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

by JOAN DAHR LAMBERT

  The words she had spoken before were not true, she realized suddenly. Veeta was more than just a woman who had never known the meaning of love and so had turned to revenge. She was also the face of evil the Goddess had shown them, so they would know what it was, the shapes it could take, so they would know how easily evil could be used to harm many people if it was combined with power, the power Veeta had wanted so badly. She was gone, but one day others like her would emerge. Their faces swam before Zena, men mostly, but sometimes a woman. Each face was different, but in one way they were all the same. Each pair of eyes was filled with a terrible confidence that only they were right, that it was right that others obey them, that there was no other right than that which they proclaimed, that even the destruction, the killing, was right because it was done in the name of the one they worshipped. Nowhere was there wisdom or compassion, only the lust for power and an endless capacity to deceive not just other people but themselves through the power of their persuasion. That was their other potent weapon: persuasion, the ability to make others take up knives for their cause. Over and over they would come, wielding their knives and their convincing words, and there would be no way to stop them, only to endure...

  Zena’s eyes closed as the people around her, the fire and the clearing swam away from her vision. Now all she could see were the knives and the terrible, confident eyes of the people who wielded them…

  Torlan grabbed her hand. "Zena," he said urgently, "Zena, you are here now, with us. Veeta is gone. That is what you must think of. We must not grieve now for what could one day come to pass, but celebrate, thank the Mother that all is well with our tribe."

  Zena looked up at him. Slowly, her eyes focused on his face, and the images began to fade. "You are right," she murmured faintly. "Yes, you are right." She sat very still and forced her eyes back to the clearing, to the children who were laughing and playing as if nothing terrible had ever happened to any of them, to the wolves, lolling peacefully in the shade, then to the faces of the adults, serene now that peace and safety had been restored. She thought of the little one growing inside her, of the journey they were about to take. Gradually, the horror left her face.

  "You are right," she said again, more firmly this time. "It is time to celebrate, not fear for the future."

  She smiled at him, and for the first time in many months, Torlan heard a note of pure happiness enter her voice. "Tomorrow, we will gather in the circle of stones and thank the Mother from our hearts for Her help. And then - "

  "And then," Torlan interrupted, once again reading her mind, "we will set out on our journey, the journey to our new home."

  *******************

  The day they left was warm and fair, so were the days that followed. Slowly, the landscape changed, and as it did, the walking became easier. The rocky slopes and dense woods of the area where they had lived gave way to rolling meadows and forests with big arching trees, and the swamps to the south dried up and disappeared. Berries and grains and tubers were plentiful, and there were many streams with clear, fresh water. The children scampered around them as they traveled, gathering stones to mark their trail. The three wolf pups went with them, always on guard even as they frolicked alongside the children. It was as if the Mother Herself was blessing this journey, Zena thought, making sure all went well.

  In the evenings they sat around the fire while Marita told them stories. "It was not always so easy," she said one night after a particularly beautiful day of travel. "Long ago, another Zena took her people on a long journey, and they came to a place that was so hot they had to open their mouths wide and pant to breathe. Zena led them up into the high plateaus around this hot valley so they could walk where the air was cooler, but each time the land suddenly dropped away and they could go no further. Over and over, they had to go back. Still, they did not give up, because Zena had been given a vision of a lush and beautiful valley where they were to live, and she knew that one day they would find it."

  "Did they find it?" The children's voices were eager.

  Marita smiled. "Indeed they did, but I will tell that part of the story tomorrow. Now, it is time for sleep."

  There was a chorus of disappointed sighs, but the children did not protest further. Already, their eyes were heavy. The days were tiring, but also full of adventure, and they were happy to sleep so the next day would come faster.

  "It is strange to think that just like the Zena I spoke of, we are setting out to find a great body of water," Marita mused, when the children were settled. "As well as the lush valley, she had a vision of water that went as far as the eye could see, and that was what they found. From there, our ancestors spread across the Mother's earth, and that is how we came to our home in the big caves."

  "Perhaps it is the same body of water," Lilan commented. "I remember the old stories told of white sand and huge creatures leaping from this water."

  That would be fine indeed, Zena thought, to rediscover one of the original homes of their ancestors! She had not seen white sand in any of her visions, but she had seen cliffs that looked white in the sunlight, rising up from the great body of water that lay near the field with the standing stones.

  "We will look for the white sand," she said. "I have not seen it in my visions, but I have seen white cliffs above the water - not white exactly, but very pale."

  She rubbed her belly gently. Her greatest hope was to find their new home before the little one came, so she could give birth in this sacred place.

  Marita saw the gesture and understood. "The other Zena was also carrying her first child," she reminded Zena. "And she found the valley she sought before it was born, so no doubt you will, too," she added stoutly, wanting to reassure Zena.

  Lilan nodded, but she still worried. To discover that Zena could actually carry a child had been a great relief, but now she was concerned that the birth would be difficult. She had examined Zena and cared for her through the pregnancy, and thought there would be no problems, but until it happened she could not be sure.

  Zena herself was not concerned. "If the Mother has given me a child, then She means me to bear it," she had said. Lilan could only hope she was right.

