by Joe Zeigler
Since they had gotten a late start and needed to stop early for their hour of practice, they made camp by the river at the mouth of the gorge. Ixchel dropped her gear and, reversing her spear, struck Eijá firmly on the butt.
“Hey,” she shouted, “what’s that for?”
“I challenged you to combat,” Ixchel answered.
“Wait, you two,” Micaela said. “Cover your spear tip before practice, the way Danijel taught us. You don’t want an accident.”
Humbling the Wolves
Micaela woke up early the next morning and found tracks around the perimeter of the campsite.
“Wolves,” she announced as Ederra prepared their morning meal. “Wolves circled the camp last night, just outside the light of the fire.”
“This time of the year, they’re not going to let us go,” Eijá observed.
“Maybe,” Micaela said. “It may depend on how long it takes them to work up their confidence. And we’re going the wrong way. They will have been moving south for the winter, and we’d be leading them north. That might discourage them.”
“Yes, and the smell of hot meat might encourage them,” Ederra said. “I’m done cooking. Eat what’s there and grab some smoked deer.”
“Right…let’s be gone from here and hope the wolves go the other way.”
“OK,” Micaela agreed, “but move slowly, and then we walk. If they think we are running, they will think us weak and be on us in an instant.”
By midmorning, they were climbing hard. The wolves followed, and they would see one now and again. The animals were not giving up and appeared unfazed to be moving north. They followed more closely as time passed. Then the trail opened out to a flat clearing about twenty yards across.
“I tire of this. Let’s deal with them here,” Micaela said. “Come on,” she instructed as she started running across the clearing with the other three following closely. The wolves moved quickly after them, based on the “if it runs, chase it” principle, which had always served them well.
This time, it was different. The girls stopped just inside the trees on the far side of the clearing and turned to face the wolves. The animals slid to a stop, confused that their quarry had ceased running. As they milled around in the center of the clearing, Micaela counted eight. A young male nipped at an older male that Micaela took for the leader. The young pretender was apparently frustrated that the alpha male wasn’t attacking, and if something didn’t happen soon, he would attack by himself. To Micaela, it looked as if the young wolf were making a mistake. The leader was huge, easily 50 percent bigger than any of the others. He was speckled gray and black, with white jowls that betrayed his age. He ignored the younger wolf as well as the others as they moved nervously about. He stood very still, his eyes focused on Micaela, staring right into her eyes. She felt unnerved, her knees weak.
Three of the creatures loped into the forest to the east, planning to flank the girls, get behind them, and drive them into the open. Ah, Ixchel thought, we should move early—before they are ready. Seeing Micaela’s blank expression, she tapped her on the shoulder with the shaft of her spear. “Get control,” she whispered.
Explaining her plan quickly, Ixchel stepped into the clearing with the other girls following. The big wolf—assuming they were being driven out by the flankers’ pressure on their rear—charged. The sight was breathtaking. His initial rush threw clumps of dirt into the air, and he melded into the shape of an arrow flying low to the ground. His ears were back, and his head extended, and he accelerated to unbelievable speed as he closed the gap between himself and Ixchel. She stood, seemingly frozen in the face of the charge of the massive animal. Behind him, the other wolves howled their encouragement. Then, with almost no time before the inevitable impact, Ixchel dropped to one knee, found purchase in the ground for the butt of the spear, and raised the obsidian tip to meet the charging wolf.
Impact! The wolf leaped the last five feet, his eyes fixed on Ixchel’s throat. Ixchel’s left arm involuntarily moved up to guard her neck. Then the spear tip penetrated the wolf’s chest but did not slow the creature at all. The full impact of the two-hundred-pound animal knocked Ixchel over as the dead creature’s teeth closed around her arm. The pack of wolves released a fretful howl and suddenly froze in place.
The other girls rushed to Ixchel. “Are you all right?” Micaela cried as she and Eijá dragged her out from under the wolf.
