Death in the Time of Ice (18 page)

Then she turned her mind to the death of Aja Hama. It was time to think seriously about that. If a Hamapa killed her, which Hamapa would that be? Nanno Green Eyes became the new Hama on Aja’s death, and was enjoying her power. But she could not have killed her own birth sister. No Hamapa had ever done that.

Ongu Small One had contended for the position, but hadn’t won it. Could she have gotten rid of Hama, hoping to become the new one? Panan had once told a Saga of a male Hamapa who killed another male, but that happened in ancient times.

The two elder males had both liked Hama, although Cabat has quarreled with her and even laid hands on her.

Enga couldn’t think of anyone else with even a remote reason for wanting her dead, let alone anyone who would kill her. She had seen Kung exhibit violent thoughts and dislike of Hama, but he was now dead. Most of the tribe had loved her, and most now wished she were still leading them. Enga, as usual, kept these musings very, very private.

When she saw Ongu leave to go to the creek, Enga decided to follow her and try to talk about this. She saw Ongu squat beside the stream and heard the splattering as she added her own water to it.

Wait,
thought-spoke Enga quietly and narrowly, so only Ongu could hear her.
I want to ask you something.

The look Ongu gave her was not friendly, but was not unfriendly.
Then ask me.

I think you did not like Aja Hama.

You are correct. And I do not like Nanno Green Eyes as Hama either.

I, too, think you might have made a better leader, Ongu Small One.
Enga did not know if she truly thought this. Probably not, since she had voted for Nanno. But the sentiment served her purpose at this moment.
What do you think happened to Aja Hama? Who do you think killed her?
Enga watched with all her senses open to see if she could tell whether Ongu would tell her the truth or not.

Ongu narrowed her eyes, pondering.
It is possible a Mikino killed her. But our leaders do not agree on this. I cannot say what they cannot know. Their disagreement is distressing and is not good for the tribe.

Do you think that our leaders are unwise?

No, not all of our leaders. Only one of them is foolish.

Ah yes, you would not think Cabat the Thick foolish, since you were mated with him once. Or do you think he is foolish for mating with Aja Hama?

What I think of Cabat the Thick is no concern of yours, Enga Dancing Flower.

After Ongu brushed past her abruptly, bristling with hostility, Enga could not decide if she could have killed Aja Hama or not. She had more questions for Ongu, but wondered if Ongu would speak to her about this again.

She would try to question some others.

* * *

We are near,
Tog Flint Shaper thought-spoke.
We should reach our village by last sun, or maybe just after full darkness.

The traders, Bahg Swiftfeet knew, were as weary as they had ever been. The fast, thumping pace necessary to get Teek Pathfinder back as soon as possible, and the weight of carrying him, wore at them. The wounded young Hamapa male occasionally cried out, the raw bear-claw wounds on his back raging with burning pain.

Their foot wrappings of tough skin were shredded from the pounding of their feet on the dirt, and they had no more spares. Tog, Bahg, and Donik Tree Trunk took turns bearing Teek on their backs until he could no longer grip them. Then they had to carry him two at a time.

They reached the stand of young ferns, but stopped only to slurp up water when they came across it, pulling out jerky to chew as they ran. There was no time to stop if Teek were to survive.

Their heaviest burden was mental. They all agreed they should not worry the tribe with the bad news they bore. Not only Teek’s serious injury, but the failure to find anyone to trade with. There would be no more food when they returned than there had been when they left.

Something is getting through
, came a thought from Tog.
I’m trying to keep my thoughts locked down, but one with strength is coming from the tribe. From Enga Dancing Flower, I think. She is greatly troubled by something.

No!
Bahg gripped one of Tog’s shoulders as they jogged. Usually thick and strong, it felt thin, almost frail. They were all losing weight.
Keep your thoughts to yourself. We will worry them soon enough. They do not need to learn of our disasters until they have to.

Why do you not want to be the bearer of bad news?
countered Donik.
What does it matter whether they learn now or later?

