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

by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

"But how will that help to keep peace in the tribe?" Pulot was confused.

  Zena smiled. "It helps because once we learn that no person is permitted to force another to bend to his will, or hers, in any way, there is no reason to fight or to disagree. Instead, we must learn to respect the thoughts and beliefs of others.

  "To choose only one mate is a very serious decision," she continued, "one that must be considered with great care before it is done. It might be best to have a special ceremony in which the two people promise each other to keep the agreement between them. Then, they will understand how serious is the commitment."

  "I do not think many will choose such a commitment," Lilan commented. "Most of us will continue to follow the rules of Akat laid down long ago, and that is good. If everyone chose only one mate, some would always be left out.

  "Besides," she continued, "it is better for the children if most of the women have many mates. Then we are not certain which of the men has helped to give life to each child, and many men will help with the child instead of just one."

  "That is true," Gunor agreed. "It is better when all the men are like fathers to all the children. I, too, think the new way is right only for a few, like Zena and Torlan."

  The others nodded in agreement and began to discuss these ideas among themselves. Zena scanned the faces. Rofal looked relieved, as if talking about his problems with Akat had helped, but Sarila's face was strained. Zena's eyes met Lilan's, and a thought flashed between them. They must speak to Sarila, learn what was wrong. Katalin looked unhappy, too, Borg withdrawn. He had hardly spoken to Katalin since his return, had avoided her as much as he could. Zena hoped her idea might help them to come together again in peace.

  She sighed, aware that she was very tired. She forced herself to speak again. The tribe must know all that the Mother had told her.

  "We will discuss this again, many times, but now there is something else I must say," she told the others, and they heard an unaccustomed note of grimness in her voice. "I have not spoken before because I did not know how I could help, but now I must."

  The clearing was suddenly very quiet as everyone waited to hear what she had to say. Zena spoke into the silence.

  "Long ago," she began soberly, "the Goddess warned us that if men were in charge of Akat, some might come to believe that they owned a woman and the young she bore. Worse, some might even come to believe they could own the Mother's earth itself, and would fight to possess all that they could."

  She stopped for a moment, and when she resumed, the words came fast, as if she wanted to get rid of them, did not wish to speak them but knew she must.

  "What the Mother has helped me to understand is that this danger can also come from a woman - a woman like Veeta, and that the problem is no longer just with Akat, or even just with the belief of some people that they can own the land and all that lives or grows upon it. There is a new danger, one that threatens us now. It comes not from the men with knives who are so brutal, but from the woman, Veeta. She is the one we must fear; I am certain of it, because she wishes to own not just the land but people, people like ourselves, The Mother People, who are different. She will try to destroy us, not by killing us, but by making us like her in some way I cannot imagine. We will not be as we are any more, but other, so that we no longer know the Mother, will no longer know even ourselves, or what is right and wrong. Nor is Veeta alone. As the years pass, others like her will emerge and wreak their destruction on anyone who seems different to them, or who refuse to obey. This I cannot change, but I must keep these things from happening to us now. That is the task the Goddess has given me and somehow I must do it..."

  Her voice broke; then more words burst forth. "The danger is all around us, though I do not know from whence it comes, only that I can feel it. These last days when I have been so happy I have tried to forget, but I know it is still there, gathering around us, waiting..."

  She stopped again, exhausted. For a long time no one spoke or moved. Finally, Zena herself broke the silence. "There is a good thing I can say as well," she told them, trying to smile. "The Goddess has shown me the way we must go to our new home."

  She closed her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "We cannot go there, though, not yet," she said softly. "This I know absolutely. We must face the danger here; I must face it, this evil that is all around us. If I do not, it will follow us always, follow us to our new home, and that must not be allowed. I have seen what it can do, seen the children's faces turn from kindness to brutality as they learn the ways of violence. I have tried all this time to hold the evil in, keep it from escaping, but now I cannot. It is as if Akat, the joy I have felt with Torlan, has filled me, and I can no longer hold the evil..."

  She broke off abruptly. Her face cleared, and the next words were spoken strongly, with great passion.

  "That is as it should be," she stated. "The time has come to face the evil. It is with us now, I can feel it all around us, and I know I must stop it so it can go no further. That is what the Goddess wishes me to do and I will do it. I do not yet know how, but I know it will be done."

  Silence came again. To find words after such revelations, such thoughts, seemed impossible. Finally, some of the people began to murmur among themselves, wanting to reassure each other, to find courage and hope.

  "We must not forget the new home that waits for us," Lilan said softly. "The Mother would not have given Zena a vision of this home, even shown her how to find it, unless She intended us to go there. And once we are there, the danger will surely be past."

  "That is so," Zena agreed. "In our new home we will be free of violence for many years; of this I am certain too."

  She sighed deeply and turned to Torlan. "I am very tired," she confessed. "To think of such things is hard.”

  "Then you must go back to the fire and rest," Torlan replied promptly. "The others will understand." Oblivious to watchers, he kissed her cheek, then he lifted her into his arms to carry her the short distance from the circle of stones to the fire.

  "Lupo!" Zena said suddenly. "Where is Lupo?"

