CIRCLES OF STONE (THE MOTHER PEOPLE SERIES) (27 page)

Anger suffused
Lotan.  He hit the male so hard that his stick broke, then began to pummel
him with his fists.  The male roared in anger and raised his arm high to
strike. 

Ralak pulled
frantically at Lotan.  The male would kill him, too, if he did not
stop.  She could not lose Lotan.

The male's fist
came down, and Lotan crumpled at her feet. 

Ralak bent over
him.  Terror filled her, but it was instantly replaced by rage, a rage so
fierce and consuming there was no room for fear.  Slowly, she raised her
eyes to confront the huge creature above her.  He backed away,
unaccustomed to such fury. 

"Bad! 
Bad male!" she screamed at him.  "I, Ralak, have no caring for
one like you!"

Ralak repeated the
words over and over, alternately shouting and hissing them through her
teeth.  But they did not satisfy her.  She hated this cruel male; she
wanted to curse him, to tell him all of them cursed him.  Never before had
she needed to express the opposite of caring, and she had no word for the
hatred that surged inside her.

She wanted to tell
him something else too.  Again, there were no words, but the meaning was
clear in her mind: if he had killed Lotan, she would make him pay.  She
did not know how she would manage it, but she knew she would find a way.

*************************

When Lotan opened
his eyes, the light had begun to fade.  He tried to sit, but the pain in
his head forced him to lie down again.  Ralak's heart leaped with joy to
see him moving, but she hurried over and whispered that he should be quiet,
lest the big male attack.  Lotan was glad to comply.  He felt dizzy
and sick, incapable of standing.  But in the morning, he felt well enough
to get up and try to walk.  He was still weak, but the pain in his head
had diminished. 

The male stared
angrily at Lotan as he hobbled around the clearing, but he made no attempt to
harm him further.  He was wary of the tiny female who showed no fear and
shouted words that seemed to penetrate his flesh as sharply as the blows of
sticks.  Ralak had not been satisfied with her words, but their effect had
still been strong.

Ralak was relieved
that there were no more attacks, but she was still furious.  She would not
look at the intruder or acknowledge his presence in any way.  Ignoring him
completely, she signaled the others to follow her to a small field with
fruiting bushes.  When they had finished eating, she went on again as if
he were not there, and she continued to treat him this way for many days. 

The big male
plodded behind her, nursing his anger.  He did not understand why the
others had attacked him so ferociously.  He had only tried to kill the
infants so their mothers would mate with him, and then he could join the
group.  They needed a male to protect them.  That did not seem wrong
to him, but still the females had struck him over and over again.  Bruises
from the pounding they had inflicted showed purple against his dark skin, and a
large welt throbbed where Lotan had hit him.  But even more painful than
his bruises was Ralak's refusal to pay any attention to him.  She reminded
him of his mother, whom he had loved, but she acted like the female who had
driven him from his tribe when his mother had died.  He hated that
female.  She had been jealous of his mother and had tried to drive her
away, too, and as soon as his mother had died, she had turned on him
instead.  Day after day, she had tormented him relentlessly until he had
left, long before he was full-grown.  He had been alone ever since.

His frustration
grew as the weeks passed and Ralak continued to ignore him.  He could not
vent his feelings on her; he wanted her to like him, not scream at him or
ignore him.  Nor did he want to harm the other females, for they were
potential mates, so all his wrath was directed at Lotan.  It was because
of Lotan that Ralak had screamed scathing words at him, and then refused to
acknowledge his presence at all.  It was Lotan's fault that she still
glared at him with loathing instead of accepting him.  He wanted to grab
the younger male and shake him until he could never move again, but he did not
dare.  Instead, he tried to intimidate Lotan by watching him constantly
and following him everywhere.  Lotan felt the hard, vengeful eyes on his
back as he dug for tubers, and smelled the strong, rank odor close beside him
as he slept.  Not for a moment could he relax his guard, and his constant
state of watchfulness was exhausting.

Ralak decided to
try to sneak away with Lotan.  Toro and Metep would be all right with the
male.  Metep was as tall as her mother now, and would soon be ready to
mate.  Once he had mated with them, the male would protect them and any
infants they bore.

