by S E Turner
'We head north to the mountain,' signalled Namir as he mounted his ride. 'Just follow the summit.' A cacophony of heaving bodies pushing up from lengthened stirrups, and weighted down horses finding their balance preceded the rattle of movement.
The second stage was under way, but it seemed to take forever to work their way through the enormous dense forest. It was a vast maze of narrow tracks and passageways hindered by corridors of bracken and brambles.
'I didn't think it would be this difficult getting through,' shouted out Lyall, pulling a hogweed from his boot.
'Just keep your eyes on the summit,' urged Namir.
'But it keeps disappearing behind the trees,' yelled out Rufus, craning from his front position.
'Follow the largest birds, then,' suggested Siri. 'They circle high in the sky.'
'That's my totem,' the youngster shouted back. 'The falcon, she looks after me.'
'Then look out for her, little one, and she will lead you home.'
The train pushed through the matted undergrowth, brushing away the thicket with purposeful steps. Every now and then, a small creature skittered away as the procession disturbed them. The horses spooked. A wood pigeon or grouse was panicked into flight and made them sidle. For extraordinarily strong animals, they were extremely skittish. The boys were getting edgy as well. The glade was becoming all too familiar at every turn. Trees, boulders, bushes, they all bore the same resemblance, and the clan started to panic. The horses felt their fear, they responded to the twitchy nervous muscles from their pillions.
All except Meteor. His rider had every trust in their leader. She didn't once doubt Namir or his navigational skills, and her horse never flinched or felt unsettled. He carried his warrior like a war horse. She patted him, encouraged him, guided him, and soothed him and they both felt at ease. Finally, the trees and vegetation began to thin out and the welcome sight of the wide plains opened up before them.
'At last,' cried out Lyall. 'I thought we were going round in circles.'
'What! With me at the helm, brother?' called back Namir. 'Never!'
The clans howled with laughter, but most of it was relief. Bagwa had spent a good deal of the journey telling anyone who would listen of hunters getting lost and going round in circles. 'When you are lost, the tendency is to go right all the time,' he had said.
But now, with home in sight, they found extra vigour, and the horses responded to the sight of the sweeping wilderness by charging into a gallop.
'Now we can fly.' Skyrah's voice echoed as it was caught in the flying tendrils of Meteor's mane, and she looked back to see the other boys leaping with great strides into the thrill of the ride.
As the clans surged forward, the rattle of hooves echoed in the canyon, eating up the ground and spraying out debris of grit and sand. It was a good surface for the horses and gave them a welcome stretch, but this would be the last time they could gallop for a while. The ground would now become treacherous and uneven. It would have been impassable for the General and his entourage of wagons, but the boys could do it easily with their horses and light load.
The boys steadied to a trot and at the entrance of the pass, they halted.
'Look!' Cried out Rufus with excitement.
They all looked up to see a peregrine falcon swooping down from the top of the mountain range, and hover in the air, looking for prey.
'The lord of the skies,' he acknowledged with admiration.
'The horses have uncovered their lunch, I do believe,' said Norg from the back.
'Yes, lots of small rodents for them to gorge on,' replied Ronu. 'The best hunters in the skies, they are.'
'This is why it's called the Giant's Claw. Just look at the size of those talons,' called out Siri.
'I think it's because of the Mountain Lions that once lived here,' replied Namir turning round on his mount.
'No mountain lions have ever lived here. It's always been falcons and eagles.'
'Not so, Siri,' responded Namir. 'My father has always told us the story of a traveller who was chased into our settlement by a mountain lion.'
'Really?' cried out Rufus who was now more impressed with the story of the lion.
'They don't live here anymore, though,' intercepted Dainn.
'Of course, they don't. That was the last one. Just eagles and falcons live here now,' smiled Namir, appeasing Dainn's concern.
'Tell us the story then,' urged everyone.