“Yes, I’m all right,” she said, obviously shaken. “Is he dead?”
“Very,” Micaela answered. “You were wonderful.”
“I was so scared,” Ederra said. “I thought you were over when you just stood there while the wolf charged. You were so brave!”
“Well, thank you,” Ixchel said, catching her breath. “Now we need to deal with the rest of them. Kick him until he’s bloody. It will depress the others.”
The four girls proceeded to kick and beat the dead animal, much to the consternation of the other wolves, who howled in dismay. Micaela slipped the obsidian knife from its sheath, reached between his hind legs, cut off his testicles, ran toward the wolves, and threw them into the center of the pack. They scattered about ten feet in every direction except Micaela’s.
Then the three wolves that had entered the forest appeared behind the girls. They started to advance and then paused, hearing the whining of the others and seeing the corpse of their leader. One of them growled and approached. Eijá, who had been poking the dead wolf with her spear, whirled with the grace of a dancer and impaled the foremost. He pulled back and freed himself as he emitted a loud cry, and his two comrades slunk back into the woods. The four wolves in the clearing stood silently, watching. The wounded creature moved toward Eijá, not seeing Ederra as she worked her way toward him from the side. He started a weak lunge toward Eijá, changed his mind, and turned back toward the forest—right into Ederra’s spear.
“OK,” Eijá said as he fell, “let’s pound on him for a while. That will dishearten them.”
Micaela extended her arm, repeated the castration, and again threw the wolf’s testicles into the center of the pack.
After the surviving wolves had escaped to the south, the girls lingered in the clearing for four days as they butchered the two wolves and smoked the meat. Then they moved upstream into the gorge.
Two days later, they stood on the beach where the two rivers joined below the big drop. “Well, we sure cannot go up the river,” Micaela said. “There are no banks where it runs through the canyon, and there are rapids to the south.”
“It looks impossible to navigate,” Eijá said, “but the Raiders did it, so there is a way.”
“I wish we had seen them do it,” Micaela said. “We’ve never been river people. But we can learn.” The four sat by the river for an hour, studying it and thinking. They noticed that the flow was slower than when they had seen it last.
“I wonder if it freezes,” Ixchel said.
“Maybe,” Micaela said cautiously. “The flow is certainly less in the winter and greater in the spring as the snow melts. The Raiders made it down on the fall flows. Perhaps that is the time—not too much, not too little.”
“Late fall would be convenient because we would want to bring our goods down to the Lowland in the autumn.”
Worst Fear Realized
“Well, for now, we’ll have to go up the drop or around to the east,” Micaela said.
“Up the drop is the fastest way, but we have to go up single file. We’ll be vulnerable until we’re all up there,” Eijá said.
“I’ll go first,” Ederra volunteered and started toward the base of the trail.
Micaela looked at Ixchel, who shrugged and pointed to herself behind Ederra’s back. Micaela knew what she was indicating and agreed that it should be Ixchel, their best fighter, going first. But neither wanted to hurt Ederra’s feelings.
“Ederra,” Micaela called, “leave everything that you are carrying other than weapons, so you will be ready when you reach the top. We three
will divide what you were taking and bring it up.”
It was easier to balance while going up the narrow path by hugging the face of the cliff than it had been coming down, and they were young and healthy, so they made good progress. Then, at the very top, Ederra made a fatal mistake. Just before gaining the summit, just one step short, she swung her spear hand forward to achieve momentum. When she was almost to the top, the end of the spear extended past the top of the cliff, and as it did, someone grabbed it behind the tip and jerked it out of her hand. Her foot was in the air, her body leaning forward, leaving her no option but to complete the next step. She did pull her arm back and secure her knife before a man grabbed her left arm as her upper body cleared the top. He pulled her forward, and she pivoted toward him, extending the knife and catching him just under the rib cage. He screamed, alerting the other three girls.
