Cave Bear Mountain

by Jo Sandhu

  Utu returned to Tarin’s shoulder and folded his wings. The sound he made low in his throat was like a growl.

  Valo pushed himself to his feet and spat in the dirt. He wiped his mouth and glanced up again at Tarin, broken, but with a spark of hate deep inside. Tarin could see it in his eyes, as clouded as they were.

  He knows he is weak, thought Tarin. He knows it, and fears it.

  ‘Tell me, boy,’ Valo said and spat on the ground again. ‘What is your totem?’

  ‘Owl,’ said Tarin. ‘You know Owl has protected me all my life.’

  ‘Then what is that on your shoulder, if not a token from the Earth Mother?’ Valo’s voice was filled with venom. ‘What better token would She have sent to you? And when you were far from Mammoth Clan, and you took Wolf as your guide, did the Mother not give you another token? Why do you not see? Are you so blind? You, who think to be Spirit Keeper.’

  With that, he turned and hobbled away and, as one, the clan gasped and turned to look at Utu, Rohk and Nilkka. Rohk grinned, showing his teeth. Nilkka rubbed her head against Tarin and stood on her hind legs to lick his face. Tarin staggered as Utu tweaked his ear.

  ‘The animals,’ Kaija said with a gasp. ‘They are the tokens!’

  Tarin felt the air rush from his lungs. His blood surged through his veins like a river in the height of Spring. Sounds and voices crowded him, until he felt as though he were drowning.

  The animals . . . their Clan . . . their guides . . .

  ‘Ha!’ Kalle’s mighty voice broke through the chaos. He lifted Tarin off his feet and thumped him on the back. ‘My boy has returned! My boy, who walks with Wolf and flies with Owl, has returned to Mammoth Camp!’

  The sound of the mammoth skull drums echoed around the earth-lodge and in the blood that pulsed through Tarin’s veins. These were the rhythms of his clan, and they were as much a part of him as the colour of his eyes, or the shape of his hand. A trickle of sweat ran down Jarkko’s face as he played the drum, and he winked at Tarin as the rhythm changed.

  Sing your song . . .

  He could almost hear Minna’s voice, and softly, his lips

  began to move.

  Owl and Wolf and Mammoth and Eagle and Lion and Bear and Deer.

  Tarin let his gaze travel around the lodge, and felt his heart was full. The tangle of bones rose above him, glowing white in the flickering firelight. The thick bison and mammoth fur rugs beneath him smelt of smoke. He wore clean clothes of softest reindeer hide. His belly was full of stew. Even his hair was clean.

  Salla had forcibly held his head under the water while she soaped him vigorously with crushed soaproot. The woman had sobbed in his arms as he told her news of Kai, and she had given him a gift of a fine wooden spear. When Tarin had told them of the bone spear-points, even Hanno had sniffed and shaded his eyes with his large hand.

  Across the fire, Tarin’s eyes met Luuka’s. He had also been scrubbed and clean clothes provided. He sat with Rohk at his feet. Next to him, Miika and Markku examined the spear thrower. It had caused much comment when Luuka first produced it.

  Behind Markku, half in the shadows, stood Matti. Tarin’s gaze rested on him thoughtfully, and he felt a hard lump in the bottom of his stomach. The anger would always be there, he thought. Always. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard. Matti raised his eyes as though he could feel the weight of Tarin’s stare. Tarin met the big man’s gaze steadily, and it was Matti who looked away first. Tarin drew in a deep breath.

  Kaija sat beside him, talking softly with Tuuli. His sister’s hand rested lightly on her softly rounded stomach – a sign of the new life that was growing inside her.

  ‘Salla has asked Luuka and I to share Reindeer Lodge,’ Kaija said. She scratched Nilkka around the neck and the wolf sighed in pleasure. ‘I said we’d like that and we can talk to her of Kai. She misses him so much.’

  Tarin nodded. There were so many changes to Mammoth Clan. Jarmo and little Eva were gone, and also Raisa and her son, Erik. He heard they had decided to join together and find a new life with a new clan. Tarin was sorry he might never see them again.

  ‘Maija also offered us a home, but with Tuuli and Jarkko sharing with her and Niko, and now a new baby on the way . . .’

  Tarin let her voice wash over him. There was emptiness, he thought, where Asa, Ilmi and Eero once used to be. Too much emptiness. And yet, life continued. He watched Tuuli and Jarkko together, imagining them in years to come with their own family.

  He raised his eyes to the smoke hole in the ceiling and watched the spiral of smoke drift away. Utu hooted softly from the rafters. The feathers around his eyes were growing darker, like a mask. By Winter’s end, he would be full-grown.

  ‘People of the Mammoth, Blessed of the Earth Mother.’ Kalle’s voice rose, and the songs began. Tarin swayed with the lilting chants, murmuring softly beneath his breath.

  They are good songs, Tarin Owl. Almost, he could hear Minna’s voice.

  ‘They are good songs, Wolf Bird,’ he whispered. He touched the carved bone she had given him, now hanging around his neck.

  Markku banged the heavy mammoth bone staff into the ground, and Old Father prepared to tell a story. Tarin let his attention wander. He was so familiar with Old Father’s stories. Tonight, he wanted to drink in all the sights and smells that he had missed for so long. But something was different about Old Father’s words tonight. Tarin brought his attention back to the old man and listened.

