Korg’s words provided part of the answer, as well as more questions. “They are always grateful to you, Leader,” he said in his ingratiating voice, “for helping them to become women.”
“It is you, Korg, who makes that possible,” the Leader replied. “Without you, they would not understand.”
“For you, Leader, I would perform any service.” Korg bent forward in a small bow, then he walked away.
Sorlin frowned in the darkness. Did they do this often, for many young women? And what was Korg’s role? Did he give them some kind of potion that made them desire mating? That must be the case, she thought. She was familiar with many herbs but could not remember one that was used for this purpose, though she was sure it must exist. But why should they do this? Surely, the young women would discover Akat by themselves.
Still, there was something else about Rofina, something about the way her face had pleaded. What she had begged for was not an herb that brought desire, but peace.
She was still asleep. The Leader picked her up as easily as if she was a child and bore her away, still murmuring soothing words. Sorlin waited until she was certain the other men had left; then she rose wearily to her feet. She should find Durak, make sure he was all right. She trudged through the dark woods, calling his name softly. There was no answer, and after a time she returned to the hut where they slept. Perhaps he had gone there.
The thought of the hut had come into Durak’s mind, but he could not bring himself to go there. He did not want to talk, did not want to tell anyone what he had seen, so he just kept walking until exhaustion made him drop. As soon as the light came he rose again, and now all his thoughts were on Rofina. He must find her, ask her. What had they given her and why? Did she know what had happened? But how could she not know!
All day he waited in the field, wondering if she would come. Toward the middle of the afternoon, she did. She looked rested now; gone were the dark smudges, the air of tension. She did not seem surprised to find him there. She took his hand as if nothing had happened and smiled up at him.
Durak stared at her, taken aback by her innocent demeanor. “Rofina, the dancing,” he mumbled uncertainly. “I did not know of the dancing.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Dancing? I know nothing of dancing. Look, the poppies are blooming. Are they not beautiful? Only now, at this season, do they bloom.”
“But surely you must remember!”
Her face clouded. “There was something, I thought,” she said, frowning, “but now I cannot remember.”
Durak decided to be more direct. “Rofina, is the Leader your father or your lover?”
“The Leader loves me very much,” she replied, moving away from him. “He will teach me how to be a woman again, he said.”
“Is that why you wish to stay with him?”
She did not answer. Scuffing against the ground with one toe, like a child, she pondered; then she looked up at him with pleading eyes, as she had before.
“It is better that I stay,” she said finally.
“Rofina, come with me,” Durak begged. “It is not right for you to be here, with Korg watching, and the Leader...”
He could not finish, remembering the scene, but to his surprise, a glimmer of hope came into Rofina’s eyes; he saw it clearly before it disappeared.
“Let us run in the field as we did before,” she suggested, looking at him through long pale lashes. “That will be fine, will it not?”
Durak shook his head. “I must leave this place, Rofina. Your people do not want me here. I wish you to come with me.”
Her eyes dropped to the ground again. Desperately, Durak fumbled for more words. “It is so fine in the place where I live, Rofina. You would be happy there. The days stay warm much longer, and the mountains are lower, so that all through the seasons we can run in the fields together. There are beautiful streams and forests, and meadows that bloom with flowers.”
Rofina smiled. For just a moment, the picture Durak had drawn for her became real. In such a place, she would be all right. Everything would be better in a place like that; she was certain it must be. She smiled again.
“Then I will come,” she answered, and gave him her hand. Durak dared not answer, dared not even look for Mara and Runor to tell them, lest Rofina change her mind again. Holding tight to her cool fingers, he led her away from the village and up toward the eastern pass. If they could get over it and down into the next valley he would feel safer.
He soon realized they could not. Rofina became more and more anxious as they walked, and her legs seemed to become progressively weaker. Soon after they had crested the pass, she sank to the ground in exhaustion, clearly unable to go on. Durak crouched beside her and looked worriedly behind them to see if anyone had followed. They had not gone very far, certainly not far enough for safety.
