Death in the Time of Ice (2 page)

Little Jeek, the son of the Healer, was a dreamer. Enga suspected his mind often strayed from where it should be. She carefully sent a private thought to Ung Strong Arm, using the private cloaking color she had learned as a child.
I am not certain Jeek always keeps the good of the tribe in his mind.

He is impulsive.
thought-spoke Ung, using her own dark shade.

Jeek isn’t mean. Kung, though….

Ung sent back her agreement.
Kung is young. He’ll grow up someday.

Jeek, at times, seems more mature than Kung, somehow, even though he is younger.

Hama quieted the squabble between the two youths with a stern look and a vivid, cold disapproval they could all sense. The tribe, Enga knew, could not afford dissension at most times, but especially not now.

The dance continued into the night. The males stomped their feet on the hard stones and the females twirled, flinging their hair to get the attention of the Spirits. They wore their best ceremonial finery; wolf and bear capes for the males, soft camel or brown bearskin capes for the females, all flaring with their spins. Their tresses, coppery, brown, blond, and a few gray, adorned with river shells and tiny bird bones, clicked and clanked.

Hama rattled her gourd at the darkness, toward Mother Sky, with her whole body. She raised her arms and her woven hair bracelets fell up to her elbows.

Enga never tired of her tribe’s music. Rhythm from the hollow log beaten by Sannum Straight Hair pulsed inside her, excited her. The wooden flute of Panan One Eye and the high, trilling song of Lakala Rippling Water floated the beauty of melody into the night.

But she shivered with something besides the cold. A ripple of distasteful thinking trickled to Enga. She looked around for its source. Her skin crawled as if someone had been watching her, thinking of her in a harmful way. She caught Nanno Green Eyes frowning at her and Nanno quickly looked away, turning her face toward the fire. But Nanno’s dislike was nothing new. This felt different. Enga looked on both sides of her, but saw only her fellow tribe members.

Someone crept up behind Enga and put two strong hands over her eyes.

She tensed.

The solid comfort of strong, calm mental waves came to her. She sniffed, then relaxed.
Tog Flint Shaper, you scared me.

He chuckled deep in his chest.
How could you be afraid of me?

She laughed at herself for her initial fear.
It is dark time. I am afraid of everything at this time of night.

The wisp of unkind notion from Nanno floated away. She grabbed Tog’s fingers, drew them down to her mouth, and gave a nibble to the thick thumb of the young male who had been so favored by the Spirits at his birth. Tog had come from the body of Hama. The look he gave Enga, and his low laugh, warmed her.

Enga drank in his body with her eyes—broad and powerful, his limbs thick with rippling muscle. She herself had carved the bone that skewered his shiny topknot of smooth, dark hair and had presented it to him at the time of her last kill. She gave Tog the smile she knew he liked, the one that showed her dimples.

But, as she always did, Enga kept part of her attention on their leader. Hama now turned her head. Enga loved Hama’s eyes, wise and dark and wide-set in her strong, wrinkled face. Those eyes smiled and summoned her at last.

Enga grinned in return and ran to the fireside so she could join the circle.

Tog sent an individual message after her.
You are beautiful tonight, Enga Dancing Flower.

You speak fancy words.

You shine like Sister Sun on high. Your eyes are the color of smoke to go with your hair, the color of fire.

Enga sighed at Tog’s poetic pictures. In recent days her mind pictures were filled more and more with him. With his sparkling, dark eyes. With his smooth, broad back. With his muscular arms. Sometimes Enga imagined loosening his dark brown hair and burying her face in it. She saw him in her mind while she scraped skins clean to use for hunting, and even when she stripped her clothing off and dipped her body into the stream.

Especially then.

But she yanked herself back from her musings of Tog and their future. Tonight she had a duty. She must concentrate on her dancing so it would be strong enough to win favor for the hunt. She knew she was the best dancer in the tribe. Her people needed her skills tonight.