  Alarm filled Torlan's face. "I saw her when we began the council, but I have not seen her since," he answered. "Perhaps she is feeding nearby. I will look."

  He had taken only a few steps when Katli approached, smiling broadly. She had seen Lupo slip away earlier, and had guessed the reason. Only something very important would make Lupo leave Zena.

  "Lupo cannot come just now," she told them. "She is very busy!"

  Zena stared at her, then understanding came. "The little ones!" she exclaimed. "Is that what has happened?"

  "Indeed it has," Katli said as proudly as if she had arranged the birth herself. "Three beautiful pups."

  Everyone crowded around, wanting to know more and to see the pups, but Katli would not let anyone go near Lupo. "She is tired right now, just as Zena is tired. We must let them both rest. Tomorrow, we will see if Lupo wants others nearby."

  Zena lay down to sleep, content to follow Katli's advice. Katli would watch over Lupo, so she need not worry. She woke only once, when she felt a moist tongue on her face. Lupo had come to check on her, to reassure her. She reached out to stroke the wolf, but Lupo had already left to return to her pups.

  The next day, Zena visited Lupo in the den she had prepared under a deep ledge not far from the clearing. Lupo greeted her anxiously, as if apologizing for leaving her. “Do not worry, Lupo,” Zena reassured her. Your little ones need you most now, and I am not far away. Besides, the pups will soon be coming with you.”

  Her words proved true. By the time a full cycle of the moon had passed, the three small wolves were crawling everywhere, chewing furs, tumbling and leaping noisily through the clearing, following the children, with Lupo barking sharp commands for them to return and the children scooping them up so they would not become lost. Soon, though, they were roaming more freely, and even before they were full grown, they had taken on the task of guarding the children who had once watched out for them.
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  It was a peaceful interlude, one they often thought of in the time that followed. They had need, then, of such memories, as the violence Zena had long feared finally erupted.

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  Balinor turned her head, hearing a noise behind her. Katalin had asked her to watch the children while she ran back for her basket. Had she returned already?

  But it was not Katalin; it was a man, leaning above her, his arms outstretched. Before she could see more, a garment came over her head and the man lifted her up in front of him. They were on top of something, she realized, an animal she thought by the smell. It quickly began to move. Balinor opened her mouth to scream but the man clapped a strong hand over her face before the sound could emerge, and then she could hardly breathe...

  Fear poured into her body. Where was he taking her, and what had happened to the children? She heard a muffled howl that she thought came from Miko, Katalin's child, and the sound of other animals pounding behind her. Maybe the children been taken in the same way. Maybe they had taken Katalin, too. She could not have been far away.

  The garment was lifted from Balinor's head and she opened her mouth wide, more to take in breath than to scream. The man's hand came over her lips again, and his eyes warned her. She had better be quiet, lest he...

  She did not want to think what he might do. Closing her lips tightly, she nodded. She was on a horse, she realized, now that she could see. Borg's story of the boy, Nordal, who rode a horse, came back to her. But this was a man, not a boy.

  She tried to turn, frantic to know if the children were on the horses behind her, but the man's body blocked her view. And then all her attention was absorbed in staying in place as the horse gathered speed and the ride became rougher. The horse ran and ran, bumping and swaying, and the man's arm was so tight around Balinor she thought her chest would break, and then, abruptly, they stopped. The man slid off, dragging her with him.

  Three other men, each carrying one of the children, jumped from horses. Balinor saw Miko's face screw up as he prepared to utter a loud scream of indignation, as he often did. She hushed him quickly. "Do not scream, Miko. We must be quiet. The men will hurt you if you scream."

  Miko subsided and tried to run to her, but the man holding him picked him up roughly and walked toward a shelter. It was big, Balinor saw, made of long poles with skins stretched around them. Rocks and brush were piled around the edges, and animal bones framed the entrance. Two other men stood just outside the entrance, guarding it.

  The man who had taken her grabbed her hand and pulled her to the shelter after Miko. The other children followed. All of them were thrust through the entrance. Balinor stood still, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom. The first thing she saw was a low fire in the center, and smoke curling up through a hole in the roof. Then she saw the children, and her eyes widened in horror. There were so many of them, more than she could count. Their eyes were sad, tear stained, and they were completely silent.

  Finally a girl rose and came close to her. "Are you Mother People?" she whispered. Balinor nodded. "We are all Mother People," the girl continued, "but they do not let us speak. They hit us if we do."

  Miko began to whimper. "I want my mother," he told Balinor.

  Balinor scooped him into her arms. "You must be very quiet," she said. "That is how we must be in this place. Soon, I am sure Katalin will come to get us, but for now we must be quiet."

  He laid his head on her shoulder, too tired to object. The other children clustered around her, clinging to her legs.

  Another child entered, a child who limped. Perhaps this was Nordal, Balinor thought, the boy Borg had met.

  The girl confirmed her guess. "This is Nordal," she told Balinor, still in a whisper. "He is teaching us to speak like them. If we use their words we are allowed to talk."

  "He tries to help us," she added. "He brings us food."

  Balinor approached him. "I am Balinor," she said, using the words Borg had taught them long ago.

