Death in the Time of Ice (24 page)

When Enga looked up, Dakadaga sent one of her flaming eyes down to Enga. She held her breath as it streaked across the sky. One lone tear fell from her own eye. Was this glowing eye a sign that the Spirits would take care of her?

The breath of Mother Sky blew again, colder and fiercer than before. Enga lay down, but did not sleep. She drifted into an old memory, one that replayed in her mind often.

One night, when Enga had been a part of the Hamapa tribe for eight summers, she had wandered to the edge of the Paved Place during the nightly gathering. It was the Warm Season. The breath of Dakadaga was soft and the fire was very hot. Enga sought a cool place and lay down with her cheek resting on a smooth paving stone far from the fire.

Two different trading parties had recently come by. First, several suns before, there had been the Cuva, the neighboring tribe of people like the Hamapa. They had traded tanned skins of camel and bear, and pieces of carved wood to blow through and create music. Then, during the same time of sun, that day, a strange-looking people had arrived. They were tall and dark, and their bodies were not sturdy like the Hamapa. They were called Tall Ones by the Hamapa tribe. It was the first time Enga had seen them. The Tall Ones traded intricately carved pieces of bone and antler, and woven cloth. At dark time they had moved a short way from the village and camped nearby.

Enga Dancing Flower started to get drowsy, lying on her cool stone away from the group, and heard voices in her head. A twig snapped in the forest beyond the village and Enga held her breath in a moment of fear. Maybe an animal was prowling for little girls who lay at the edge of their Paved Places. Then she heard other sounds. A person was weeping, a low, strange sound. She raised her head slightly and peered into the darkness, her fear gone.

Brother Moon, then at his fattest, showed her a female, standing on a rise, backing away from another being. That female figure looked like the new Hama. Jansa Wild Wind, Enga’s foster mother, had become the new leader very recently when the old one, her mother, had died.

The other figure was tall and extremely thin. It looked like a Tall One and might have been a male, but Enga couldn’t be sure. She strained to see them through the wavering moonlight, leaf shadows drifting across it. The Tall One stretched out two slender arms toward the female, but she kept moving away. The female was not the one crying. She shook her head to signify “no.” The thin figure fell to its knees. Brother Moon drew a thick cloud cloak around himself then and, when he let it go, the two were gone.

“Ha,” breathed Nanno Green Eyes, standing over her and pointing a finger at her.

It had made Enga jump.

There you are
, Nanno thought-spoke.
Why are you so far from the gathering?

Nanno ran back to tell the Elders that Enga Dancing Flower was where she should not be. Enga sighed and got up to return to the fire. Nanno constantly followed her around hoping to get her into trouble. There was no way for Enga to get along with Nanno. Kokat No Ear would always limp from his injuries the night Enga was rescued and brought into the tribe, and Nanno, his mate, would always blame Enga and her sister for that. On her way back to the gathering, she was met by Sannum Straight Hair, who had come looking for her. She remembered running into his strong, comforting arms.

Now, lying in the cold, dangerous forest, Enga’s lower lip quivered at the memory of Sannum, missing him sorely. Nanno, now Hama, had finally gotten her way. She was rid of the twins.

Chapter 20

The earliest unequivocal manifestations of fire use—stone hearths and burned animal bones from sites in Europe—are only some 200,000 years old.

—
Scientific American
,
Special Edition:
New Look at Human Evolution
, August, 2003, p. 68

Enga Dancing Flower handed a piece of sharp-smelling raw flesh to Ung Strong Arm. They both preferred cooked meat, but they had no flint. They had no spears either, but Enga had fashioned an implement she could use to skewer hares and voles. She had seen a coyote near the cave several times and would try for one next time she saw one. With her flint knife, the only tool she was allowed to bring into exile, she had sharpened a long, sturdy pine branch, and it served as a spear. She would not dare to try it on a larger animal, but so far, at least, she and Ung had food.

