"Tell me of your tribe," Zena asked. "I have not been here before, nor have the traders with whom I travel."

"There are many people in our village," the older woman said, "but traders do not come here often."

A round, dark-haired woman spoke. "We have a new Leader who is very fine and speaks to us often," she said proudly. "He will come again soon."

"I have heard of this Leader," Zena commented. "Is he as kind as people say?"

"He is very kind," the dark woman answered, but Zena noticed that the girl did not look convinced. She decided to probe further.

"I have also heard that sometimes the Great Spirit comes to a woman, and then there is a child," she said. "At the last village that was true, and at others. Has this happened here?"

The girl looked up abruptly. "It has happened to my friend Pila, who shares my hut," she admitted, and her face was uneasy.

"Is she happy about this?"

"Pila is very proud," the dark-haired woman said firmly.

The girl made no reply, but Zena saw her lips tremble, and the fingers that had been caressing the shells fell still.

"The baby comes soon?" She hated to press the girl but she needed badly to know.

"Very soon," the girl whispered. "I think the pains have already begun. But it must be returned," she added forlornly.

"Returned?" Zena made her voice a question, pretending she had not understood.

"To the Great Spirit," the girl explained. "I know this but I am not sure if my friend understands. Still, I think she is very afraid."

"It is not good to speak of these things to a stranger, Brulet," the older woman rebuked sharply. "You are too free with your thoughts!"

"Yes. You must not speak so freely," the dark-haired woman agreed, frowning at Brulet. She turned to Zena. "There will be a fine ceremony in a few days, when the infant will be returned to the Great Spirit," she said, and again Zena heard pride in her voice. "Perhaps you would like to see it?"

"I thank you. Perhaps I will," Zena replied, and decided she would, except that she hoped no one would know she was there.

The rain had almost stopped, and she stood, anxious to leave before the women began to ask questions she did not want to answer. "I will go on now and find my companions," she said. "I thank you for giving me shelter.

"Perhaps we will meet again," she added, looking at Brulet and holding her eyes. The girl nodded slowly and did not look away.

Deep in thought, Zena walked slowly back to rejoin Lief. The infant was already on the way, and the ceremony would take place in a few days. She did not have time to talk to these people, to try to make them see that killing an innocent baby was wrong. Many might not listen anyway, like the dark-haired woman. She would be stalwart in her support for the Leader. What, then, could be done?

Lief had tried to protect himself from the rain with his tightly woven grass cape as well as the trees, but he still looked wet and very cold. Water dripped from every part of him.

"Fire," Zena said. "We must build ourselves a fire to get you warm. We must not be too close to the village, though. The Leader is coming soon, they say, and I do not want him to know we are nearby."

Lief nodded eagerly. They went deeper into the woods where no one was likely to come, and built a small fire in a cave beneath a sheltering rock ledge. Zena related what she had heard while the blaze warmed them, and they tried to think what could be done.

"Perhaps we can steal the infant soon after it is born," Lief suggested.

Zena looked doubtful. "We would have to find someone to feed it if we did that. A newborn infant cannot go too long without food."

"Someone in Mara's tribe might feed it," Lief said. "But then the Leader or Korg would hear of it, and the child would be killed anyway," he added with a sigh.

"Yes. And it is not easy to keep an infant quiet," Zena agreed. "Still, we will do that if we must, but I am sure there is a better way, if only we can think of it."

Lief made another suggestion. "We could speak to the mother of the infant, see if she will help us. She cannot want her child to die."

"I am not sure she understands," Zena answered, "but even if she does, she may be too afraid to help us. Mara said they make certain of that. Besides, they will probably give her a potion so she does not know what is happening."

Later that night, the moon came out and they decided to use its light to watch the village and see if they could find the hut in which the baby was being born. The task proved easier than expected - all the huts were dark and silent save one. There, they heard voices, saw a brightly burning fire. Zena was wondering what to do next when Brulet emerged from the hut and walked toward them with a jug in her hand.

"She comes for water, I think," Zena whispered excitedly. "The stream is just behind us. I can speak with her."

Brulet's mouth opened, ready to scream, when Zena touched her arm; then, recognizing Zena, she clapped a hand across it.

"I am sorry to startle you," Zena said softly. "I do not wish to be seen." She stopped for a moment, thinking what she should say, before she continued softly. "Brulet, I thought you were not happy about your friend, about returning the baby. Is that true?"

The girl nodded. "It is a beautiful boy," she said, and tears started from her eyes.

"I would like to save him," Zena said. "That is why I am here, and my friend." She pointed to Lief.

Brulet's face lit up. "I will help," she said eagerly.

"Thank you, Brulet. The best plan would be to take Pila and her baby away before they can perform the ceremony, and you could help with that. Do you think she would be strong enough after the birth to travel with us to a safe place?"