So, as the horses jostled for position, Namir entertained the boys with the story of the traveller who encountered a ferocious mountain lion and lived to tell the tale.
The posse continued their journey through the canyon and witnessed the raw beauty unfolding before them. Miles upon miles of rolling hills and wooded river valleys scattered themselves along the fringe of the mountain and allowed respite and cover for small rodents and birds. Natural caves and waterfalls had been gouged out of the mountain, providing feeding grounds and homes for larger mammals.
Their route into the gorge exposed the intersection of the River Awe. Following it in a south westerly direction would take the Hill Fort Tribe home, the other would lead the Clan of the Giant's Claw back to safety, and the route in a northerly direction, would lead the Clan of the Mountain Lion.
The daylight hours had brought an abundance of sunshine with a crisp air and a slight breeze which kept the temperature calm and pleasant. Soft winds cradled worn faces, and as they stood in the estuary that divided the river source, the coolness of the water was a much-needed break that refreshed the boys and the horses.
'This is where we split up, men,' Namir stood tall in his saddle. 'This is where this particular journey ends.'
'I know the way from here,' said Siri. 'I can guide Dainn and his clan back to the Hill Fort.' '
Thanks, Siri. Safety in numbers,' nodded Dainn.
'Thank you for saving us, Skyrah. I will never forget you.' Rufus was humbled.
'That's from all of us,' declared Dainn. 'We are all indebted to you, brave lady.'
'To Skyrah.' The spasm echoed round the crest of the mountain and alerted the birds of prey into flight.
She beamed at the accolade.
'We all know what we must do. We get the youngsters back to their mothers and we get an army,' began Namir. 'We don't know what size legion the General will be left with, but we must be prepared for an onslaught.'
'We will send out messengers to collect information and inform all of you,' said Lyall with strength.
Skyrah felt a chill run down her spine.
'We wait to hear from you. All of you… may the gods protect you,' said Dainn. 'Let's get these young ones back home and gather our supporters.'
'We shall meet again, and when we do, vengeance will be ours,' triumphed Siri.
All arms were raised in a triumphant salute and the boys parted. Namir's words stayed with them as they ventured back to their homesteads. 'Go and find your armies, men. Take care as you go, and when we meet again, we will get our revenge for all those stolen boys.'
The clan of the Mountain Lion started upstream along the watercourse that flowed near a ravine, then they began ascending the mountain along a tributary creek, forcing their way through heavy underbrush. They stopped by a steep rock wall over which the creek spilled in a cascading spray. The wall presented a barrier that ran parallel to the gorge. They followed the course of the gorge and began to follow it upstream again. They began their ascent up the challenging stocky glacier. Home wasn't far away now, but the only way was up and over the rocky edged perimeter, an arduous course which required the skill of the horsemen to guide their animals round to the other side in safety. As they edged forwards and round to the other side, an expanse of land unfolded, and the party remained speechless as they absorbed the spectacular vision.
Pine and spruce dominated the higher elevation and was home to a range of squirrels, birds, and pine martens. The boys embraced the smell of freedom as the wind picked up and the trees thinned out to a familiar sight
. Miles upon miles of grassy foothills were exposed where the trees clustered in sheltered valleys, and the grey brown rock of the mountain soared into the mouth of a cave.
This was easily recognisable. This was Lyall's cave.
The stream they were following gushed into a river, and beyond that was their camp. A falcon had followed them, like a personal guard heralding their return with a haunting cry and saluting her thanks for uncovering a sleepy vole.
Specks of light, born from dusk, bounced off the rock formations and lit the way for the weary troops while a blanket of dazzling dew remained sentinel and highlighted the colours of their clan's peace and tranquillity.
At last they were home. They looked at each other. They were safe. And for the last time on that particular journey, the ten jubilant lads galloped home for a clan's welcoming.
'I can smell the dinner cooking,' cried out Ronu.
'I hope they've got enough for all of us.'