As if to confirm his fears, two figures appeared on the pass and then disappeared again behind a ridge that concealed the small lake he and Rofina had just passed. Pulling Rofina to her feet, Durak led her behind some thick bushes. Heart pounding, he waited. The figures slowly came into view again, and he recognized Sorlin and Hular. The tension went out of him with an audible sound.
“Sorlin, Hular!” he called softly.
“Durak, is it you? We have been looking...” Sorlin’s eager voice broke off as she saw him emerge from the bushes. Running to him, she hugged him hard. “I have been so afraid for you! I dared not leave for home until I knew you were all right.”
“Afraid for me?”
Sorlin nodded and looked down at the ground. “I saw,” she whispered. “I saw last night... They did not see me but I was there. I saw you run, but then I could not find you in the darkness, and you did not return to the hut.”
Durak could not answer. To know that someone else had seen what he had seen filled him with shame. And yet, the others had to know if they were to help Rofina.
“We were worried,” Hular confirmed, placing a comforting hand on Durak’s arm.
“I am all right,” Durak mumbled finally. “I have brought her with me,” he added, pointing toward the bushes. Rofina still sat there, seeming oblivious to him or to anyone else. “She is not well. I do not think she can walk any further.”
Sorlin went to Rofina and sat beside her. “Rofina,” she said quietly, “we have come to help you. Will you come with us?”
Rofina looked up. Her face was tense, drained of color, and there were beads of sweat on her forehead. Her hands shook badly as she raised them to push back her pale hair. “I must go back,” she said helplessly. “I must...”
“It will be all right,” Sorlin soothed her. “I will give you some herbs that will make you feel better.”
Rofina’s face lit up and she held out her shaking hands eagerly. “You have the herbs? He said someone would give them to me but I did not know it was you.”
A wave of pity engulfed Sorlin. Her guess had been accurate. Did Mara know, or her mother? She hoped they did. The shock would be terrible if they did not.
“This will help you,” was all she said to Rofina. Rummaging in her pack, she brought out some sleeping herbs. That would have to do for the moment. But someone must alert Runor. Once she understood, she would know how to help.
“We must have a fire,” she told the two men. “I must make her a potion, must let these herbs steep for a time.” Durak and Hular looked at her curiously but did not argue. Sorlin knew a great deal about herbs and medicines.
“I will find a sheltered place below where we can make a fire,” Durak said, shivering in the wind. “It is too cold up here by the lake.
When he had found a good spot, they carried Rofina down the slope to the pallet of dry grass and pine needles they had built for her in the hollow. She sank down gratefully, her eyes fastened on the herbs in Sorlin’s fingers.
“It will be ready soon,” Sorlin assured her, nursing the fire.
“That is good,” Rofina said, when the infusion was cool enough for her to drink. “I thank y
ou.” Lying down again, she closed her eyes. Her face was peaceful once again. Durak covered her with an extra fur from his pack. When he was certain she was asleep he turned to Sorlin.
“You must tell me what is wrong with her,” he said grimly.
“Have you eaten since last night?” Sorlin’s voice was sharp. “I can see that you have not,” she added, glancing at his face.
Hular drew some chunks of baked grains from his pack and a wedge of cheese made from the milk of goats and handed them silently to Durak.
“I am not certain, because I have seen this only once before,” Sorlin began when Durak had eaten a little. “It is the poppies, I think; I have seen them in the big field, though I had not expected them to grow here, in the mountains.”
“The poppies?” Durak was astounded.
Sorlin nodded. “It is possible they gave her an infusion that is made from their seeds, to help her after her child was taken. A few people, and I think Rofina is one, begin to crave this substance and then they cannot live without it.”
“It is a terrible thing,” she added soberly. “The person cannot sleep, cannot eat, and cannot rest, until the craving is satisfied. But then, for a time, they may not be aware of what they do; they become another person almost...”