She tried to empty her mind for the dance. But Hama’s Pronouncement had alarmed her. She could not conceive of moving the whole village. Her Hamapa brothers and sisters, she suspected, were all uneasy at the idea. But no one would openly contradict Hama after she had announced an official decision, of course. Enga swallowed with a gulp and tamped down her fears. Their wise Hama would lead them well. She always had.

Enga entered the circle and began to undulate to the rhythm.

Come, join me
, she called to Tog, beckoning him with a wave.

I have been waiting for you to ask.
He hurried to her side and began dancing next to her, matching her pace and movements. Sannum Straight Hair, squatting at his hollow log, gave Enga a broad smile when she neared him, then hastened his tempo a bit.

Tog wore his ceremonial cape of dire wolf skin. The bushy tails that hung from it tickled her bare arms when he danced near her. She twirled, her own cape of brown bearskin flaring. She shook her long, fiery-colored hair toward Tog, clanking the shells woven into it. She dipped, then rose. Tog kept his deep brown eyes on her. When her breathing became rapid, she didn’t know if it was because of the dancing or because of the nearness of Tog.

Enga dreamt of awakening one day soon and going to the wipiti of Hama at first sun, to ask for Tog Flint Shaper in the formal way. A Hamapa First Coupling must be approved by Hama. Enga had not yet coupled with anyone, wanting Tog to be her first. She desired to do what some Hamapa couples did, and stay together all their lives.

These notions had been coming to her for many days. She did not shield these thoughts and knew Tog could see them. Tonight, though, his concepts were not reaching her. Enga suppressed from Tog her desire to see his thinking. He would send them when he wanted to, she knew. His private thoughts, when tunneled straight to her and wrapped in muted, darkened soft shades of night colors to hide them from others, made her feel warm inside, even when a chill breeze blew.

Her glance swung back to Tog and she frowned. He was gazing upon pretty Vala Golden Hair. Enga did a double twirl before him, a wordless scolding escaping from her, and his eyes returned.

My eyes should stay with the object of my desire.
His handsome smile warmed her and she returned it.

Then she tried to clear her mind of all but the hunt.

The dancing lasted long into the dark time. Enga parted from Tog reluctantly as the meeting dispersed. When she received permission, she and Tog would couple in the Holy Cave, then would be together inside their own wipiti for many days. Vala with her bright yellow hair would not be near. When Enga contemplated their coupling, the pounding in her chest matched her panting.

* * *

Enga Dancing Flower, worn out from the lively dancing, made her way homeward with slow steps. A gust flung a lock of her long hair across her face. Enga inhaled the dusky smell of smoke that lingered in her hair before she flung it back with a snap of her head. Ung Strong Arm had left the meeting early, needing to rest for tomorrow. Enga’s twin was the best spear thrower in the Hamapa tribe. Enga sometimes wished she could aim as true and throw as hard as her sister, but, no matter how much she practiced, she could not.

Lost in these reflections, she bumped into someone blocking her path, startling her. She had noticed him at the gathering tonight, standing at the edge of the light cast by the fire, staring at Hama, as he usually did. When Hama had given him a look filled with unmistakable loathing, he had limped away from the gathering, his thin shoulders weighted with rejection.

The Hamapa called him the New One, since they did not know his name. He had been a lone sojourner when they took him in, no doubt cast out by his own tribe.

His unexpected appearance here frightened her at first. She kept her fear dark and close so he couldn’t read it; then she remembered he did not seem to be able to read her thoughts and feelings. She stood only a few steps from the doorway of the wipiti she shared with her sister. She didn’t want to wake Ung, who needed her rest for the hunt. Maybe she would try to get around him and avoid a confrontation.

But he looked so eager to communicate with her, she changed her mind and tried to greet him.

New One. What do you desire of me?

Her thought-speak did not reach him. He only grunted and made odd sounds, as if he were trying to speak out loud, to Pronounce. He accompanied his noises with broad hand gestures, but Enga, grimacing with the effort to follow them, could not tell what he meant.