After the first night on the floor of the forest, Enga scouted until she found shelter for them. She would never have noticed this cave if she hadn’t seen a pair of cawing ravens dart out of the thick branches that obscured its mouth. She had investigated, hoping to find a fresh kill she could snatch from the ravens. They were not feeding, but this cave was a fortunate find.

She and Ung had spent the next night dry and safe. Now that Enga had found a place to leave Ung, she was ready for action. Ung would be safer in the cave than out in the open. It was small enough that bears and large cats had not been there. In fact, she and Ung barely had room to lie down. But a large fallen spruce tree obscured the opening and it seemed safe. Their only companions were the ravens, and their nest was not inside the cave, but in the spruce branches.

Their shelter didn’t remind them of their Holy Cave. No red streaks on the walls for decoration, and the interior was dark because of the branches. The only warmth was from their bodies, but the space was so small, they were comfortable there. It might be a place they could stay for a while. If only they had a fire. But they didn’t.

Enga detected a faint odor that reminded her of Doon. She wondered if he had used this cave. He had not been in it recently, she could tell.

Now it was nearly high sun and she was going to attempt to get near the village. She wanted to try and listen in on unguarded minds so she could figure out who killed Aja Hama. Enga wrapped her feet carefully. The breath of Mother Sky was getting colder and colder, and Brother Earth would soon don a mantle of hard frozen dirt. For now, she was grateful the path was neither muddy nor frozen, although she would not follow the path for more than a few steps. She might be seen. Exile meant not coming near the tribe again. Enga had never known of a Hamapa tribe to put a member to death, but she imagined that was what would happen if the Hama’s exile decree were defied.

And Enga was about to defy her Hama. Something she had had a great deal of difficulty justifying to herself. And something she would probably not be able to justify to the tribe. Her only hope was to make them see that the accusation had been wrong. She had not killed Aja Hama.

The small cave was only half a day’s journey from the village. She planned to arrive around last sun and conceal herself to overhear the Hamapa. She would spend dark time outside the village, then get close to catch thoughts. If no one knew she was around, they might not shield conversations from her. Then there was scent. If her scent were detected, she hoped they would think the smell was left from when she lived there. She had no idea what she was seeking. Just something, anything, to clear her name.

She ran at a brisk trot through the woods, parallel to the main path, to make time as well as to stay warm. She slowed only for thick growth she had to push through or go around. If anyone from the village were in this part of the forest, she was fairly confident she would detect them before they detected her, but she remained on high alert, her nose quivering to detect scent, her mind stretching to catch thought feelers.

When she got near the village she stopped for breath and to calm her mind. It was crucial that she not betray her presence. Her thoughts must remain as black as a dark time without Brother Moon. She smelled the fire and the familiar odors of her fellow tribe members. Tears of loneliness sprang to her eyes.

In order to focus on single thoughts, she would have to get close. She wiped the tears away and approached with a tightness in her throat. Thoughts would be flying around, none of them directed at her, so she would have to filter them. Being nearer would help with that. Sister Sun sent up a few last flares across the stones of the Paved Place and sank into Brother Earth’s vast form for their nightly tryst.

The dry leaves rustled under her feet and she slowed. There must be no sound. The breath of Mother Sky was in her favor, wafting her scent away from the village. A squirrel started in a tree above her, but did not chatter. She froze as it scampered away. Then she continued, putting each foot down carefully in the darkness, drawing nearer.

If two Hamapa conversed together and did not know another was trying to tune in, there was not a need to funnel thoughts between them. It occurred to Enga that she might overhear some things that would be hurtful to her. She must brace herself for that.

But she would start where she knew she was loved. She crept around the backs of the wipitis until she came to the large one that housed the males. It was at the opposite side of the village from Hama’s wipiti. Here she hoped to catch some stray thoughts from Sannum Straight Hair, or maybe one of the Elders. Tog Flint Shaper also slept there, but Enga wasn’t sure she wanted to know what he was thinking about her.

