However this may be, it could happen; and it resembles all too closely the plan which Louhi is known to have set in motion in heavily volcanic Kerys, a thousand years after these events. That was a last desperate thrust intended to sterilise the world not just of mankind, but of all life, from the highest to the lowest, that the Ice powers considered a corruption and an invasion of the perfect world they had shaped and loved. So, perhaps, was the earlier glaciation, when life was at its primitive stage; yet a few single cells of it lingered, clinging desperately on in shallow residual lakes beneath the Ice.
Louhi and her kind could exploit volcanism, but she could never wholly control it; for it was the domain of her contemporary, Ilmarinen the Smith. He alone of the most ancient Powers gave any heed to living things, and eventually, feeling the need to grow and change, he allied himself with the younger Powers that arose, led by Raven, and became their friend. He was never as strong as Louhi, it appeared; or, equally likely, he feared to challenge her openly, for their strife would destroy the world as thoroughly as any scheme of hers. Perhaps also he was unwilling to strike too directly against those he had once counted as friends and more than friends. Nonetheless, by the same techniques as she had employed, unleashing vast amounts of carbon dioxide from the volcanoes to warm the world again, he forced back the Ice from its total dominion. In what must have been decades or centuries of turmoil the Ice drew back before biting acid rains and pelting hurricanes of unimaginable force, when the liberated seas themselves sprang up to aid him. And when this turmoil died down at last, in a suddenly empty world life was set free to blossom as never before. For that the Ice never forgave him; and he continued to harry and assault it at every turn.
With life came other, younger Powers, whence is not said; and they defended it against the onslaughts of the Elders with less force, perhaps, but greater wit and flexibility. A few of the Elders, such as Niarad of the Oceans, grew reconciled to life; and many among the younger ones in turn grew more like them, more entrenched and less adaptable. When humanity took shape in the world, with a mind that in some measure resembled their own, they feared it almost as much as their Elders had feared all life. Again Ilmarinen took its part, and aided those younger Powers that sought to help the struggling infant race.
Among these was the being known to almost every race, though by a variety of names, among them Raven. His greatest achievement in legend, however, was to steal the sun to warm suffering men; and there is some clue as to what he actually did. He was, it seems, a great master of weather, and it is possible that when another such wintry cloud was unleashed to send forth the Ice again, he found some way to disperse it, and clear the skies to let the sun shine once more.
Whatever the truth of this, he was seen as an archetypal trickster, strange and capricious, often apparently brutal or callous when some greater end was in view; yet often intervening with extraordinary and unexpected kindness in matters that would seem altogether small. He might not help a famine-hit city, yet restore a child’s lost toy. On the rare occasions he is recorded as speaking to men, his words are often on the same theme: that the ways of destiny are devious and strange, and that not even to him were all ends clear. He evidently saw himself as a stimulant or goad. Only towards the Ice and Louhi was his enmity apparent; and unlike Ilmarinen he is known to have struck where he could, even for small ways and petty victories. In all of these, though, he preferred to make men his agents, or rather to assist their purposes – often under the guise of a bargain or exchange, however petty – and let them help themselves, where their own concerns would most interfere with the innumerable evils of the Ice.
Yet it must be said that neither Louhi nor the other Ice Powers saw themselves as evil. In fact, they cast themselves as the victims of injustice, driven out from their dearest creation by rapacious invaders who desecrated their great achievement. They strove to keep their dignity, even in actions that seemed cruel to others, and their standing in their own and each other’s eyes. Nevertheless, like all who cannot adapt to new life, but remain eaten up by envy and hatred, they degenerated, and fell to fighting amongst themselves at every reverse. Three above all became great among them.
At the heart of the Ice lay a great Power, Surdar, the Frost-Lord, and many other titles; his dark will, and the myriad others he dominated, flooded it and gave it being and volition. But he was hardly conscious as humans would see it; his mind moved over centuries, and responded as much to swifter events by reflex as conscious thought. His will in turn was guided by many lesser Powers, among whom Taoune and his consort Taounehtar became dominant, by virtue of their many-faceted minds and explorative characters, more akin than most to the humanity they hated. And in the end, though she was surrounded by multitudes of others, among them the Morghannen and the so-called Ice-witches of evil repute, there was only Louhi herself.
Of the flora and fauna of the western lands
Relatively little is said throughout the tale of the animal and bird life in the Westlands, except as it affected the humans involved. Both the Chronicles’ characteristically detailed accounts of the natural world, and the interest and pleasure that lay behind them, are lacking. To most westerners nature and all its complexity appeared as an enemy, at best a passive opponent to be conquered and exploited, at worst a continual threat. It was an attitude understandable enough in such a hard land – harder, perhaps, to us than it seemed to its inhabitants, who knew nothing better. Many Bedouin once assumed Europeans wanted to steal their deserts because they were so much more fertile than their own lands. Nonetheless, now and again a casual reference or even a flash of interest appears in the tale, and it is often possible to expand this with information from elsewhere. Many life forms were similar to those in the same regions today, and so it is possible to guess what they might have been.
