CIRCLES IN THE SKY (The Mother People Series Book 2)

by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

  Unexpectedly, Zena giggled. After a moment Lotar began to laugh as well. Borg frowned, not understanding what was funny. But of course, he probably did not say the names right.

  "He knows our names, even if he has them wrong," Lotar said when he had stopped laughing. "How does he know our names?"

  "He said Marita, too," Zena reminded him. "Do you suppose Marita sent him to find us?" She came closer to the big man. Lotar pulled her back and stood in front of her again. Zena clasped his hand reassuringly and took another step, staring all the while into Borg's eyes.

  She was a strange girl, he thought, watching her. Though her body was small, her face had the expression of an adult, as if she knew much more than a girl could know.

  "I have seen you before," she announced. The words meant nothing to Borg, but he seemed to feel their message. A spurt of recognition flashed into his mind but then vanished again. He shook his head, perplexed. He did not know this girl but she made him feel as if he did.

  Zena continued to stare at him, then she turned to Lotar, her face serious. "He is all right," she told him. "I can tell this from his face. Besides, I think I have seen him before, in a dream. I cannot remember now what the dream told me, but I think he helped us."

  "You have an awful lot of dreams," Lotar answered dubiously. "Are you sure you have the right one?"

  Zena did not answer but instead questioned Borg. "Marita? Has Marita sent you?"

  The big man nodded strenuously and pointed up the hill. "Marita," he repeated.

  "See? Marita has sent him, so he must be all right. Probably she is worried because we have been away so long."

  Zena started up the hill at a run. Lotar darted back to the stream to gather up the watercress they had collected, and followed quickly. Within minutes, they reached the top of the hill where Marita was waiting.

  Her eyes went round with wonder when she saw them. She pulled them into her arms, unable to believe they were once again safely with her. Balinor crowded in with them, her flushed face alight with happiness.

  "You have found them so fast," Marita said to Borg. "How did you find them so fast?"

  "We were all right," Lotar protested. "We were only in the stream, gathering cress." He held out the bundle of shining green leaves.

  Marita clapped a hand to her forehead. "You were in the stream! That was why you did not answer. I should not have been so frightened. Still, I am very grateful to this man who was so kind and found you for me."

  Pulling herself away from the children, she went to Borg. "I thank you, the Mother thanks you," she told him. "I think perhaps the Mother meant for you to come to us."

  "Zena said she has seen him in one of her dreams," Lotar reported. "She sees most things that way," he added, in case Marita did not know.

  Marita looked at Zena, saw her nod affirmatively. "Then I am certain of it," she said. "And if he is to help us, we must help him. Perhaps we could feed him? Let us go back and see what we have gathered."

  She motioned to Borg to come with them. When the big man protested, she went to him and pulled him along in a good-natured fashion.

  "You are one with us now," she said, and again Borg felt an unexpected spurt of pleasure. The girl made him feel uneasy, with her knowing face, but he liked the old woman. She reminded him of his mother, who had been dead for many years, and that was a good feeling.

  Marita directed while Zena and Lotar made a fire. They roasted some nuts Lotar had found earlier, and Borg contributed a big hare he had caught and stashed away. They ate the watercress, and some of the berries as well.

  "You must tell us your name," Marita said. The big man looked confused. To explain, Marita pointed to each of the others and gave their names, then pointed to him.

  "Borg," he told her. "I am Borg."

  "I hope you will stay with us, Borg," Marita answered. "We need you very badly."

  He nodded, and she was certain he had understood the message, if not the words, for when darkness came he did not retreat into the trees but instead sat down just outside Zena's shelter. "I watch," he said firmly.

  "Thank you," Marita replied, and her body sagged with relief. Guarding Zena and the children all by herself weighed heavily on her, and to know that Borg was sitting right beside the cave felt wonderful. For the first time in many nights, she slept soundly and without fear.