Bahg didn’t know what it mattered, but he wanted to shield his tribe. He, too, had been getting urgent thoughts from his own mate, Fee Long Thrower, that felt almost tragic. He was afraid of what they would find when they returned. Something bad had happened in the village. He had gotten several visions of his beloved Fee and his rosy pink baby and the vision contained pain.

* * *

In the late afternoon, Enga Dancing Flower lay down for a few moments; Kung’s funeral had worn her out. Even without deep grief for his passing, the motions of mourning were tiring. Maybe pretending made it more tiring, she thought.

She lay on her bearskin, trying to relax, but still unable to stop her spinning mind. She kept quiet because Ung was beside her, fast asleep. Already exhausted from many nights of sleeplessness, the long, slow walk had further drained her.

Hama’s killer had never been found. The tribe had never even looked for the killer. Was she the only one troubled by this? The business with Doon telling the story of seeing the beaver disturbed her, too. Had no one taken note of him telling them Fee Long Thrower and her baby were dead when they weren’t? If he did not see their deaths correctly, had he seen a beaver correctly?

Enga sat up with a feeling of ice in her chest. Maybe Doon harmed Fee and her baby. Did he tell that story to draw attention away from himself? She lay back and pulled a light lavender shade down on her thoughts so they wouldn’t carry.

Then she smelled the New One. Again, he must be just outside her dwelling wall. Why did he do this? It was mid-afternoon, not dark time, like the last time he stood there. She decided to see if she could tell what he wanted.

Enga rose from her bed, careful not to disturb Ung, and crept out her doorway. The New One stood at the back of her wipiti. He looked down into her eyes as she approached. She tilted her face up to return his gaze. His eyes were such a curious color. He rarely held them wide open, but now he gazed on her, his red-pink pupils darting back and forth.

She sent him a question.
What do you want?

There was no answer. There was no sign that she had sent a thought to him. His eyes continued to seek hers. Back and forth, back and forth. Enga drew her brows down. She did not know what to do. How could she communicate?

It was such an odd feeling that she couldn’t send or receive thoughts with him. It was like gazing upon the side of a huge rock, or the surface of a still pond. She kept her gaze on him and still he returned it, no expression on his face. Was he trying to communicate something to her? She didn’t know how to ask him.

Enga raised her eyebrows and shrugged. He stared at her.

That direct look from those unusual eyes thrilled something inside her. Enga wasn’t sure if she welcomed this or not.

He turned and limped along the path behind the dwellings, his turned-in foot dragging with every other step, until he came to the end of the row. Enga followed him.

Maybe he wants to show me something. If I learn how to communicate with him, it might be a good thing.

He avoided the Paved Place and kept walking until he was at the edge of the village. Enga slowed her steps. Now she was not sure she should follow him. They were heading toward the Holy Cave. He turned and made a motion with his head for her to continue after him.

He must know not to enter the Holy Cave
, she thought.
Surely he has seen how we revere it. How we save it for special occasions. A female’s first Red Flow, a place for First Coupling, and a place for Birth. Our sheltered fire is kept there. A male must not go inside, uninvited by a female, after his Passage Ceremony. And then usually for his First Coupling only.

But he kept going up the Sacred Hill. His strides, in spite of their uneven rhythm, were long and Enga had to trot to keep up with him. She did not want him to defile the Holy Cave. She remembered him hovering at the entrance when he delivered the gift for Fee’s baby. But he had not entered. She had thought he understood.

He reached the entrance and stopped to look back at her. She sped up and reached him just before he ducked inside the Hamapa-sized entrance.

Wait! Halt! You cannot go there!

But the New One didn’t heed her thoughts. He was making soft, garbled sounds, but they didn’t mean anything to her. They were like soft Pronouncements, but did not consist of Hamapa sounds. She thought he was sending her communication, but they were not thoughts.