The six men were outcasts who, banished by the Raiders, had been camped on the top of the drop while they wondered where to go and what to do next. They had been thrown out of the Raiders’ camp for fighting and theft. Caddarak would not accept them into his breakaway group, either. They had been discussing their next move when they heard someone coming up the path. They had no idea who it was until they saw the girl.
“Grab her,” the leader said, slow to realize that his companion had been stabbed. “Block the top of the trail. Do not let her men up. You two,” he ordered, pointing at two of his men, “get her!” Ederra slashed the closest one across his shoulder before the two finally subdued her.
“Gather your things and take the girl. We’ll keep her men from getting up until you have a good head start. We will meet you at the lake camp tonight and have some fun with the girl.” He grinned.
The three girls on the path below were stymied. They could not even see the men above, as a slight overhang jutted out over the last section of the trail. The trail was too narrow for more than one of them at a time to meet the enemy, and it was very steep. Ixchel was at the fore but could do little other than make threatening gestures toward the men above. The men knew that they needed only one to hold the top, and one had gone to collect his gear.
Upon returning, he said, “OK, I’m set. You gather your stuff, and I’ll guard the trail.”
Ederra felt a deep rage as she struggled with the two men trying to bind her hands and hobble her. She knew all too well what they meant by “having fun with her,” and she was not going to go through that, never again. Remembering Ullah’s bravery and sacrifice at this very place, she went completely limp, causing her captors to lose their grip. Pushing from the ground, she launched toward the man guarding the top of the path. The canyon walls echoed the sound of her cry, and she charged, head down, aiming at his midriff. Hearing Ederra’s war cry, Ixchel pushed forward quickly, followed closely by the other two.
Ederra struck the guard at full speed, and the force of the impact carried them both over the edge. Ixchel saw a blur as she felt them go by her. Then she was out in the open on top. The warrior guarding the pass had turned away, distracted by Ederra’s cry. Ixchel speared him in the back, first turning the blade horizontally, as Danijel had taught her. “If it hits the rib off center,” he had said, it will slide off and penetrate between the ribs. However unlikely, it may hit the perfect center of the rib. Then it will split the rib and go through. Ribs are not as strong longitudinally. Either way, your opponent is dead.”
It hit a rib off center, and she felt it slide past and pierce the man’s heart. She smiled.
The three girls charged toward the other two men who had held Ederra. But they were too late to save her.
As Micaela came off the path, she threw her axe at the leader, hoping to distract him. To her surprise, the blade embedded itself in his forehead, almost bisecting his head. He dropped. The man Ederra had stabbed lay at Micaela’s feet, trying vainly to squelch the flow of blood. That left three of them staring dumbfounded at the appearance of three girls sans men. They were still holding their packs as the girls lowered their spears and advanced. Only one escaped, and he was trailing blood so badly that Micaela didn’t think it necessary to pursue. “He will not get far.”
“That was Ederra that went over the edge?” Eijá asked, somewhat rhetorically, as if she didn’t want to believe it.
“She took one that guarded the trail with her.”
“She learned that from Ullah’s action right in this place,” Micaela said.
“Well, we were not getting up here otherwise. She knew her situation was hopeless and made the best of it.”
“I’m sure what happened to me was in her mind,” Eijá said.
They discussed going back down the drop to bury Ederra. “That would be foolish,” Micaela said. “I’ve had two bad experiences here. If we go down, we might be barred from the top by yet another group. If we leave one person at the top to guard the way, she may be overpowered as I was.”
“We are better prepared and armed than you were,” Ixchel said.
“Yes, but still, it’s an unnecessary risk. Ederra would understand.”
In the end, they agreed that she would, and they pressed on north, now only three.
As they entered the clearing of sliding rock, they saw a young girl wrapped in a heavy fur scurrying away into the forest. Micaela recognized her as Lofn, the young girl of the Raiders who had wanted to learn basket weaving.