Brulet looked doubtful. "I do not know. She is brave but so tired, and also very weak. I do not know if she could walk. There was much bleeding. She was too young, the women say. They also gave her many potions to make her sleep."

Zena sighed. Even if the mother agreed to leave, she might not be ready to travel for many days. That would be too late.

"Has the Leader come?" she asked abruptly.

"He comes tomorrow, I have heard. Some of the men have gone over the ridge to meet him." Brulet shuddered. "I do not like what the Leader says as the others do." The words burst out, as if she had never before dared to say them.

"This I understand, Brulet, and I believe you are right," Zena assured her.

She looked into the girl's small, courageous face. "Have you heard of the Great Mother, of those who worship Her?"

Brulet's eyes brightened again. "Once, we were Mother People. I liked it better then. But the Leader came and we changed."

"One day, you may be Mother People again," Zena told her. "You can help that to happen. First, can I trust you not to tell anyone, even your friend Pila, that I am here, of the words I spoke?"

Brulet nodded seriously. "I will not tell," she promised.

"Also," Zena said, thinking fast, "you must not let your face show that you have spoken to me, that there may be a chance the baby can be saved. You must act exactly as you did before."

"I can do that," the girl said. "I will be sad as I was before, and afraid, and no one will know that I now have hope."

Zena hugged her. "I thank you, Brulet. The Mother Herself thanks you. I have one more question, and then you must get the water before they miss you. Do you know when the ceremony will be performed?"

The eagerness left Brulet's face. "Only a few days after the Leader arrives, I have heard. There is not much time."

"I promise we will do our very best," Zena told her. "And surely the Goddess will help us as well."

"I hope it is so," Brulet replied soberly, and turned away.

"She is very brave," Lief said, watching Brulet trudge back to the hut, her small figure bent under the weight of the jug.

"Very brave. I hope I can do what I have promised her I would do!" Zena's voice was anguished.

Lief took her hand. "We can do no more here," he said firmly. "Let us go back to the fire and think together."

For a long time, they traded ideas, but always they faced the same problems - there was not enough time to convince the villagers that what they were doing was wrong, not enough time get help, and no way to be sure they could keep the infant alive if they decided to take him. And when they went to look at the hut to see how that might be done, they realized it would be almost impossible. Three people stood guard at the entrance. Korg and the Leader were taking no chances.

"Perhaps we could hide and then snatch the infant away during this ceremony," Lief said hopefully as they returned to the fire. "Or maybe we could stop the Leader from coming, and then there would be no ceremony."

Zena brightened at the thought and then shook her head. "He would come back and we cannot stop him every time."

"But perhaps we could take the infant just before the ceremony, when they carry him out," she added thoughtfully. "They might not be so watchful then."

Lief shook his head. "The whole tribe would be watching. They would soon take him back - and take us as well." Gloomily, he rose to get more wood for the fire.

Zena sat brooding. The infant had to be taken; that was clear. Maybe the best time would be during the ceremony when everyone was watching Korg or the Leader and they were watching the people. But if she did that, she would have to grab the infant before anyone had time to react, even to think, and that meant whatever she did must be fast - and dramatic. Then maybe either she or Lief could hold everyone's attention just long enough for the other one to get away with the baby.

She clenched her fists in frustration. That would not work either. Even if one of them got away, what would happen to the other?

Lief threw the wood on the fire and sat down beside her, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder. Zena leaned against him, wishing that she could forget the problem and just relax with him for a few moments, maybe fly with him in Akat as they had before...

Abruptly, she sat up straight. Something Lief had told her on the mountain was stirring in her mind, pulling out an idea that had been buried there. There was something else he had said, too, that the Leader's ceremony was not real...

Closing her eyes, she concentrated fiercely. Slowly, one piece at a time, a picture unfolded in her mind, and she stared at it in astonishment. She had learned more from Korg and the Leader - and from Lief - than she had realized. But was her plan possible? Even more, would she be able to do it? Lief could play his part; of that she was certain. She was less sure that she would have the strength, the presence, to play her own role. Nor was she certain she liked what she would have to do. Still, to save the infant it must be done. Later, she reassured herself, she would be able to spend time with the villagers, to speak with them of the Goddess and try to convince them to return to Her ways. But for now - "How do you see me?" she asked Lief abruptly.

Lief looked surprised at the question but he answered readily. "I see a small, well-built woman with long hair that glows with a hint of fire in the sun, with eyes the blue-green color of the sea, a woman who is very strong but does not yet know the fullness of her strength.

"But it is there, the strength - and the power," he told her seriously, seeing the uncertainty in her face. And the fire, the passion, he thought to himself, but he did not say those words aloud lest he distract her from her task.