'The odour is reviving every part of me,' said Clebe, galloping even faster towards the camp with Norg close on his heels.
'Come on, you lot. Me and Wyn will race you back.' Lyall dug his heels in to his mount.
But as they entered the safety of their homestead, a stranger was coming into the enormous dense forest. He was on a mission. He wore a grey cloak with a hood and was almost concealed amongst the vegetation. He and his horse could follow the clans; he was an expert in his field, and he could seek them out. The Master had a nose that could track anything that he wanted, and some of them had been a little careless in tidying up and covering their tracks. The Master got off his horse and pulled back his hood. He wanted to hear the forest talking. He pushed back his cape and touched the ground to feel their path. He closed his eyes and plied the soil between his fingers; he held a sample up to his nostrils and breathed in the aroma. 'They came this way,' he assured himself.
He brushed the ground again and carefully destroyed any evidence. He pulled his cape around him and covered his head with the hood.
'I must warn them,' said Meric, his face solemn in the shadows. 'No one will hurt my friends again.'
He got back on his horse and continued the journey that would take him back to the Clan of the Mountain Lion.
Chapter Thirty-Two
He remembered it well. He was en route from his home in the city of Ataxata to find his vocation north of the borders and had been travelling for most of the short winter day in the freezing cold.
His decision to cut through the mountain pass had proved to be a hazardous one. The skies were clear, allowing the temperatures to drop so far below freezing that his horse's breath settled about her muzzle in a delicate web of frozen lace. By mid-afternoon, the mountain top was spraying small particles of such fine ice that made it seem like he was journeying through a kingdom of polished crystal. And as the sun went down, the crystal glacier became treacherous.
'Easy girl, easy. Just take it slow.' He remembered saying.
Up hill and down dale they went, over ridges and steep tracks. She seemed to slide most of the way and was getting skittish and fractious. A pack of howling wolves were following him, but a roar from somewhere out yonder made them scatter. He crouched down low behind his filly's neck and pulled his cloak over him. She was uneasy and whinnied. Her ears rotated constantly, and her nostrils flared wide with fear. He urged her on, convinced that something quite dangerous was following them. A dark shadow moved around the boulders and the crevasses, a creature that was used to this terrain and slid around with ease. They were nearly at the end of the precipice—not too far to go now—and the open expanse of land could be seen.
'Come on, girl. You see that. We will be safely out there soon.'
But something unsettled her, and she skidded. He drove his legs into her sides as he tried to steady her. He was nearly unseated as she reared up and broke into a gallop, taking them out of the pass and onto the plain. Faster and faster they went, thankful for the solid ground. The panting horse created some distance, but a mountain lion was in hot pursuit. With white eyes glaring and flared nostrils snorting, the filly's endurance was tested to the limit as she increased her stride. But the giant had claws which added momentum by gripping its surface, and soon it was catching up.
A village loomed and they made for that, hoping that a man-made civilization would deter the beast. But it didn't. It had food in sight and gained on the stricken filly. As they swung round into the camp, their screams aroused an alarm. The frigid icicles trembled in fear and the ground shook in response. People looked out of their doors in horror, and children were ushered frantically inside .
He remembered hanging on tightly, absolutely rigid and petrified. He felt the carnivore's breath as it gashed his leg. He screamed in agony. The lion wouldn't yield and leapt again. This time, it gripped onto the hind quarters of the exhausted horse. Savage claws ripped into the muscular flesh, and the filly kicked out with her rear legs. Blood oozed from the wounds and filtered into the ground. The smell intensified the grip of the lion, and it sank its hungry incisors into the mature flanks. The horse screeched in pain and reared up. The ice couldn't support her, and she fell. He remembered being thrown and recoiling in terror as the beast wrapped its gigantic jaws around her throat. He couldn't do anything. The wound to his right leg was so deep that it rendered him helpless. Both his arms were gashed from the fall, and he thought his right wrist might be fractured. The petrified animal wouldn't give up and fought for her life against the unrelenting hunter.