  As the days went by, then the months, Zena began to wonder if her dream was possible. Still, the way continued to be easy and food was abundant, and for that she was grateful. Each day, the scenery became more magnificent, and that helped too. All around them were waving fields of grasses interspersed with wide-crowned trees. A river with fruit and nut bearing trees along its banks meandered beside them on the north, to the south were mountains that gleamed in the distance. Far ahead were cliffs, some green with vegetation, others of smooth, pale rock. Were they the cliffs she had seen in her vision, or just an obstacle they must cross?

  She did not know, could not tell until they reached them, so she contented herself with enjoying the journey instead. The days were filled with discoveries and small pleasures - an animal or bird none of them had seen before, the sight of a field full of red or yellow flowers, or a brilliant sunset behind them. In the evenings there was time for talk, for more stories from Marita, time for Zena to watch the faces of her people and try to read their hearts. Most were content, filled with the special joy that came from knowing they were journeying toward their new home. Borg and Katalin, especially, were happier than Zena had ever seen them. They were seldom apart now, and Katalin had announced that as soon as they reached their new home she wanted to have a ceremony to celebrate their commitment to each other, as Zena had once suggested.

  Rofal and Sarila were another matter. Rofal looked happy enough, but Sarila still had that strangely resigned look on her face, especially when she thought no one was watching. With Lilan's help, Zena finally discovered the reason.

  "I care deeply for Rofal, but I still wish I could take others sometimes," Sarila admitted. "Rofal is very serious, wanting always to be so close to me. I do not take others any more because I know that is best, but sometimes I would like just to be alone, or to
be with men who are easier. His need of me is so great."

  "You must decide for yourself, not because of Rofal," Lilan reminded her gently. "To take only one mate because another wants it and you do not, is wrong."

  Sarila shook her head. "It is not as easy as that for me," she said sadly. "I must think not just of myself, but of the whole tribe, of my children, too. When I mate only with Rofal, he is happy, and then there is peace in the tribe, and the children are not anxious. So, I have decided that this is the best way for me. To mate only with Rofal is what I have chosen, chosen freely, I think, and I do not wish to change that decision. It is just that I am not always happy as a result."

  "I understand," Zena said softly. "It is hard for you, but I think you are right. For each of us the decision about Akat will have a different foundation. All we can do is search our minds and hearts, and then decide as best we can.

  "I am sorry, though, about Rofal. I care for him too, but I know he is not easy. I can say only that the Mother Herself, as well as all of us, are grateful to you and respect your wisdom."

  "Thank you," Sarila said, and there was relief on her face. "I feared I was wrong, to make the decision that way."

  "No, you are right," Lilan agreed. "I can see now that you cannot decide only for yourself. Akat is not as simple as it once was," she added with a sigh. "There is so much to think of!"

  Sarila laughed - the first laugh Zena had heard in a long time. "It is not so bad," she said. "Akat still gives great pleasure, even if it is more complicated than before."

  After that, Sarila's mood lightened. Her worry about making a wrong decision had been upsetting her even more than Rofal, Zena thought, and she was glad they had finally talked. Still, what Sarila had said worried her. What if all the men began to act as Rofal had - not demanding that Sarila take only him, but making it very hard for her to find another solution? Then the women would end up conforming to the men’s wishes because they cared most for the needs of the tribe and their children.

  She sighed. Akat was indeed more difficult now, and she suspected it always would be. Perhaps one day another Zena would find a lasting solution.

  The problem slowly disappeared from her mind as the cliffs came closer. A sense of anticipation began to grow inside her, became stronger and stronger until she thought she would burst. She had to force herself not to push the others to go faster. The children were very tired, despite the horses, and so was Marita. Like Gunor, she was getting old. They had tried to persuade her to ride one of the horses, but she would not.

  "My legs have carried me all my life," she said stubbornly, and I will not get on the back of a creature I cannot control." No one argued with her after that. Instead, they slowed down.

  Finally, when the cliffs seemed only a few days journey away, Zena decided to go ahead with Torlan and Borg and Katalin, and leave the others to rest near the river under some wide shade trees. To be in one place for a time would do them all good, she decided, and they would know better where to go after they had seen what lay beyond the cliffs.

  On the third day of their exploration, a heavy rain began to fall. Borg and Katalin sheltered beneath a tree to wait out the storm, but Zena and Torlan decided to go on. To wait any longer to find out if these were indeed the cliffs of her visions was impossible for Zena.

  Ahead rose a long green plateau that seemed to drop off sharply. Beyond the plateau were the cliffs, only their tops visible now above the clouds. The sense of anticipation settled strongly inside Zena, as large and full of life as the child that grew there. She peered ahead eagerly as they climbed the plateau, but when they reached the top all she could see were swirling mists that shrouded everything beyond. She turned in disappointment and looked back in the direction they had come. There, the skies had begun to clear, and for a moment the sun pierced the clouds.

  Movement on the plains below caught her eye, and she gasped in awe. A long trail of people, more people than she had ever seen before, was walking slowly across the land. Not until now, when she was up high, had she been able to see them.