She could detect Sannum’s scent, but no thoughts. Tog also seemed to be there. Some of the males were exchanging ideas on food, mostly thinking about how hungry and worried they were.

I do not know if I can eat another shrew,
thought-spoke Akkal.
And the voles taste just as bad. I am so hungry for a good big bite of mammoth flesh.

I would be happy with a rabbit,
thought-spoke Tog.

The others agreed, then all was quiet.

Come on,
she urged, to herself.
Thought-speak to each other. Let me know what’s going on.

But nothing came. Her mixed feelings for Tog swirled and threatened to give her away. If she knew what he genuinely thought of her now, she could decide what she thought of him. If only she could catch his thoughts. She waited until her feet and hands started to suffer from the cold and inactivity, then moved to the next wipiti. It was that of the Healer and her children, Jeek and Teek Bearclaw.

Enga basked in the serenity coming to her from Zhoo of Still Waters. She wished she could feel the Healer’s hands on her forehead. She closed her eyes and imagined it. Zhoo and her sons sent thoughts back and forth, but they were about affairs of the tribe, mostly the trading mission Hama wanted. Jeek wished to be allowed on the trip, but his mother was against it. Teek boasted just a bit that he would probably go since he was older and had gone on the last one. Jeek still seemed anguished about something else, too, but he didn’t let on what it was.

Zhoo told them to quit bickering.
You both know we are not trading until the leaders can agree on how to do it. There is no use thinking about it until it is decided.

Enga wished she had had a chance to see what troubled Jeek before she left.

She crawled on past the wipiti where Nanno Green Eyes had lived before she became Hama. Her daughter, Vala Golden Hair, dwelt there now, but no one was present. The next one belonged to Roh Lion Hunter. Vala was inside with Roh, her sister. Their thoughts flew.

I know she is our mother,
thought-spoke Roh,
but she will never make a good leader.

It was a good thing they were not close to Hama’s wipiti. These thoughts were light, and would not carry that far. But if Hama had been crouched outside their dwelling, instead of Enga, she would have heard them.

We miss Aja Hama so much,
answered Vala.
We need her now.

What will happen to us? I am afraid Cabat the Thick and Panan One Eye are not united against her. That is the only way to keep her foolish plans under control.

Yes, I agree. What will she want next? She will let her own whims destroy us.

Enga listened awhile longer, but they had no thoughts about who had killed Aja Hama. Enga felt certain neither of them had. Gunda and her two little sisters were playing a tossing game with their seed giver, Donik Tree Trunk. The wipiti must have been crowded inside, Enga thought.

The next wipiti was the one Enga and Ung had shared. It sat empty. She swallowed a sob and moved on to Fee Long Thrower’s. Thoughts flowed freely between Fee and Bahg Swiftfeet, but they were all about the baby. This was the only wipiti brimming with joy. Enga gave a sigh. She wished she could stay here for all of dark time, letting their happiness course through her.

Ongu Small One was inside her dwelling with her three male children, busy untangling their hair and stopping quarrels between the two younger ones. Any other thoughts she may have had were not apparent.

Enga thought Lakala Ripping Water might be thinking of Ung, but nothing radiated from her place. If she was there, she was keeping her thoughts to herself.

The only one left was Hama’s. It sat apart from the others, so Enga would have to expose herself when she crossed from the rear of Lakala’s.

A sound behind her.

She quit breathing.

A footstep.

Her mind clamped shut as tightly as it ever had in her life. She could do nothing about her smell, though. The wind had died to almost nothing. Any passing Hamapa could smell her. She crouched as small as she could, next to the rocks surrounding Lakala’s walls.

Stitcher came from the direction she had been. He took great care, with his lame foot, to tread softly. It looked like he did not want to be heard. He passed very close to Enga, but didn’t see her. He stood outside the back of Hama’s wipiti for a long time, then went back the way he had come. Enga assumed he would go to sleep now, where he stayed, in the wipiti of the males.