  Borg's night was less peaceful. Twice, he heard low voices in the trees at the bottom of the hill. At first, he hoped Katalin and Torlan had come, but then he realized the words were like his own. Could some of the men have escaped the earthquake? He did not move to investigate, lest the men see him and be alerted to the hiding place that sheltered the old woman and the children. Later, when there had been no noise for a long time, he crept cautiously down the hill, his big feet soundless against the hard earth. He scoured the woods, the area around the stream, but saw no one. Still, the knowledge that the men had been near here made him nervous. He chopped branches from bushes and trees with the axe he always carried and laid them by the opening to the cave. If the men came again, he could at least hide the entrance.

  The girl seemed to sense his uneasiness. As soon as she awoke, she scrambled out of the cave and came to him. "I saw men - bad men," she told him seriously. The words had no meaning for him, but Marita heard, and fear leaped into her face. Trying to make him understand, she pointed to him and made others like him with her hands, then pointed to Zena's head. In response to words from Marita, Zena closed her eyes and put her hands beneath her cheek as if she were sleeping.

  Borg frowned. That was strange indeed, that the girl had dreamed of the men even as he had heard them. He shivered involuntarily, then the answer came to him. Of course; she had heard the voices, and that had caused her to dream of men.

  Marita was looking at him anxiously. He nodded, and pointed to the woods, making the man shape with his hands.

  "We must leave right away," Marita said. Then she frowned. Where were they to go? If only Katalin were here! She was the only one who knew how to find the rest of the tribe, who had traveled south two moons ago to begin the long search for a safe new home. Katalin had gone with them, but then she had come back to lead Zena and the others to their tribe-mates. They were waiting near some marshes beyond a big river, Katalin had said, unable to go further because of the wetness.

  There was little chance they could find the marshes without Katalin to lead them, Marita reflected, but they could at least go south, as the others had. Besides, that would take them still further from the cold and the men with knives. And if by the Mother's grace Katalin was alive, she would travel that way, too.

  "We will go south," she said, pointing in that direction so Borg would understand.

  The big man hesitated. He understood her, but he did not want to leave. Then he might never find Katalin. Perhaps, though, these people had some idea where she was.

  "Katalin?" he asked in his gruff voice.

  Marita looked astonished, and the boy, Lotar, came running up to him. "Have you seen her? How do you know her name?"

  "I wish to have her," he said, holding out his arms as if enclosing a woman.

  Lotar reacted with fury. “I think this is the man who claimed Katalin," he said indignantly.

  Marita took his hand in hers. "That may be so, Lotar, but he has also helped us, so there must be good in him as well. And he may know something of Katalin, what happened to her. If this man escaped the earthquake, perhaps Katalin did also."

  "I think she escaped by herself," Lotar replied stubbornly. "And I know she did not like him, because I heard her shouting at him."

  Borg felt their eyes on him and flushed uncomfortably. He had done nothing wrong, only claimed a woman. There was no harm in that. He had not hurt her. And she had seemed to like him. After that first night, she had not objected to his attentions. But then she had run away - run away with Torlan, whom he had helped. He had a score to settle with that one!

  Anger filled him, and he uttered a loud oath.
The others jumped away from him, but Zena came closer and looked piercingly into his face. She saw the anger, but she was certain she saw kindness as well. The mixture confused her. Borg was one of the men with knives, so he must be bad. But he had helped them, so he must be good. Could a man be good and bad at the same time? She would have to ask the Mother, she decided.

  Uncomfortable with her direct scrutiny, Borg tried to look away and found he could not. The eyes were very penetrating. Finally Zena sighed and turned to the others.

  "He wants very badly to find Katalin, I think," she told them, "and if that is so, he must know that she is still alive."

  "Where is Katalin?" she asked him, spreading her arms wide to try to show what she meant.

  Borg shrugged. "She ran away," he told them, and made running motions with his fingers. "She comes here, I think," he added, making his running fingers land beside him on the ground.