I cannot decipher your strange sounds. Why can you not speak aloud in our tongue, even if you cannot thought-speak with me?

He reached into the pouch he wore around his neck and drew out a small carving. He ran his pale fingers over it, then held it out to Enga. She took it without touching his skin. Warm from his hand, it fit inside her palm. She turned it over, then held it up to catch the light from Brother Moon. Her breath caught. The smooth wood carving looked exactly like a very small mammoth. Enga was stunned, first at the artistry—she had never seen anything like it—then at the fact that he had handed it to her.

Maybe you hope to bring us good fortune on the hunt tomorrow by carving a mammoth. But why have you given this to me? It is too beautiful for anyone to own.

Enga didn’t bother to shield her wonderment, knowing he could not comprehend it. She gazed up at the New One in awe. Could he want her to keep it?

Here, away from the gathering, his white hair did not gleam as it did when in the firelight. But it caught enough light from the beams of Brother Moon to faintly glow. His hair, and his skin, too, were the color of Brother Moon at his most pale. She shuddered when she imagined what it must feel like to touch that skin, almost the color of a fish belly. Then she squelched that notion and narrowed her eyes, trying to read his mind.

What are you feeling on the eve of the hunt, you unfortunate being? You can neither dance nor hunt.
His foot twisted inward at such an awkward angle it made his gait slow and jerky.

Enga guessed what he had felt when Hama looked around the circle and beamed her warm smile on everyone but the New One, showing the gaps in her worn, yellowed teeth. To him she always gave a cold frown. Why did Hama not want the New One in the tribe? It was not the Hamapa way to turn anyone away, but Enga suspected that Hama wanted to turn this one out.

After all, the Hamapa had taken in Enga and Ung. They had been found as infants, not far from the village, and had been eagerly taken into the tribe.

What a shame you are crippled.
He stood a head taller than anyone else in the Hamapa tribe.
You would make a good runner if your legs were healthy.

She clutched the carving to her chest and raised her eyebrows in question.
I should keep it?

He nodded vigorously.

It’s a precious possession. But I must share it. Everyone should see this.

Smiling quickly, she tucked it into the pouch at her waist. His return grin split the night with whiteness. Enga paused. She was glad she could bring some joy to this poor creature, spurned by many in the tribe. She felt a measure of kinship with him.
We’re alike, you know, New One. We were both cast out by our own tribes.

Enga knew her thoughts were floating into the air without being received. Pity for him built inside her. But when he tried to follow her into her wipiti, repulsion rose in her throat.

No! You cannot come inside
, she thought-spoke in the most definite manner she could. She thrust her palms at him and shook her head to emphasize her motion.

The New One’s grin turned nasty. He pushed past her, then turned, grabbed Enga’s arms, pulled her to his body.

In a flash her sister, Ung, awoke and jumped to her feet.

Ung Strong Arm! Help me!

Ung leapt to the entrance, twisted one of the intruder’s thin arms behind his back, and propelled him out the door. Ung stood at the opening, her thick arms crossed before her, and watched until he disappeared into the cold, windy night.
Go! Do not return here
, she sent after him.

Why did he follow you inside?
Ung thought-asked, turning to her sister.

I do not know. I tried to stop him.
Her arms burned where his hot hands had gripped her.

Enga showed her the carving.
He handed me this.

Ung was speechless. She gently took the piece of wood in her rough hands, turning it to get a better look at it in the glow of their fire, which had burnt down to embers for the night.
The New One has a gift for carving.

It is a marvel. I have never seen such a thing,
Enga thought-spoke.

But you had better be wary when you’re around him.

Do you think he’ll try to grab me again?
She rubbed her arm where he had hurt her.

He does not yet understand our ways.

Enga nodded.
I wonder if he will ever learn them. The sounds he makes are so different from ours. And I cannot get any thought-speak through to him.