Plant life
Among plant and tree types, for example, the coastal forests seem to have been a mixture of evergreens, but the tallest varieties would very probably have been larches. And the forest of canes, from the description, are almost certainly related to the modern bamboos – actually a loose term covering several genera of similar-looking grasses, living in very different environments. The overwhelming effect of this place, with its densely overhanging roof stifling the growth of lesser plants, may be read as no exaggeration; even modern varieties may grow as tall as thirty-six metres high, though they droop lower and interweave.
The brown tundra plant life, too, seems to correspond well enough to modern species, in wetter areas consisting of various species of grass including Festuca vivipara, with sedge species (Carex), cotton grass (Eriophorum), mosses such as the Sphagnums, and specialised plants such as the bush-like bog-myrtle (Myrica gale); and in drier ones coarse grass, reindeer mosses (Cladonia), Iceland moss (Cetraria islandica) and here and there scrubby trees such as dwarf and ground willow (Salix herbacea and arctica) and birch (Betula nana). What seems notably missing from so many of the descriptions, although they are mostly seen in late spring, are the flourishing flower and berry species of the modern tundras, the arctic bilberry and cranberry for example (Vaccinium myrtillus and oxycoccus) or the dwarf fire-weed and Arctic poppy (papaver radicatum).
These and their kinds not only contribute a great deal of colour and variety to a bleak and monotonous view, but the berries in particular provide much-needed food supplements, supplying essential sugar, vitamins and so on for native diets, as for example in meat-based trail-foods such as pemmican. It may be that the malign proximity of the glaciers helped to keep them down, perhaps because the Ice valued the gloominess of its approaches, or because they encouraged other living things the Ice disliked.
Some secondary references are hard to place, notably Alya’s father’s reference to the mysterious ‘leaves’ shamans might chew. His comment was rather harsher than it appears in translation, because it seems that most shamans regarded the use of these ‘herbs’ with severe suspicion. They appeared to yield a short cut to the ecstatic deep trance s
tate, but an unreliable one, avoiding austerities but also the resulting spiritual development; the heightened awareness thus achieved often proved illusory, the visions it produced blurred or worthless. They must, therefore, have contained fairly potent drugs, not unlike South America coca. This is not known to have flourished anywhere in these lands, however; so some other plant, perhaps cannabis or some other form of hemp, may have been used. In Scotland and Ireland in much more recent times hemp was grown by pipers to bind their reeds, and they were much mocked for also chewing or smoking it – and, coincidentally, famous for their visions of faerie. However, coca-like products have been tentatively identified in Egyptian mummies; so it is not impossible that some related plant still grew in the Eastlands as the Ice retreated, and lingered on at this time.
Animal life
Again, the attitude to animals is severely practical. Wild animals are prey or problems, otherwise ignored, and little more is said even of domesticated species. Horses are mentioned but hardly ever described by breed or even appearance, let alone featuring as individual animals. We do not even know the colour of Alya’s Ekwesh mount, though apparently these were usually dark, or whether he rode that same horse till the end. We hear that domestic cattle existed, but no more is said; the same word is used elsewhere for what were evidently wild musk-oxen, quite different. The domesticated beasts may have been some kind of buffalo, but one reference supports the possibility that they were much the same gigantic subspecies of aurochs (Bos primigenius nordeneiae) as was kept in Brasayhal. Goats were more common, and perhaps also sheep. There seem to have been few animals at the Citadel, reflecting the poverty of its produce. There is some mention of domestic dogs, hounds of some kind, but very little; it is possible that they were as much food animals as hunting aids or sentinels.
Occasionally, though, the outlook of a hunter widens this view, or particular animals are mentioned to evoke a landscape – as hippopotami or lions would suggest African rivers or savannahs today. Chiefest of these are the giant herds seen first by Savi, and which the original audience would have recognised immediately, both in themselves and as a transition to rich but cooler, well-watered lands. Contrary to what is often assumed today, the various species of mammoth, even the archetypal Mammuthus primigenius, did not live among the snow and ice. Considering how much food any elephant needs will demonstrate why. Instead they lived in the south of the wide steppes and the margins of the forests, where their hairy coats could get them through severe winters. The sheer size of these beasts suggests the earlier forest and steppes species M. trogontherii, largely equivalent to the M. columbii that flourished across the ocean. The twisted tusks rule out any Elephas variety, and it was not unknown for the Ice to perpetuate older forms. There are also possible references to what must have been the immense ‘woolly rhinoceros’, Elasmotherium, living in the same terrain.
The predators mentioned as chasing them would have been equally familiar, but are not so identifiable today. As in earlier books, their name is translated ‘daggertooth’; but they would almost certainly have been something different from the Brasayhal creature, Smilodon fatalis. There have been several ‘sabre-tooth’ and ‘scimitar-tooth’ species of big cat, with increased bulk and strength to meet often gigantic prey, and long stabbing fangs adapted to cope with unusually thick hides. The most likely candidate here is the older giant species Machairodus, which flourished across both the Eastlands and Brasayhal; its fangs fitted into long ‘sleeves’ in the lower jaw, protecting them from being broken. The other common feline predator at this time, the large cave lion, lived in warmer southern areas and had formidable but conventional dentition.