  So Katalin had escaped! Marita was delighted, but now she could not think what to do. Should they stay here a few more days, hoping Katalin would find them, or should they leave right away? If Borg had heard voices, there must be men nearby, and they were not likely to be as kind as Borg.

  The question was settled later in the day, when Borg came running up to them. "Into the cave, quickly," he hissed, pointing at the opening.

  The alarm in his voice, if not the message, was clear, and the others lowered themselves into the cave. When they were in, Borg quickly covered the opening with the branches he had laid there earlier. Then he ran into the trees to watch.

  Three men appeared - the two men who had set out to find Katalin with him, and Vetron, the leader of the band. He was instantly recognizable because of his large stature and his hair, which glowed like flame in the sunlight. Borg's lips tightened. The two younger ones he could deal with, but Vetron was dangerous. As well as hating the Mother People, he was stronger than any man Borg had ever met, and totally ruthless.

  "I heard voices in this place, I am certain of it," one of the men insisted. He was very young, and he looked frightened.

  "You are a fool," Vetron retorted. "The earthquake has killed all but ourselves. We would be dead, too, if we had not been chasing the deer just before the earthquake came. And you will be dead soon if you do not stop sniveling," he added, cuffing the young man hard across the face.

  Borg felt no pity for the sniveling youngster, only contempt. Once, he had seen him try to kill a child to impress the other men. Borg had stopped him; faced with an opponent his own size, the young man had run away in terror.

  The men moved off and he let them go. By himself, he could not challenge them.

  When he had heard nothing for a long time, he pulled off the concealing branches and signaled the others to come out. Each of them held a skin water bottle in one hand, he noticed, a basket with food in the other. They were ready to travel.

  Borg's shoulders slumped. He would have to go with them, even if that meant he never found Katalin. An old woman alone with children was at the mercy of any band of men roaming the woods. The ones from the far north, like Vetron, were the most dangerous. The men with knives, these people called them. The name was apt.

  Katalin was in danger from them, too, he realized abruptly. If they found her, the men would not kill her, but they would take her by force.

  It was not right that men should prey on women that way, he thought angrily. The realization confused him. Whenever he had wanted a woman, he had just taken her. That was what a man was supposed to do. And women were supposed to do what men told them. But should they be always afraid? He shook his head hard in frustration, so that his light hair flew in all directions. Such questions had never bothered him before, and he was not sure he wanted to be bothered with them now.

  They started off, walking in silence lest the three men still be in the area. Borg stayed close to Marita so he could help her. All that day and the next, they traveled slowly but steadily, finding food and water as they went. There was no sign of the men, but Borg took no chances. Whenever one of the children went out of sight, he called a warning in his gruff voice. He had the names straight now, to Zena’s and Lotar's disappointment. They had liked the joke.

  After a few days, they began to relax. To pass the time, Marita and Borg began to exchange words. Many of Borg's words were familiar to her, Marita realized. A group of people who looked like Borg and had similar words had long ago settled in the area near Zena’s tribe and her own. The Big People, they were called, and they had always been friendly. In fact, a few of the Big People had gone south with Katalin and the others. One of them was called Pulot, mother to the dead Taggart. If only they could find the rest of the tribe, Marita thought wistfully, she might see Pulot again. They had been very dear friends.

  Soon, Marita and Borg understood each other quite well. Zena and Lotar wanted to join the conversation so they learned the new words, and taught them to Balinor. They also forced Borg to learn their words by quizzing him on the names for every object they saw around them. By the time a week had passed, he could say at least some of their words and follow a little of their conversation. That was good, he realized. If he ever found Katalin again, he would know what she was saying. He still thought of her often, but at the same time he was surprisingly content with Marita and the children. The men had done nothing but fight among themselves, but here, there was peace and contentment. He liked the feeling and did not want to lose it.

  Two more days passed; then, just as the sky began to darken, Zena ran up to him and pulled at his hand. "Someone watches us," she said quietly.

