Read Online ICE BURIAL: The Oldest Human Murder Mystery (The Mother People Series Book 3) by Joan Dahr Lambert - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joan Dahr Lambert
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All around the clearing a murmur rose as the people answered. “ We give ourselves to the Great Spirit; to the Great Spirit that has all power we submit our hearts and minds. ” Over and over they repeated the answer, their voices rising and falling in harmony, and then there was silence again.
The Leader ’s voice rose once more. “ The Great Spirit hears you, hears us all and is pleased by our submission. Now we must wait for the words, the words of truth that will soon come... ”
A jolt went through his body, as if he had been hit. His eyes opened wide but he seem ed no t to see the people or the clearing. Words pour ed from him, measured words that came in a deep, sonorous voice that mesmerized the listeners with its intensity.
“ Know my people that I, the Great Spirit, am among you. Always, I am there. I see your faces, know your thoughts, read your hearts. All that you do I watch, all that is within you is open to me. Listen now as I speak the words of truth that tell you how you must live, what you must do to please the Great Spirit who rules you. There is no other but myself; there is only the Great Spirit. The Great Spirit is all... ”
The voice went on, lyrical, compelling. The villagers listened attentively, but Zena hardly heard the words. They did not seem to matter, so mesmerizing was the voice. It did not just make words as other voices did; it seemed able to use all the variations and tones and intensities of sound she had ever heard and make them magnificent, without equal. She wanted only to listen, to close her mind and listen.
Reluctantly, with a great effort of will, she forced herself to hear the words again, to get meaning from them. And as she did, fear clutched at her heart. Just as each person must submit to the Great Spirit to avoid retribution so must each wom a n submit to the m an who w as selected for her . Only in that way could she be among the chosen, the ones who were blessed by the Great Spirit. There was no mention of the joy of Akat or the pleasure of children, only of obedience and submission. And yet, in the Leader’s voice, the words somehow rang with truth.
There was more: only by sacrificing that which they loved most would the Great Spirit know of their dev otion. Zena was not sure what sacrifice meant, but the word still m ade her afraid. She looked at the people and saw her own fear reflected in the women’s faces. The men seemed not to feel it so much. In them she saw awe, and another emotion she thought was pride. And perhaps it was, for the Leader was telling them that their maleness was special, that new life came from that maleness, not from the women ’s bodies as they had once thought.
Lief saw the fear and confusion on Zena ’s face and understood for the first time the enormity of the task he had undertaken when he had pledg ed to watch over her. This Leader was powerful, as powerful as the Great Spirit for whom he spoke. Zena would have to be very strong to challenge him, and yet he must be challenged. Even he, who was not really of the Mother People, understood that. The Leader ’s words violated all their most cherished beliefs even as they sounded so reassuring.
As if to confirm his thought , heads began to nod in affirmation all around the clearing . Zena saw them too, and scanned the faces again, trying to read them. Did they really believe, or did they nod because they must?
Her eyes stopped abruptly. Mara; she saw Mara, at the very edge of the clearing. She had brushed her headscarf away from her face and was staring at Zena , almost as if she were willing Zena to look at her. When Zena ’s gaze stopped on her Mara did not look away . There was skepticism in her eyes, skepticism Zena felt sure she was meant to see. Mara, at least, did not believe.
Fear suddenly replaced Mara ’s skepticism, and she lowered her face. Zena glanced at the circle again and saw that Korg ’s head had risen from the dirt. The bird-like mask had fallen
All around the clearing a murmur rose as the people answered. “ We give ourselves to the Great Spirit; to the Great Spirit that has all power we submit our hearts and minds. ” Over and over they repeated the answer, their voices rising and falling in harmony, and then there was silence again.
The Leader ’s voice rose once more. “ The Great Spirit hears you, hears us all and is pleased by our submission. Now we must wait for the words, the words of truth that will soon come... ”
A jolt went through his body, as if he had been hit. His eyes opened wide but he seem ed no t to see the people or the clearing. Words pour ed from him, measured words that came in a deep, sonorous voice that mesmerized the listeners with its intensity.
“ Know my people that I, the Great Spirit, am among you. Always, I am there. I see your faces, know your thoughts, read your hearts. All that you do I watch, all that is within you is open to me. Listen now as I speak the words of truth that tell you how you must live, what you must do to please the Great Spirit who rules you. There is no other but myself; there is only the Great Spirit. The Great Spirit is all... ”
The voice went on, lyrical, compelling. The villagers listened attentively, but Zena hardly heard the words. They did not seem to matter, so mesmerizing was the voice. It did not just make words as other voices did; it seemed able to use all the variations and tones and intensities of sound she had ever heard and make them magnificent, without equal. She wanted only to listen, to close her mind and listen.
Reluctantly, with a great effort of will, she forced herself to hear the words again, to get meaning from them. And as she did, fear clutched at her heart. Just as each person must submit to the Great Spirit to avoid retribution so must each wom a n submit to the m an who w as selected for her . Only in that way could she be among the chosen, the ones who were blessed by the Great Spirit. There was no mention of the joy of Akat or the pleasure of children, only of obedience and submission. And yet, in the Leader’s voice, the words somehow rang with truth.
There was more: only by sacrificing that which they loved most would the Great Spirit know of their dev otion. Zena was not sure what sacrifice meant, but the word still m ade her afraid. She looked at the people and saw her own fear reflected in the women’s faces. The men seemed not to feel it so much. In them she saw awe, and another emotion she thought was pride. And perhaps it was, for the Leader was telling them that their maleness was special, that new life came from that maleness, not from the women ’s bodies as they had once thought.
Lief saw the fear and confusion on Zena ’s face and understood for the first time the enormity of the task he had undertaken when he had pledg ed to watch over her. This Leader was powerful, as powerful as the Great Spirit for whom he spoke. Zena would have to be very strong to challenge him, and yet he must be challenged. Even he, who was not really of the Mother People, understood that. The Leader ’s words violated all their most cherished beliefs even as they sounded so reassuring.
As if to confirm his thought , heads began to nod in affirmation all around the clearing . Zena saw them too, and scanned the faces again, trying to read them. Did they really believe, or did they nod because they must?
Her eyes stopped abruptly. Mara; she saw Mara, at the very edge of the clearing. She had brushed her headscarf away from her face and was staring at Zena , almost as if she were willing Zena to look at her. When Zena ’s gaze stopped on her Mara did not look away . There was skepticism in her eyes, skepticism Zena felt sure she was meant to see. Mara, at least, did not believe.
Fear suddenly replaced Mara ’s skepticism, and she lowered her face. Zena glanced at the circle again and saw that Korg ’s head had risen from the dirt. The bird-like mask had fallen
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