It is worth noting that for the references to work, the audience would have to be familiar with these beasts, or their local equivalents – more evidence that this is a near-contemporary account.
Bird life
Where other animals hardly feature, the tale abounds in bird imagery. This is no accident. Even apart from their role in events, birds aroused a quasi-religious awareness, among the Seers especially. They were a metaphor for the shaman’s soaring spirit, and to him metaphors were more than mere words. They could provide both amazing visions from the heights, and a possible means of surmounting the Wall; and they were often the dominant guide symbols, also associated with clan totems, of which more below. ‘Raven’, of course, also represented that Power most friendly to men, who was often accompanied by these birds, and was said to resemble them in his mocking, disruptive nature.
The bird varieties mentioned are mostly modern, found in similar regions today. This is entirely in keeping even with the earliest date. Larks, swifts, swallows, crows and ravens, all are much as they would be now. A passing reference to jays suggests much the same brilliant blue-feathered variety. Nightingale’s sarcastic nickname suggests that the original was well known, and probably very like today’s liquid treetop singer.
Some species are harder to place. The hawks or buzzards, herons or pheasants referred to cannot be reliably identified; although the latter might well have been one of the two ancestral strains of today’s common ring-necked species, which derived from opposite ends of these lands. The great sea-eagles mentioned are also impossible to identify, but the one living closest to these lands today is also the largest, Steller’s sea-eagle (Haliaeetus pelagicus), with a wingspan which can sometimes approach eight feet, and might once have been greater. The commonest kind of small bird seems to have been a brightly coloured seed-eater much like today’s titmice, with a more ‘chipping’ call; for them the term ‘chickadees’ has been borrowed.
One or two birds, however, definitely represent vanished species. Alya refers to huge vultures of the mountains and high steppes; this would be consistent with the vast condor-like Teratornis, which flourished at this time, with a wingspan of some fourteen feet or greater. Less specific, but equally interesting, is the gigantic footprint seen in the Forest of Birds. If bird this was, it was surely flightless and beyond the size of all birds living, except perhaps ratite species such as the ostrich, not a forest creature and wholly unknown in these lands; or the moas (Dinornithiformes), then flourishing, but on the far side of the globe. More likely it was one of the many malevolent survivals or sports nurtured by the Ice from past ages. As such it need not even have been avian; fossil reptilian tracks have been mistaken for giant birds in many places, even becoming a Hopi Indian design motif. But any such monster would have been ill confined within a forest; some substantial predatory bird, perhaps a phororhacid, long extinct elsewhere, is more likely, and perhaps more dangerous.
Species of giant swan have been found from this era. However, the varieties known to the Chronicles were evidently all white, and the Morghannen’s black feathers must have seemed far more outlandish than today. How those fell creatures came to choose that shape is a matter of vague legend, rooted in the far side of the world. Certainly it was not their only guise; they assumed many shapes of power and terror. But it was the one they themselves seemed to favour; and interestingly, it is the most elegant and the least apt to war.
Of dragons
Exactly where the creatures known as dragons fitted into the world is hard to say. Alya’s father called them ‘buryakud’, meaning something monstrous and utterly unnatural. They were beasts in shape and aspect, scaled and reptilian; yet their powers were wholly beyond those of any other thing living, and their minds seem to have been greater than any beast’s, yet wholly predatory in cast. For the origin of all these anomalies we must look back to the Ice.
It is well established in the Chronicles that the Ice at one time bred monstrosities to lead its assault upon mankind, before it discovered that men themselves would do the job far more efficiently. Ironically, poorly as the Ice usually understood living beings, its greatest Powers showed great craft in the actual mechanics of breeding and heredity. From what the Chronicles half comprehendingly recorded, they could twist and distort the very stuff of life within the seeds and eggs of living things,
changing its coils to bring forth monsters. Among many miserable sports and distortions the odd viable mutation would emerge and be refined by further breeding, natural and unnatural, over long centuries.
It seems they ultimately aimed for intelligence to rival humans; yet they came little nearer than the appalling snow-trolls, which many believe were bred from relatives or even ancestors of men. And the worst monsters they produced, terrible as they were, turned out to be less devastating than might have been expected, against human courage and determination. The Ekwesh proved far more dangerous and apt to their hand. Callous as always, they cast out their creatures to lair in the dark corners of the world, whence few survived its fall; but not so the dragons.
Their origins remain unknown; perhaps among the great reptiles who ruled the earth before earlier incursions of the Ice. These had the potential to develop minds, yet there is no record they ever did; it may be that the Ice usurped the process. Other theories suggest they were minor Powers, like the Morghannen, who despised the human form, and took other models to give themselves shape and potential. They do not ever appear to have had speech, in any human sense; but they had a blazing will and a vicious, constant cunning that was little less than human. Their more arcane powers, of flame and flight, may have been inherent within them, as arcane crafts were in men; or may have been lent them by the Powers that made them.
Shadow of the Seer Page 55