“As she was last night,” Durak interrupted. “That was not Rofina. That was someone I do not know.”
“Yes,” Sorlin agreed.
“But then what happens?” Hular asked. “Must they have it again and again, or can this craving be stopped?”
Sorlin shook her head. “I do not know. Of this I have no experience. We must ask Runor. Surely, she will know. It would be best to bring her here, I think.”
“Yes, that would be best,” Durak agreed. “I will go back for her.”
“I will go,” Hular offered. “You should stay here with Rofina. I will bring Mara, too. She might be able to help.
“We may not be able to return until the sun is high tomorrow,” he added with a worried frown. “Runor does not walk well, and she may need to gather herbs.”
“I will stay with Durak until you return,” Sorlin assured him. “I have more of the sleeping potion if it is needed to calm her.”
“I thank you, Hular,” Durak said to his friend, clasping his hand. “Tell Mara and Runor I am sorry I left without them. When Rofina agreed to come with me I dared not stop long enough even to find them.”
“I will tell them,” Hular promised, and set out along the path.
He found Runor and Mara in their hut. “Rofina has left with Durak,” he told them quickly, seeing the worry in their eyes. “He dared not stop to tell you lest she change her mind again. But Rofina is shaking and weeping. Sorlin – she is one of the traders and she knows very much of herbs and their uses - thinks... she thinks...”
He stopped uncertainly. To tell them of Sorlin’s suspicions seemed so cruel, yet somehow he must manage it.
Runor sighed heavily and turned away. She knew already what Hular would say, but she wished Mara did not have to hear. Once she did, the anger would come, and then the hatred. That these emotions warped the soul she knew only too well.
“I will prepare some medicines and take them to her,” she said quietly, hoping to postpone further discussion.
“They are just beyond the pass,” Hular answered. “I will show you the way.”
Mara looked at him curiously. “Will you help me get water for the medicines?”
Hular nodded and followed her from the hut. Mara did not speak again until they came to the stream, where the noise of the rushing water would cover her voice.
“You must tell me,” she said, gazing at him severely.
Hular looked into her dark eyes and found them too intense, too demanding, to resist. He told her about the poppies, then, more hesitantly, about the scene last night. “I do not think Rofina knew what she was doing,” he finished. “She did not remember, Durak said.”
“No. I suppose she did not.” Anger came into Mara’s face, made it hard and rigid. “How can they can do such things!” she hissed furiously. “They have made her as she is, by giving her too much of this potion, then taking it away so she must beg, so they can make her do as they wish... It is monstrous; truly, it is monstrous....”
Grabbing her water jug, Mara marched back to the hut and faced Runor. “You cannot hide this from me any longer,” she said angrily. “Hular told me and anyway I had guessed something of the kind. Only I did not know... I did not know anyone could be so cruel, so willing to hurt, to use another for... for what?”
Her voice rose to a wail, and she turned away, her features contorted with pain. For a moment Hular thought she was going to weep, but she did not. Instead, her face hardened again, and now he saw only determination in her eyes.
Mara turned to her mother. “You must tell us how we can help Rofina,” she said in quieter tones. “That is most important now.”
“Yes,” Runor agreed, though she was not sure it was true. What was most important now was Mara, that the corrosive bitterness did not reach her soul.
How strange it was, Runor thought sadly, that she herself had planted the poppies that now held Rofina in their terrible grip. She had brought them from the south, had persuaded them to grow in the protected meadow so she could help people in pain. Nothing relieved pain as well as the oil from poppies. Now, they were being used not to heal, as she had intended, but to destroy.
“You can collect some of the poppies and bring them to me,” she said finally. “We can prepare them tonight. Rofina must be weaned from them, as a child is weaned from its mother’s milk.”
Mara nodded. “I will get them. We can go together to find Rofina and tend to her.” Her lips tightened harshly. “But after that...” She stopped abruptly.