Whispering to
Lotan to follow, she crept farther and farther from the others as they gathered
food, then ran as fast as she could into the trees.  The big male saw what
was happening and rushed after them furiously.  He grabbed Ralak's arm and
pulled so hard she screamed in agony.  Lotan ran to defend her, his face
contorted with fury.  Ralak stopped him with a quick command, certain that
the male would kill Lotan if he hit him again.  Reluctantly, Lotan
obeyed. 

In the weeks that
followed, Ralak changed her tactics.  Instead of letting her anger show,
she tried to become friendly with the intruder.  She and Lotan would have
to escape; of that she was certain, but they would be more likely to succeed if
the male thought they had accepted his presence. 

"I
Ralak," she told him one evening, pointing to herself.

He grunted and did
not respond.  He seemed to have few words, fewer even than Toro and
Metep.  Perhaps solitary males like him had no need for words.  

She pointed to the
others, and named them.  The male followed her pointing finger, seeming
now to understand.

"Kropor,"
he said clearly.  It was not a name Ralak had heard before.  She
wondered where he had come from.

"Mother?" 
Ralak said the word in a questioning tone, hoping to elicit more information. 
Most males were more attached to their mothers than any other, and preferred to
stay with their mother's tribe as long as they could. 

She pointed to
herself, then to the infant, in case his words were different. 

Kropor frowned and
looked away, and for the first time she saw softness in his face.  She was
certain he had understood her word, and that he had cared for his mother. 

The softness
vanished as Kropor watched Lotan place an arm around Ralak's shoulders. 
Ralak was no longer ignoring him, but it was still Lotan she cared for
most.  Kropor wanted her to care for him more than any other, as his
mother had.  Except Ralak was not mother, but potential mate, and while
Lotan remained with the group, Ralak would always care most for
him.  

Kropor thumped a
fist against the ground.  He was not accustomed to these complicated
feelings, and his confusion made him angrier than ever.

"Gone,"
he barked in answer to Ralak's question, and closed his lips firmly, to
discourage further discussion.

Ralak soon
realized that her attempts at friendliness were not defusing Kropor's anger
toward Lotan, as she had hoped.  Instead, as she became less abusive, the
big male tried to keep her with him all the time, and he became even more
blatant in his attempts to get rid of Lotan.  Once or twice, Ralak saw his
eyes linger on her infant, too, as if he were gathering the courage to attack
it.  Baffled by this unexpected response, she began to shout at him
again.  She kept Lotan close beside her, and refused to let Kropor come
near her or the infant.

These efforts
failed even more miserably.  Bewildered and hurt by her renewed hostility,
Kropor became more aggressive than ever.  Ralak knew they must leave soon,
and watched anxiously for an opportunity.

Her chance came
late that day, when she crested a low hill and saw fire in the valley
below.  At the end of the dry season, the earthforce was always
restless.  It swirled among the bulky clouds and charged over and over
again toward the earth in long, crackling spears of lightning, triggering brush
fires in the dry grasses.  The fire below her was still small, but it was
very smoky, so that much of the valley was hidden by a thick gray haze. 
Under its cover, she and Lotan could escape.

Kropor seemed to
read her mind, and would not let her out of his sight.  When she moved a
few paces away to suckle the infant, he grabbed her arm again.  She
screamed in pain, but he would not let go.  He shook her savagely, finally
venting his frustration with this female who had become friendly and then
inexplicably refused to tolerate his presence.  Why was she cruel to him
again?  He cared for her, wanted her to care for him.  He felt a
security in her presence that he had not known since his mother had died. 
He did not want her to leave him, make him be alone again.  He wanted to
keep her.

Lotan could stand
no more.  For weeks he had endured Kropor's constant staring, his
increasing possessiveness toward Ralak.  All his accumulated tension
exploded when he saw the big male grab her arm and heard her scream.  He
charged at Kropor, waving the digging stick he held in his hand wildly. 
He did not hear Ralak's cry of warning, or see the rock the male grabbed from
the ground.  He saw only the truculent face, the hard eyes, and he struck
at them with all the force he could muster.  The pointed end of the
digging stick went into one of Kropor's eyes.  The big male clutched it,
screaming in agony.

