People of the Raven(57)
Somewhere in the distance, a faint shout rang out.
Are you ready? she asked herself, threw back her cloak, and filled her lungs with the smoky odor rising from her warm flesh. Her skin tingled as she raised her arms to the night sky, and her loose hair spilled over her naked body.
“There is no way back now. Let us Sing the first notes of the new Song.”
The low hum was born deep in her throat. Then, she extended her slim leg, pointed her toe, and took a quick step. With each twist and bend, the Dance possessed her. Ducking and swirling, she pirouetted around the red gleam of the fire, a thing of the forest, Powered by visions of blood, fire, and Death.
A woman’s high-pitched scream shredded the darkness. Tsauz started, banging his head on the close confines of his rocky hiding place. Whimpers of fear caught in his throat where he huddled, cold and afraid.
People began to shriek and wail. Shouts of rage carried to his hidden niche. Then feet crunched in the snow, rocks clattered, and people cursed as they panted in the darkness. Tsauz heard the fires roar to life long before he caught the first faint whiff of smoke. Within moments it settled around him, thick, choking. He could barely breathe.
“Run, you filthy Raven dogs! Run!” a man cried.
The hollow smack of a club striking a skull made Tsauz wince as if from a physical blow. A woman screamed so close she had to be almost on top of him. An infant began wailing.
“No, not my baby! Let him go! He’s done nothing to you!”
With a sickly smacking sound, the infant’s squalls were ended. The woman whimpered, only to be silenced by another smacking impact.
“Filthy Raven bitch,” the man muttered.
Tsauz’s heart hammered like a trapped squirrel’s.
When he finally gasped for air, he pulled his cape over his nose to keep from coughing.
A small group of people raced past, and he heard the frantic whispers of women and children. Someone must have fallen.
A woman pleaded. “Get up! Get up!”
The other people kept running.
More feet rushed up the slope. Heavy breathing. The hissing of spears. The woman screamed. A child shrieked. When something slapped flesh, the child’s shriek muted into a gurgling rattle.
“Come over here!” a triumphant man shouted.
“My baby!” the woman shrilled. “You killed my baby!”
“Make a sound and I’ll spatter your brains across the snow! Lie down!” Clothing rustled against the distant screams. “You’re going to enjoy this.”
The woman wept and made choking sounds.
Tsauz heard the man grunt, and say, “I love a tight woman.” The woman’s breathing was ragged, as if torn from her throat. The man grunted, “Yes, yes, yes.” A pause, and his voice lowered. “This is how it will be, Dzoo. Feel me? Feel my love for you?” Then his breath seemed to catch, and he groaned, sighing, “Gods, yes. All these years, I’ve waited for you.”
The woman’s weeping grew louder.
“Dzoo,” the man’s gruff voice whispered.
A sharp whistle carried in the night.
“Over here. I’m coming.” The gruff voice was followed by the rasping of clothing. “Too bad, bitch. If you’d lived, my seed might have grown to greatness in you.”
A snapping impact silenced the whimpering, and Tsauz heard an explosive exhalation.
“Where are you? It’s black as soot out here,” a distant man called.
“Don’t shout at me,” the gruff voice replied in annoyance. Wood clattered as if weapons were picked up. “What do you want?”
The second voice was closer now. “We’re supposed to drag the wounded to the pillars. What’s this? She died with her dress up over her head?”
“Shut up.”
Arms flopped against rocks, thumping.
The second warrior said, “Why are we dragging them to the pillars? Wouldn’t it be easier to just shove them over the cliffs?”
“Of course, but the Starwatcher told us to rope them to the pillars.”
The Starwatcher? Father? Is he close by? Tsauz listened hard for his father’s distinctive steps, but didn’t hear them.
“Why rope them to the pillars?”
“He thinks it will serve as a warning to those who find them. Now, come on—the sooner this is done, the sooner we can get out of here.”
Dragging sounds … Then a tiny moan was followed by a smacking blow. “Ecan wants them—”
A sob worked its way up Tsauz’s throat. Too late, he clamped a hand to his mouth.
“—where all can see.”
The gruff voice said, “What was that?”
“I didn’t hear anything,” the second warrior said. “Where did it come from?”