“After that, I must find Zena and tell her what has happened,” Mara continued, but Runor was certain that was not what she had first intended to say.
“Zena must know,” Mara insisted, as if aware of her mother’s suspicion. “To stop Korg and the Leader is even more important now, lest they harm others as they have harmed Rofina. Perhaps Hular will help me to look for Zena.
“Now, we must get the poppies,” she finished. Picking up a large basket, she headed for the meadow. Hular followed.
Runor watched them leave, then she went to the place where she had hidden the Goddess. Like Hular, she had seen the determination in Mara’s eyes. The words Mara had not spoken worried her even more. What Mara had really meant to say was: After that will come the revenge.
Pulling the Goddess into her arms, Runor spoke in a strong voice, uncaring of who might hear. “Great Mother, giver of all life, hear me now. All my life I have tried to live by Your words; even when all others have forgotten I have held You in my heart. But now I must follow my own heart, must do what has to be done, lest Mara, too, be forced to live in fear. I will not let her be turned her to stone as I have been turned to stone, let her strength be drained from her as mine has been drained from me. She must not be forced to fight to live, to speak, even to hear Your voice. No, Great Goddess, it must not be. I will do what must be done. Mara must be saved.”
For a long time she sat patiently, staring into the face of the Goddess. Slowly the picture of what she must do became clear, as if the layers of her thoughts were peeling away, revealing a kernel of truth in the center.
Another truth emerged: her actions would not pass unnoticed. She would have to answer to the Goddess for her sin. It was a bargain well worth making.
Carefully, she replaced the Goddess, and when Mara and Hular returned she was bent over her pestle as she had been before. She glanced up as they entered, and Mara looked at her in surprise. For the first time in years there was no fear on Runor’s face. In its place was serenity - a serenity Mara could not understand.
CHAPTER NINE
The old woman lifted the baby from its mother’s unresisting arms. It did not protest; its eyes were closed, its breathing regular but shallow. Krone was p
leased. She had put the herbs in the mother’s drink earlier, and as she had hoped, the infant had also been sedated when it suckled. If it had to be sacrificed, at least it would not feel fear. The mother would suffer less as well. When she woke, it would be over.
She gazed down at the tiny face and felt a terrible pity. Another feeling followed quickly, a premonition. One day this child would walk, something inside her said.
Do not count on that, she scolded herself brusquely. Long ago she had been a seer, or so the others had said, and it was true that many events she had seen in her mind had come to pass, but no one wanted to hear of such things any more - especially the Leader. Not that she cared for what he thought. It was just necessary to live through these times as she had lived through so many others. To go against what other people believed seldom worked. Better simply to wait for more changes to come.
Sighing, she wrapped the baby carefully in the soft cloths she had prepared. Would the herbs keep him soothed long enough? She thought they would, but she had not used herbs very often in the last years. Only Korg and the people he selected were allowed to administer them now, though she did anyway, sometimes. Of this, she was certain Korg had no knowledge. The people she had helped had kept her secret well.
A cackle of laughter rose in the old woman’s throat. If Korg and the Leader ever did find out, ever accused her - well, she knew more about them than they knew of her. Had she not helped at their births, watched them grow? Yes, there was much she knew. The Leader had not always been as fine and gentle as he now appeared to be. She had seen him when he was very different. Mordor, he had been called then. As for his younger brother, Korg - once a sapling was twisted it did not straighten. There had been a third boy who hung around the brothers, she recalled, a thick ugly child who never spoke because his mind was not right.
Krone shook her head in momentary pity. The boy’s father had beaten him on the throat to make him speak but that only made the problem worse. After that, the boy had attached himself to Korg and Mordor like a leech and had helped them with their nasty tricks. She had never been sure which of the brothers planned the tricks, only that the three of them had terrorized the village. What had that other boy’s name been? She could not remember, only that it had a hard sound. He had been unusually strong.
ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) Page 11