"Run!" 
The words penetrated Lotan's blind fury, but he did not respond.  He could
not run without his mother.

"Run,"
she screamed again.  "I follow!"

Kropor raised an
arm to throw the rock.  Toro grabbed his hand, destroying his aim, and the
rock fell harmlessly by Lotan's foot. 

The huge male
growled deep in his throat, enraged by her interference.  He hit out at
her, but she ducked away. 

Lotan hesitated,
paralyzed by indecision.  Ralak ran toward him.  "Run!" she
screamed again.  The terror in her voice galvanized Lotan.  He turned
and fled.  Kropor pounded behind him.  Blood from the wounded eye
covered his face and neck, and his mouth was open in a terrifying snarl.

Lotan ran
faster.  There were patches of fire in front of him now.  He ran
between them, dancing from one clump of grass to another to avoid the
flames.  He heard Kropor scream as fire scorched his feet.  The
pounding footsteps slowed, then stopped, but Lotan could not tell whether the
big male had given up the chase or if the sound of his movements was hidden by
the wind, the noisy hiss of burning grass and wood.  He kept on running,
first in one direction, then another, as new fires spurted up around him. 
Only when he was certain Kropor was no longer behind him did he stop and begin
to pick his way back through the burned grasses to look for his mother. 
She had said she would follow.

Blinking furiously
in an effort to clear his eyes, he peered into the thick air. He could see only
an arm's length in front of him, and the smoke made objects seem to appear and
disappear.  He started toward the hillside where he had left his mother,
but then he realized he did not know where the hillside was.  He had run
in so many directions he could not remember.

Calling
frantically, he tried to retrace his steps.  But fire had destroyed any
sign of his passage, and the crackling of flames, much louder now, obscured his
voice and all other sounds.  If his mother answered, he did not hear; if
she was nearby, searching for him, he could not see. 

Tears ran down
Lotan's cheeks, from the heat and fumes, from the terrible anguish that gripped
him.  His search was useless.  He would never be able to find Ralak
in all this smoky blackness - if she was even here.  She might not have
been able to follow him, as she had promised.  Maybe Kropor had dragged
her back, was still holding her arm as she screamed in pain.

Lotan was sure of
it suddenly, as sure as if he had been there, and the realization gave him
strength.  He
had
to find his mother, had to find his way back, so
he could rescue her. 

The wind rose as
he stood still, trying to get his bearings.  All around him, flames
suddenly shot high into the air, then flattened as they attacked the dry
grasses.  Smoke blew in thick, murky clouds against the ground, spewing
cinders into his eyes, obscuring his vision completely.  Flames licked at
his legs, and blistering heat seared his body.  The fire was coming at him
from all directions now. 

Terrified, Lotan
covered his face with his hands and ran.  He ran anywhere, toward any
small oasis where the fire was not yet burning.  He no longer knew where
he had come from, where he was going.  There was no way to know as the
fire chased him, sent him careening in every direction.

The flames rose
still higher; they singed the downy hairs from his body and scorched his
blistered feet.  He blundered on, reeling with fatigue, dizzy from the
pungent fumes.  Twice he fell and almost stayed where he landed, too
exhausted to move.  Each time, the burning forced him to leap up and
stagger on.  But the third time he fell, the ground was not so hot. 
Dazedly, he looked down and realized that the fire had passed this place
already.  Smoke rose thickly from the ground, but the flames were
gone.  Perhaps he could rest here for a moment.

A large animal
moved suddenly in front of him, and he jumped to his feet.  He could not
see what it was, but he thought he heard a menacing growl above the noise of
the wind.  Panicked, Lotan charged forward.  He felt rocks under his
feet, hard and sharp against his scorched soles.  And then, abruptly,
there was nothing beneath him, nothing at all.

*************************

On the hillside
above the fire, Ralak winced sharply, as if she had been hit.  But there
was no one near her.  Even Kropor had retreated, alarmed by her
overpowering grief.