  Behind her, Torlan spoke. "The Mother People are gathering," he said reverently, "just as the Goddess told us they would."

  "Yes," Zena breathed. "Yes, they are gathering."

  She watched for a long time; then she turned to look over the cliff again to see if the shaft of sun had pierced the mists, or perhaps formed a rainbow as so often happened after a storm. There was indeed a rainbow, a brilliant arc of red and blue and yellow, with another small one beneath.

  "Look," she said to Torlan, pointing up at it.

  To her surprise, his eyes did not move. She followed the direction of his gaze, out into the mists ahead. Blue; she saw the blue of water in a spot where the haze was not so thick. And then, abruptly, the mists parted. Zena's hand went to her throat. It was there, the place she had seen - the field, the cliffs, the magnificent stones. One at a time she watched the stones emerge from the clouds that had obscured them. They stood before her, tall and straight and proud, and she knew then that they did indeed encompass the spirits of the wise ones who had gone before. Strong and indestructible, formed of dense rock that had never yielded to the waters that had long ago scoured all else away, they were powerful reminders that the Goddess, and those who represented Her, would never truly perish.

  "I must get down," she said to Torlan. "I must thank the Goddess."

  He did not answer, only lowered her gently to the ground and stood beside her as the words burst forth.

  "Great Goddess, we thank You for leading us to the place of our visions, to the place we can now call home. To find the right words to express our gratitude is the hardest task I have ever known. I can say only that we will speak words like these over and over again as the years pass, until we are certain You know the depth of our gratitude, the depth of our love for You and all Your creatures. Great Goddess, may You live forever in the hearts of all Your people."

  Zena stared again at the stones, trying to think of more words. How was it possible to say all that was in her heart?

  "It is enough," Torlan told her quietly. "The Goddess hears you, I am certain. See, She is showing us more."

  He was right. The rain had stopped, and shafts of light from the western sun pierced the valleys and forests that surrounded the field with the stones. Beyond were more cliffs; all around them shone the brilliant blue of a great body of water.

  A noise behind her made Zena look up. Katalin and Borg had come, lured by the improving weather. They stared in awe at the sight before them.

  "Is just as you described," Katalin whispered, too overcome with wonder to speak normally. Borg only shook his head in amazement, unable to speak at all. Zena's ability to see what could not be seen never ceased to astonish him.

  For a long time, they stood quietly, looking at the scene ahead, then Katalin strode to the edge of the plateau and looked down. "But how are we to get there?" she asked in dismay.

  Torlan helped Zena forward so she could see. She peered down. There was water directly below her, too, water she had been unable to see until she came to the very edge of the plateau. It moved back and forth in waving patterns between the land that held the stones and the land on which they stood.

  "It is too deep to walk," Katalin said dubiously. "And the water keeps moving. It would knock us over, I think."

  "Perhaps the horses could get through," Torlan suggested.

  Borg shook his head. "I do not think so." The strength of the current in the river when they had tried to cross many years ago had made a profound impression on him, and the thought of trying to cross this water, even on a horse, was daunting.

  Zena gazed down silently for a long time, but when she looked up at the others her face was filled with confidence. "There is a way," she assured them. "The Mother has brought us here and She intends us to go to the place with the standing stones. Therefore, we will get there."

  Zena always said something that sounded impossible like that, Katalin reflected.
On the other hand, she was usually right in the end.

  "We must go back and tell the others," Torlan said. "That will make their tired legs move faster!"

  They hurried back, to find not just the people they had left behind, but two other groups of Mother People who had arrived in their absence. A great cheer went up when they told everyone of the sight they had seen beyond the green plateau. They decided not to speak of the moving water that lay between them and their destination, lest the joy evaporate. Besides, as Zena had said, the Mother would no doubt find a solution.

  "We must celebrate," Marita said. "Bukkor has taken some big fish from the river. We can use those, and see what else we can gather for a grand feast to thank the Mother!"

  The children scattered to see what food they could find, with the wolves in close attendance, and some of the men went off to hunt. Before long, they had enough for a great feast of celebration.

  Unable now to contain their excitement, they left the next day, even before dawn had fully come. Three days later, they arrived at the top of the plateau. "The water is not in the same place!" Borg exclaimed, looking over the edge. "It comes even closer to the land than before."

  "You are right," Katalin agreed. "But how is that possible?"

  "The water does move," Zena said slowly, thinking hard. "Always, it was moving when I saw it before, back and forth in the same motion. But where it stopped changed. Sometimes it was close, at other times further away..."

  She closed her eyes, concentrating.

  "Let us go down the other side," Torlan suggested. "Then perhaps we can see how to manage it."

  "Look," Lotar called out in excitement. "Look - the white sand is there, below us. See how it gleams?" He scrambled down the steep slope, followed by most of the children. Laughing and shouting, they leaped and cavorted in the fine sand. Lotar and Balinor darted forward to grab some of the smaller ones, who had ventured too close to the water, which seemed almost to be following them. It rose in great crests, then crashed down and came running up on the sand, then pulled back again, then rose again.