“Lofn, Lofn, come back. It’s me, Micaela, the basket weaver. We will not hurt you.”
When there was no response, Micaela said to the others, “Let’s make camp here for the night. I think once she recognizes me and sees there are no men with us, she will come out.”
“Now is when we really miss Ederra,” Eijá said. They all nodded; Ederra had done most of the cooking for the group. This night Micaela stepped in with her steamed vegetables, and Ixchel cleaned and cooked two rabbits she had snared. As the rabbit meat roasted over the campfire, filling the air with a delicious smell, Lofn stepped out of the woods on the far side of the clearing.
“Micaela, is that really you?” she asked.
“It is, and these are my friends, Eijá and Ixchel. We will not hurt you. What are you doing here?”
Lofn moved slowly toward them, appearing to be ready to bolt. “I’m starving.”
“Well, come, share some of our food. We have plenty, thanks to Ixchel’s hunting skill.”
Later, stomach full, the girl told them her story. “They wanted me to marry an old man, an ugly man with two wives already. I had been talking with the other girls. I know what is expected, and the thought of dropping to my knees before him and what came after disgusted me. The thought of the ritual feeding with him made me sick. I knew I would not be able to do it, so I ran away the day after Caddarak left.”
“Caddarak left?” Micaela asked.
“He did. He and about fifty others.”
“Why did they leave?”
“I don’t know. They said nothing to anyone that I know of. We woke in the morning, and they were gone. I thought to catch up and join them, and may still try, but I don’t know where they went. Most likely south. I can find them…” she tapered off.
Micaela looked at Eijá and Ixchel. “What do you think about her staying with us? I worked with her when I was a prisoner of the Raiders. She is a hard worker and interested in basket weaving.”
“Yeah,” Eijá said, “she can help carry some of this stuff.”
Ixchel nodded.
“So it’s settled. Lofn, you may join us if you wish. We are going north, up to visit the Cliff Dwellers. We plan to purchase inventory for the store we are starting in the Lowland. Among other items, we’ll have our baskets to trade, and combs. In fact, we have an exclusive deal for the combs.”
“What’s a comb?” Lofn asked.
“I’m glad you asked,” Micaela said, smiling. She reached into her pack and extracted her comb. “Let me show you.”
As she combed out the girl’s hair, Micaela questioned her while the other two listened and
judged. “So, Lofn, by your actions—running away from your chosen mate—I gather you no longer believe in multiple mates for men and that they are the Chosen? You once told me that your people were selected by God to go forth and to populate the world, spreading the word of the one true God.”
“Perhaps I would not have run away if my chosen mate was not old and ugly.” Lofn smiled brightly. “If he had been young, handsome, with a large…” She giggled. “Well, you know. It might have been different.”
“Really?” Micaela asked.
“No, silly, not really. I’m kidding,” she said with a broad smile. “I never believed that nonsense. But I had to pretend I did. We all did,” she said, her smile fading. “It’s easier if you pretend to yourself, too.”
“Would it not be strange if everyone was pretending?” Ixchel said.
Lofn sniggered and smiled broadly.
“So,” Micaela asked, “is it settled? Lofn will join us?”
“Yes,” Eijá and Ixchel exclaimed together.
“Lofn?” she asked.
“Yes.” Lofn’s eyes teared, and there were hugs all around before they went to sleep, bundled together to keep the cold of the night at bay.
Half Price
Two days later, negotiations were going well with the Cliff Dwellers, though there were some misunderstandings. The replacement of flint with obsidian surprised them, but they understood the reasons.
“It’s not that obsidian is worth more than flint; it’s just that flint is now worth less,” Micaela was explaining to the council. “Obsidian has replaced flint for use as arrowheads, spear tips, knives, and most cutting devices. It is better—sharper and more durable, though a little more brittle. But the applications are the same, as is the value. The rate of exchange for obsidian pieces is the same as flint was.”