  Marita laid warning fingers on Borg's arm, lest he had not understood. But as soon as Zena had spoken he, too, had felt the uneasy sensation of being watched.

  "We must hide," he whispered. Marita nodded. Keeping the children between them, they slid quietly into the woods. Borg led them deep into the dense vegetation, looking constantly over his shoulder. Finally, he stopped and pointed to a big tree.

  "Up," he whispered, pointing into the tangled branches. He boosted Zena and the two children onto a low branch; then he pushed Marita after them. She was heavy, but his arms and shoulders were thick and strong. He pulled himself up next to help her further up the tree. When he was sure they were all well-concealed, he dropped down again.

  "Wait," he told them. He crept cautiously through the woods, back the way they had come. If he could discover who was watching, he would know what to do. He slid under an overhanging branch and was just about to stand straight again when arms encircled his neck. At the same moment, hands grabbed his arms and pulled them behind him. Before he could shake himself free, his wrists were bound together and someone knocked him to the ground.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Out! We must get out!" Caught in the depths of sleep that had come only after hours of wakefulness, Katalin heard the words as in a dream. Groaning, she moved closer to Torlan but he was not there. He was above her, pulling at her arm.

  "Out!" he said again. Above his voice, Katalin heard a low rumbling that seemed to slide across the ground; after it came a momentous crash. Bits of dirt and debris rained down from the rock around her. Leaping to her feet, she followed Torlan from the cave. Just as she squeezed through the narrow opening another crash came. Abruptly, the earth rose up beneath her and propelled her headlong down the steep slope. Rocks bruised her as she tumbled first in one direction, then another, unable to stop herself as the ground continued to heave and shake. She heard Torlan shouting behind her, but then something hit her hard on the head and she ceased to hear or see at all.

  She woke to find Torlan staring down at her anxiously. “The children,” she said, “I must find the children.” Hauling herself to her feet, she tried to walk, but after two steps she swayed and crumpled to the ground.

  “Lie still,” Torlan told her. “You must lie still until you are better.”

  “I cannot lie still,” she moaned. “Rocks could have fallen on the children in the earthquake, or the men might have fou
nd them, and I must be there to help....”

  Again, she struggled to her feet, again she fell. Agony filled her. How could she help the children when she could not even stand?

  “We will look for them when the light comes again,” Torlan comforted her. Katalin held on to his hand and tried to believe.

  For two days, she kept trying to stand up long enough to walk, gritting her teeth against the pounding in her head, but each time dizziness forced her down again. Torlan brought her food, hoping to increase her strength, but eating made her nauseous. All she could do was suck at the wet mosses he gave her, to ease her thirst.

  “They will be dead before I get to them,” she muttered the next morning, furious at herself for being so weak. Later in the day, she tried again to stand and was pleased. Her head still pounded, but she was not so dizzy.

  “You are stronger," Torlan said approvingly. He handed her some tubers he had mashed and a few berries, and this time she was able to eat.

  "Where are we?" she asked, sounding more like herself.

  “Near the rock where we looked over to the caves," Torlan answered. There was anxiety in his voice and Katalin studied his face.

  "I must see," she told him firmly. She rose, very slowly, with Torlan helping, then crawled along the big rock as they had after the escape, so that no one would see her.

  One look told her there was no need to worry about the eyes of others. There were no others. The cliffs had collapsed, burying the caves, the tunnels and all who had been in them, beneath massive piles of rock. Never again would the men with knives desecrate the Mother's chamber. They were dead; all of them were dead, killed as mercilessly as they themselves had killed. The earthquake had brought justice in this way, at least.

  The men would never find Zena, either, Katalin thought with bitter satisfaction. The Mother Herself had buried Zena, deep beneath Her sacred cliff. She glanced at Torlan, saw the grimness of her own thoughts reflected in his face. Without speaking, she moved cautiously away from the big rock to lie down again.