubt he had power, she thought uncomfortably. Too much power, perhaps.

“
First,
”
the Leader said, drawing all of them along in his wake,
“
you must have food and drink to refresh you after your journey.
”
He beckoned to a woman, who came eagerly to do his bidding.
“
Bring food and drink for the strangers,
”
he told her. There was no command in his tone, only kindness. His face was kind, too,
Zena
noticed, kind and patient.

“
You must tell me of your tribe, where you come from,
”
the Leader continued, turning back to his visitors.

Hular, the most experienced of the traders, answered, and
Zena
was glad of the chance just to listen while she watched the villagers going about their tasks.
Most seemed content; others had an almost rapturous expression in their eyes
.
On one or two faces, though, she glimpsed fear.
She did not see
Mara
and decided not to ask for her. That could cause
trouble.

A movement behind the Leader made her look up. A man had emerged from the shadows of a hut and stood watching them. He was stooped and thin,
beardless,
with
pure
white hair
. U
ntil he came close,
Zena
assumed he was old. She was wrong. His face was unlined, the hair not white as she had thought, but
flaxen, so pale
the mistake was easy to make. His eyes were pale, too, as if the blueness in them had been diluted by water. A feeling of revulsion washed over her as he approached. Never had she reacted that way to a person, and she was astonished.

Lief noticed the pale eyes
too,
and remembered the woman he had spoken to in the woods while he was traveling. Hers had been the same. Could she be
the sister of
this man? The
uneasiness he had
felt then returned.

“
It is time,
”
the pale man said
to the Leader. He did not greet the visitors or even look at them, but Lief was certain that they had been well studied, their faces memorized.

“
Then I must come,
”
the Leader answered genially.
“
Korg does not let me forget my duties,
”
he added to the others with a smile.
He rose to join Korg and placed a friendly arm around the smaller man
’s
shoulders. Lief thought he saw Korg flinch but it wa
s such a tiny reaction he
could not
be sure. The Leader
seemed not to
notice
,
nor did he
remove his arm
as they moved away
.

The woman
came
with food and drink.
“
If you will
follow
when you have finished, I will show you where the ceremony takes place,
”
she said in a low voice.

“
You should wear these,
”
she added, handing a dark scarf to
Zena
and Sorlin, the other woman who had come.
“
It is the custom here.
”
She waited patiently while they refreshed themselves
; then she helped
Zena
and Sorlin put on their scarves
and
led them to a clearing
.

At one end was an area of bare well-swept
earth
, roughly circular; behind it was a backdrop of thick, low-branched trees. The villagers had already gathered and were sitting on the ground
at the edge of the swept area
, murmuring quietly
, their faces expectant
.
After a while, a hush descended on the waiting group, and silence came. Once, a baby cried, but was instantly shushed by its mother.

Gradually, sounds began to emanate from the woods behind the circle of dirt. They were deep, repetitive, with a booming quality the visitors could
not
identify. Faint at first, they grew stronger and stronger, more and more insistent, and the villagers
’
bodies began to move to their rhythm. The booms came louder, faster; now they were impossible to ignore, and
Lief and
Zena
felt their own bodies begin to move. Faster still, louder still, came the rhythmic pounding, until finally it reached a frantic crescendo that hurt the ears; then, very slowly, it tapered off until all they could hear were the hints of sound that had come in the beginning. And then, abruptly, there was nothing.

The silence was absolute. Tension built among the waiting people;
Zena and Lief
could feel it, almost taste it. Moments passed, then more moments. The faces were taut with expectation, almost with apprehension, but still no one moved; no one seemed even to breathe.

Just when it seemed
that the clearing would explode with the strain of waiting
,
a figure e
rupted into
it
with such speed
that Zena’s heart pounded
in
alarm.
Wit
h long, graceful leaps, it swirled and gyrated around the circl
e of dirt. It
had the
face of a bird
but the
body of a man
. Naked
save for a cloth wound tightly around its loins, its hairless skin gleamed white, almost translucent, in the soft evening light. The figure moved as if it had no bones, only fluid, rippling muscles that
did not
know the normal boundaries of strength or rigidity, so that they could propel it into the air in impossible bounds or mould it into positions no man could assume.

So fixated were all eyes on the figure, with its lithe form and intense movements that no one saw the Leader
enter
the circle
. He simply
materialize
d
in its center and stood there
, still as stone, while the cavorting figure leaped around him. His eyes were closed, his face raised to the sky, and his hands were held in front of his chest, palms together, fingers extended at an angle toward the crowd.

The drumming sound came again, low at first, then louder, as the prancing figure continued its
gyrations
. Another sound joined it, and this one they recognized. Deep in the woods, someone played a flute. The notes rose and fell, beautiful in tone, even more compelling than the drumming. Their ears could not escape them any more than their eyes could escape the dancing figure. Faster and faster it
whirled
, higher and higher it leaped until the leaps were so high
Zena
thought it truly must be bird, not man. No man could jump so far from the ground, hang suspended in the air and then land as if on a cloud instead of the hardness of earth. But it was a man; she was sure it was
. She
thought, too, that it must be Korg.

When the figure slowed, she was certain. The
dance
change
d character
as she watched
. B
efore,
it
had been graceful in
its
intensity, magnificent to see, but as the
movements
slowed, the figure
seemed to i
nvest
them
with savagery
.
The revulsion
Zena
had felt earlier returned. Each gesture was exaggerated
,
drawn out; there was cruelty in them somehow, and the leaps were twisted instead of fluid, as if something twisted in Korg
’s
mind had come into them and contaminated them. Images of pain came into
Zena
’s
mind and she
was
suddenly
afraid
, threatened by the malevolence that seemed to emanate from the gyrating figure. Lief watched her face and felt her fear, as if it had come into him instead.

And all the time, the Leader stood perfectly still, as if rooted to the ground, like a huge tree that could not fall, would never fall. The contrast was extraordinary; the tall, commanding immobility of one, the insistent, almost obscene movements of the other, smaller figure that seemed never to stop.

And then it did stop. The whirling creature executed one last leap straight into the air and fell prostrate at the feet of the Leader. It lay there as if broken, its arms extended toward the still form above it, its bird-like face cast in the dirt. Abruptly, all was silent once again; the booming noises stopped, the flute, too. Even the birds kept silence. It was as if everything, all the creatures of the forest and the skies as well as the people, were waiting for something
else
to happen, something profound, something that would change them so that they would never be the same again. Lief tried to pull his eyes away and watch
Zena
again, but he could not.

Long moments passed and nothing moved. Then, very slowly, the Leader lowered his arms and
spread them wide.
He held them
out
there, immobile, waiting. All eyes were on him
now
, all breath suspended, as the people waited with him.

Suddenly, with a dramatic gesture,
t
he
Leader
brought his arms up in a great sweeping arc that seemed to encompass the prostrate figure at his feet, the clearing and everyone in it, the earth below him and the sky above. His voice carved into the silence, and their breath caught in their throats at the sound.