"It will have to be," Zena answered grimly. "Without it, the plan I have thought of cannot succeed. Nor can it succeed without you. I will need Hular and Durak, too. I hope they will come in time."

She could not do it without her sister, or without the Goddess as well, she thought to herself. All of them must help if her idea was to work.

"I am very glad to have you with me, Lief," she told him gratefully. "You have helped me more than you can know.

"Now," she continued in a low, determined voice, "this is what we must do." Bending her head close to Lief's, she explained the details of her plan.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Durak pulled Rofina into his arms for a last embrace; then he steeled himself to watch her walk away. He was still afraid for her in a way he could not define, but at least now he knew the separation would be temporary. The next day they would meet again in the big, flower-filled meadow as they had each day since that first time, and then they would leave this place and travel together to his village. Rofina would be safe there and they would be happy together. The realization filled him with joy. Soon, he thought deliriously, he and Rofina need never be apart again.

He set off eagerly to look for Mara and her mother, so he could tell them that Rofina had agreed to come with him when he returned to his tribe. Perhaps they would come as well, which would surely please Rofina.

His joyous face told Mara what had happened even before he spoke. "Rofina wishes to come with me!" he burst out, before she could warn him to be careful.

Her cautious eyes made him remember. "Where can we speak?" he whispered urgently. "We must speak." Mara's eyes swept the area carefully; then she nodded and led the way into their hut. Runor sat in one corner, winding flax onto a spindle. Her hands did not cease their practiced motions when she saw Durak, but her face was welcoming.

"I feel excitement in you," she remarked, raising her eyes to his face.

"It is Rofina," Durak answered, careful now to keep his voice low. "She has said she will return with me to my tribe. I hope you and Mara will come too. This is not a good place for you to be. Korg frightens me, though I am not sure why."

"The Leader is more frightening," Runor said quietly, "for he believes that what he does is good. He cannot see the reality, only his vision, and so he cannot easily be stopped."

"Korg's vision," Mara said bitterly. "The Leader follows Korg, though Korg makes it seem the other way."

"Where did they come from, Korg and the Leader?" Durak asked curiously.

Runor hesitated. "I have heard that they come from the same tribe far to the north and are brothers," she answered finally. "All we know with certainty is that they now travel from one village to the next telling people of the Great Spirit." She hoped this was enough to satisfy Durak. Not to anyone, not even Mara, would she tell the rest of what she knew.

"And people believe what they say," Mara added somberly. "Not all, but some. And once these people began to worship the Great Spirit, others in the village follow out of fear. To go against the teachings can be dangerous."

Durak shuddered. "Perhaps that is why I am so afraid each time when we separate and Rofina must return to the Leader."

"Does she return willingly?" Runor's voice was sharp.

Durak frowned. "I am not certain," he admitted reluctantly. "I know she does not wish to leave me, but she does not seem to mind returning to him, either."

"That may be because she is so accustomed to being there," Mara said slowly. "Or it may be..." She stopped uncertainly, aware that her half-formed thought that the Leader had made it impossible for Rofina to leave him, made no sense. "It may be that Rofina still tires easily," she said instead, to reassure Durak.

Runor heard the uncertainty in Mara's tone and looked up quickly. Had Mara guessed what she herself had finally realized? Probably not, she thought, studying Mara's puzzled face, and it was better so. Mara was too burdened already. Only if she could leave this place would those burdens fall from her.

For the first time, the import of Durak's words became real to Runor. Never before had she dared to hope that they could actually leave the village. But now, if Rofina had agreed, it might be possible. Rofina might never be truly saved, but Mara... Mara's life would change if she were among Mother People. All that bitterness would drain away.

Runor straightened her bent shoulders and turned to Durak. "We will go with you," she announced abruptly. "The time has come." Her lined face lit up with unexpected joy. "To be among Mother People again is more than I dared to hope for, but perhaps it will happen after all."

"But will Korg and the Leader let Rofina leave so easily?" Mara asked dubiously.

"I cannot see how they can stop her." Runor made her voice positive, but Mara did not look convinced. Runor was not convinced either, but they had to try.

"Korg and the Leader leave soon for the village west of here, where Zena and Lief have gone," she added. "That would be a good time for us to take Rofina away."

"That is an excellent idea. I will arrange it with Rofina tomorrow," Durak promised. "With the Leader and Korg gone, we should have no trouble."

"I hope you are right," Mara said, still sounding doubtful."

The next day when Rofina came to the field, Durak saw at once that something was wrong. There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her hands picked ceaselessly at her clothing, at her hair. They were shaking badly.

"Did not you sleep, Rofina?" he asked tenderly, taking her trembling fingers into his own big hands to steady them.