He kissed the volume reverently and placed it back on the shelf, locking the cabinet afterward. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” he said. “In hoc signo vinces.”
THE MOUNTAIN MOTHER CIPHER
The Mountain Mother Cipher
Book Two of Seven – Arkana Archaeology Mystery Thriller Series
http://www.mythofhistory.com
Copyright © 2011 by N. S. Wikarski
Third Revised Edition 2017
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1 – In the Beginning
Caucasus Mountains – East of the Black Sea Coast – 5600 BCE
They had been fleeing for weeks now. At first, running just to keep a few paces ahead of the flood water. The water that no longer ran fresh but tasted of salt. It had swallowed their dwellings, their crops, and even their livestock and children. Many had perished. Some had been quick enough to escape. There was nowhere left to go but into the mountains, so they stopped running and began to climb.
It was summer when they left the shore. They had now reached the heights where summer never came. Some had wrapped their feet in rags to keep away the frostbite for a little while longer. Others had already died along the trail. That was when they still had meager food supplies. When they were not yet tempted to feed off the dead to keep themselves alive.
Now they were reduced to a band of twenty. Some old, some young. She was the oldest. The only clan mother who had not drowned in the flood or died on the trail. Not yet anyway. They had stopped to rest on the top of a snowy pass while the shaman cast for signs.
The clan mother looked around at the pinched and frozen faces surrounding her. Their troubled expressions prompted her for guidance.
“Let us see what the signs will tell us.” She shuffled over to a woman who was crouching above a pile of flat stones with markings incised on them. The woman wore an amulet bound to her forehead. A polished piece of copper inscribed with a five-pointed star.
“We should go down that way.” The shaman pointed toward a decline that led off to the right.
“And I say we should go up instead!” challenged a burly young man. He pointed toward a gap between two mountain peaks to their left. The clan mother didn’t know his name or who his mother was. He had attached himself to their band during the flight. He possessed a bad temper, and the chill in his eyes whispered to her that he had been born without a soul.
“The signs say we should go down,” the shaman murmured, still intent on her casting.
“And I am sick of listening to you and your signs!” The stranger advanced and stood menacingly above the shaman.
She looked up at him in surprise. “Do you think the Mother of All would lead us into harm’s way?”
He spat behind him. “I think she has already led us into harm’s way. Where was she when the waters rose? What good have your prayers done so far?”
“We’re still alive, aren’t we?” The shaman rose indignantly.
“And you would give her credit for that?” The stranger’s tone was incredulous. “For starvation?”
The shaman’s voice became hard. “She will not fail us.”
“She has already abandoned us!” he shouted back. “She is not to be trusted. She has turned her back on us, and now we should turn our backs on her.”
The clan mother stood apart, considering the situation in silence.
“We go this way.” The shaman pointed emphatically to the sloping trail on the right.
“Enough talk!” Without warning, the stranger’s obsidian knife slashed across the shaman’s throat.
She gave a single choking gasp before falling backwards, her blood staining the white snow.
A few of the older men drew their knives, but the clan mother stopped them. “No, let him go,” she said sternly.
The stranger backed away from the group, his knife still drawn. He held up the star talisman he had snatched from the shaman’s forehead as she fell. “Look how well the Mother of All protected her priestess. Do you think she will do any better for you or you or you?” He pointed in turn to each of the shocked faces that confronted him. “Anybody else who wants to live can come with me!”
They looked at one other dumbly. Exhaustion and starvation had rendered them slow-witted. After a few moments, a handful of the younger folk straggled toward where the challenger stood. His eyes glittered as he stared at the clan mother. “Hah! You see who they choose to follow now. I will lead them to a new world with new gods who won’t betray us.”
The clan mother watched him and his little band disappear in the gap between the peaks. She and her tribe had no place in the world of which he spoke. Nor would she have wanted one. She glanced down at the shaman lying at her feet, blood still gushing across the snow.
***
It would be many