  Nordal nodded, surprised to hear her use his words. Balinor tried desperately to think of words to ask why they were here, but all she could manage was "why?"

  Nordal looked down at his feet. "My mother wishes it," he answered finally.

  Balinor caught the word mother. "Your mother?" she asked.

  He nodded and opened his mouth as if to speak, then his lips closed and he did not. Instead, he limped out again, but quickly returned with some food and water. The two men helped him carry it in. It was not much, Balinor thought grimly - just some dirty looking scraps of meat and thin gruel in big wooden bowls, which were passed around from child to child. Each took only three swallows, as if they had been trained to do this. By the time the gruel reached the last child, none was left. Her eyes filled with tears, but she did not protest.

  "I will get more," Nordal said, and went out again. This time, he returned with the bowls filled to the brim. When the men who had helped him left, he held up four fingers. The girl who had not had any took four swallows, then three, then the bowls were passed around again until they were empty.

  "That means Veeta is not here," the child who had first approached Balinor whispered to her. "She would not have allowed us to have more."

  Veeta! Balinor shivered, remembering Zena's words.

  Her attention was diverted by Nordal. He sat down near the fire and began to point to objects in the shelter, saying a word for each. The children clustered around him, repeating the word in a chorus. When he had run out of objects, Nordal tried to make pictures with his hands. These were hard to guess; finally, he took a stick and made pictures in the dirt, all the while looking fearfully toward the entrance.

  "They do not like pictures," Balinor's informant told her. "They become very angry. They do not like these, either." She pulled out a Goddess figure but concealed it again quickly.

  She was just in time. Two men had entered the shelter. Each rounded up a group of four children and pushed them out the entrance. Soon, the group returned and the men took four more children. "To use the bushes," one of them whispered as he came in. When it was Balinor's turn, she took Miko and the two other children with her. To her relief, no one objected that they went together.

  When everyone was inside again, the men closed a flap over the entrance, shutting out the pale light that still remained in the sky. Silently, the children lay down around the fire. A faint murmur of whispers arose here and there as they comforted each other in the darkness, and Balinor heard the sound of stifled sobs, then silence came again. She lay down with Miko curled against her, the other children pressing close, and tried to think of something good so she would not be afraid. They had each been given a warm fur, she told herself. That was good, since the nights were very cool. They had been fed, too.

  Taking a deep breath, she decided to sleep, so she would stay strong. She was the oldest and the other children depended on her. She could not let them down. Despite her resolve, she felt tears prick behind her eyelids. Balinor squeezed them back firmly. Katalin had asked her to look after Miko and the others, and she must do it. Crying would not help. Instead, she should try to think of a way to escape. Or maybe Katalin would find her. Surely, she would. Katalin was good at tracking.

  Still, she realized sorrowfully, none of the other children had escaped. Some of them had been here for a long time, the girl had told her when they were settling for the night, and still no one had come to rescue them. Perhaps there were too many guards. Perhaps no one would ever come.

  Another thought made her skin prickle with horror. Maybe Katalin was dead. Maybe the others were dead, too, killed by these men, as her tribe mates had once been killed. The smells, the noises in the cave where she and Lotar had hidden long ago came back to her, and she shivered with fear. What would she do if all of them were dead?

  The tears poured out then despite all her efforts to stop them. She wept until a sound aroused her - a snuffling noise and a low whine, from just outside the shelter. Balinor's eyes op
ened wide. The pups! It must be the pups! They must have followed. Perhaps they had hidden, afraid of the horses, the strangers, but then they had followed.

  Hope flared inside her. If the pups knew where she was, they might go back for help. They were very smart. Or Lupo might come to look for her pups, and then Torlan or someone else would follow. Maybe, after all, the others were not dead. Maybe they were already coming to rescue her and the children.

  The pups were whimpering more loudly now, and she heard scratching noises, as if they were trying to dig their way in to the shelter. She sat up, alarmed. If the men heard them, they might try to hurt them, even kill them. But what could she do?

  A thought came to her. Zena was always telling Lupo: "get Torlan", and the pups heard this signal constantly. Maybe they had learned what it meant, and if they had, they might leave and go back for Torlan. She could try, at least.

  She crept quietly over to the place where she had heard the noises and knelt so that her mouth was right at the edge of the shelter. "Get Torlan!" she said in a strong whisper, over and over again. More whines came, not as loud but more excited.

  "Get Torlan!" she said again. She heard an excited yelp, then complete silence, and then the sound of feet padding softly away.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Katalin burst into the clearing. "Miko!" she screamed, her voice shrill with fear. "He is gone! Balinor and the other children, too. They have vanished!"

  The others came running. She had left the children with Balinor, who adored children and was old enough now to care for them, Katalin explained, while she ran back to the clearing for a basket, but when she returned they had disappeared. She had called and searched everywhere, but they were gone.

  "Were there tracks?" Borg had appeared, and his face was ashen. He still avoided Katalin, but he had spent many hours with Miko and cared deeply for him. To lose the child as well as Katalin would be more than he could bear.

  "I could not find any," Katalin said. "No animals, anyway, only the pups."