But instead of hiding away, the villagers came out. The beast was too engrossed with its primal instinct to notice them. They hammered it with spears, knives, catapults, sling shots and anything else that they could find. They did this again and again until the monster released its grip and let go of the horse. One brave soul took close aim with a spear, lunged towards its heart, and secured its fate. The lion slumped onto its frozen grave. Dead.
The distressed horse was on the ground, exhausted and wounded. She tried to get up but couldn't. Everyone was out of their huts, anxious to find out what had disrupted the onset of eventide. Even the barking pack dogs had left their warm hearths, charging up to the deceased lion and retreating just as quickly. The quiet time of day was now in chaos as never before had anything like this been witnessed. A bustle of anxious faces expressed their concerns.
'Coming into civilisation like that is unheard of. They never leave the mountains. The gods must have sent it to test us.'
'Our clan totem has come to seek out the weak and infirm.'
'No, it sacrificed its life for us to give added strength for the winter months.'
'The horse knew this was her salvation.'
'Comrades, comrades,' came a voice of authority moving everyone aside. 'Let us have some room to give this poor lad and his horse some attention.'
'Yes, they are safe now,' another voice spoke.
'Come men, let's move the carcass and can someone please control those dogs.'
'My horse, please, someone tend to my horse!'
'Your horse will be fine. We will help her,' came the gentle voice of a young woman.
Meric watched as four or five clan females began administering potions and soothing the poor filly. The frightened horse became aware that they were trying to save her and stopped yanking her head up and flashing the whites of her terrified eyes. Horizontal ears now pricked up. Flared nostrils calmed. She dropped her head calmly and let the women do their work.
He heard a voice amongst the chaos and lifted his eyes .
'You see, your horse is in good hands. Please come with me.'
That was fourteen years ago when he was a lad of twenty. He remembered a beautiful woman taking him into a hut and dressing his wounds. She bathed his leg with a piece of soft rabbit skin, then applied a pulp of iris root, spinach and radish leaves to the deepest incisions. Strips of willow bark and cherry wood were wrapped in a secure bandage around his fractured wrist. Another concoction of clover and alder bark was simmerin
g on the hearth. She turned away to mix the brew as he shyly exchanged his ripped trousers for a simple tunic top. The poultice was left in place to aid recovery on his arms and legs, and his feet were bound with warm sheepskin boots to protect them. Finally, she fitted him with the fleece from a boar and gave the soothing potion to relax him.
'You have been through a terrible ordeal,' she said kindly, putting his cloak back over him.
'I have never been so frightened,' he said, grateful for her compassion.
'Your horse will be fine,' she continued, her brilliant blue eyes shining with affection.
'Yes, I will pray for her. He sipped slowly from the moly she had made him and never took his eyes off her as she busied herself sorting out her pharmacopeia and humming a beautiful tune that rested him.
'The wild wind blows through valleys my love
The wild wind blows through the trees
The wild wind blows o'er the rivers my lov e
But will n'er get closer to thee.
The wild rain storms through the valleys my love
The wild rain storms through the trees
The wild rain storms o'er the rivers my love
But none will get closer to thee.'
She was enchanting, with a natural shyness oppressed beneath an exterior that was both charming and intelligent. She had a graceful long neck that supported a defined jaw. Her lips were full under a straight narrow nose, high cheekbones, and huge whirlpool eyes were framed by deep dark eyebrows that matched her tumbling waves of ebony hair.
'Skyrah, stay with the young man and make another mixture of iris root and spinach for him. I will take this solution to his horse.'
The toddler did as she was told and sat with Meric, chewing the root between her teeth and then spitting it out into the shredded spinach and mashed radish. The mother soon came back to tell him that the horse had been taken to a stable to rest and the same poultice was healing her wounds. 'She has had a shock, but she will be back to normal in a few days.'