The fire that burned here was the main reason the cave was held holy. The central village fire could always be replenished from this one. Of course, a new one could be kindled by striking flint, but it would be considered terrible bad luck if this one went out.

The fire’s heat warmed the cave, made it a good place to birth babies and to have First Couplings for new mates.

He took his tunic off over his head and stood before her with his chest bare. Since his skin and hair were so light, Enga Dancing Flower had always assumed his body was hairless, but now she could see that he had a great deal of it, especially on his chest, much more hair than a Hamapa male would have. But it was all snowy white.

The New One must be warm in here.

When he reached for her she was surprised. His touch on her arms was gentle. He pushed her cloak up and ran his long fingers along her arms. It tingled. His hands and arms bore short hairs, again, more than a Hamapa.

When he tried to put his mouth on hers she suddenly knew his thoughts, even though she could not see them.

For just an instant, Enga returned his kiss, the warmth of those pale lips thrilling, deep inside her, down low. Then she moaned aloud and pulled back. He was not Tog Flint Shaper.

Enga twisted away with a grunt. His grip tightened on her arms and his sounds rose higher. She knew her arms would be bruised later. He let go of her with one hand and slapped her face so hard her teeth hurt.

She landed a blow with her elbow to his middle body. He crumpled onto the floor of the cave with a great roar. Now his expression clearly told his thought. He was puzzled. And mad.

She didn’t stop to see if he got up, but ran down the hill. She passed Hama on her way. The memory of Hama, back when she was Nanno Green Eyes, always following her and tattling on her sprang into her mind. What would Hama tell the others if she found out Enga had gone to the Holy Cave with the New One? If she found out what they had done there?

When Enga reached her wipiti she stopped outside the door, remembering Ung, sleeping inside. Her anguish flew toward Tog, trying desperately to touch him. There was no response.

When her breathing slowed a bit she went inside.

You are breathing hard. You are troubled.
Ung was awake.

All is well, my sister.
Enga tried to hide her anguish, but couldn’t. Ung was her twin and could see what had just happened to her in the Holy Cave. It was laid out for her as plain as the light from Sister Sun.

Do you think the New One meant you harm?

Enga did not know.
Maybe he did not intend to harm me at first. If I had coupled with him I don’t know if he would have struck me or not. But I also harmed him.

We will keep a watch on the New One,
thought-spoke Ung.
You will not be alone with him again. You are promised to Tog Flint Shaper. The New One does not understand our ways yet. Maybe, with the Tall Ones, the males chose mates rather than the females. I have heard that.

Was that true? Did the New One just not comprehend that she was promised? Was this the way coupling was done among Tall Ones? With mates chosen by males? With slapping and hurting?

Ung, I am grateful you are my birth sister. I will not bring this up with the tribe. It would cause bad feelings toward the New One. Maybe he deserves them, but maybe he does not.

Ung considered, then agreed with Enga.
He might be cast out and die.

Enga had to discuss her suspicions with someone.
Do you think a Mikino killed our Hama?

I think we should listen to what the Elders say. If they decide it is so, then I will believe them.

Ung was a better Hamapa than she was, Enga thought.

* * *

After dark, the trading party stumbled into the village. Enga, sitting outside by the fire with Ung, leapt to her feet and dashed to them.

Tog, Tog! You’re back.

Then she saw that his arms were occupied. He held the bare shoulders of Teek Pathfinder while Bahg Swiftfeet held his ankles. Tog shook his head at Enga and pushed past her.
We must get Teek Pathfinder to the wipiti of Zhoo of Still Waters for healing.

The Red of Teek seeped from the skin wrappings around his body. Tog cast a glance back at Enga before they entered the wipiti. He sent her a swift, incomplete picture of Teek’s young back, raked with furrows from a bear’s claws.

Enga knew from that vision that Teek was in great danger. When a Hamapa was injured by an animal, the wound often became red and fiery hot, then oozed white poison. If Zhoo could control these reactions, Teek would live. If she couldn’t…