  ‘And so, Tarin, the great traveller, journeyed down rivers, through the mighty forests, and across the mountains, to reach the greatest mountain of them all – the Mother’s Mountain . . .’

  ‘Ice Bringer,’ Tarin murmured. He felt warm inside as he thought of Worj and his clan, but also great sorrow. Never again would he be a hunter of the Esi.

  But his sorrow disappeared as his mother reached for his hand. Her skin felt rough and warm. She smiled at him and touched his face, as though she could barely believe he sat next to her. Tarin turned to look for his father. Kalle had not stopped smiling since Tarin’s return. His big laugh filled the air, and he frequently let his gaze settle on the wolves in amazement. Rohk had become a firm favourite with the big man, happy to wrestle with him. Nilkka preferred to cuddle with Saara, who rarely left her side.

  Tarin smiled as his gaze swept the lodge. He felt a warm glow, happy to be home with his clan. Sanna-Leena returned his smile, holding her baby. Maikki was now walking, and he repeatedly tried to reach one of the wolves. Rohk licked him gently as he grabbed a handful of fur in his chubby fist.

  Hanno said very little, but he kept filling Tarin’s cup with his version of pozhr. It was his speciality, made with the tiny golden berries of the tundra. It made Tarin’s head spin. Even Maija smiled at him, as she heard over and over how he had saved Niko from sure death. Tarin’s warm glow faltered only when his gaze rested on Taavo.

  His brother still looked pale, and Kaija had been against him and Miika leaving their furs, but Kalle had wanted all of Mammoth Clan to be at the Welcome Home feast in his son’s honour. Taavo sat still and alone in the corner of the lodge, and didn’t speak. Tarin thought of going to him, but Salla was talking.

  ‘Hanno will carve your Owl totem on the tooth from the dagger-tooth, and drill a small hole in the base. It will replace the pendant you lost on the mountain.’

  Tarin nodded his thanks. He would wear both pendants. One with all his totems, and another, a special one, just for Owl. It felt right to do so, after all he and Owl had been through. His fingers touched Minna’s pendant and he wondered. These other totem marks, Spirit of Eagle and Lion and Bear and Deer, he had yet to meet, and now, maybe he never would. But just like Owl, he knew they would be there to watch over him, no matter what he decided. He turned again to look for Taavo, and their eyes met. His brother nodded, solemnly.

  ‘This is very good,’ Kaija said, tipping her cup back and draining the last drops.

  Tarin looked at his cup and realised it had been f
illed again. He swallowed deeply and watched Matti reach forward to run his hand along the spear thrower. Tarin almost jumped to his feet to snatch the thrower away from him. He clenched his teeth together and glowered.

  ‘Matti is the master hunter of the clan?’ Kaija asked. Tarin nodded. ‘Then of course he’s interested in a new way to hunt,’ she said.

  ‘I don’t want him touching it.’ Even to his own ears, Tarin sounded sulky. He scowled at his cup and took another drink.

  Kaija clicked her tongue in annoyance.

  Tarin waved his hands in Matti’s direction. ‘How can they just pretend nothing has happened? They should have fought him.’

  Kaija rubbed the back of her neck and looked unhappy. She bit her lip.

  ‘Tarin,’ she said hesitantly. ‘You don’t know what it was like.’ Tarin held a hand up to stop her but she continued.

  ‘I’ve been talking with Tuuli. Things got worse after you left. The children were starving. They had to make a choice.’

  Tarin turned away from her and stared at the bottom of his empty cup.

  ‘Look at him, Tarin.’ Kaija sounded sharp. ‘What do you see?’

  Tarin stared at the ground, unwilling to look across the fire. He plucked the thick strands of mammoth fur and tangled it in his fingers.

  ‘Well, I’ll tell you what I see,’ Kaija said. ‘I see an old man with haunted eyes.’

  Tarin looked up in surprise, and followed Kaija’s gaze.

  ‘I see a man who has known hunger, and fear,’ Kaija continued. ‘And a man who probably doesn’t sleep very well at night. See the shadows beneath his eyes, and the way his hand shakes?’

  Tarin studied the big man, trying to see him through the eyes of a stranger. He noticed for the first time the deep lines running down Matti’s face, the way his shoulders stooped and his muscles hung loose on his frame. He saw the grizzled hair and weary eyes. When did Matti become so old? he wondered. And Kalle was the elder brother. Tarin turned his attention to his father, and was struck by the similarities. They were both old men. He had never seen that before, even though he knew his father had passed forty Summers.

  ‘What would you have done if it was your child about to starve?’ Kaija’s voice was close to his ear. ‘How do you choose between your mother and your child?’

  ‘I . . . don’t know.’

  Different choices, he thought. Different songs. And sometimes, neither choice is right.

  Sometimes, our song will bring sadness, but we still have to sing it.

  He closed his eyes and tried to imagine a child of his starving – but he couldn’t make that leap. He couldn’t imagine himself with a child. He opened his eyes and saw Saara lying on top of Rohk, giggling as she listened to the wolf ’s heartbeat. Saara, then, he thought. What would he do if Saara was starving? But it was still a leap his mind refused to make.

  ‘Not that,’ he whispered in an anguished voice. ‘Not that.’ He shook his head. ‘The Mammutti have a saying: In our Elders, we find our strength and our wisdom.’ He pounded his fist into his palm. ‘So to send them to their death is . . . is . . . incomprehensible.’

  But there was another saying he suddenly remembered.

  The starving wolf has the fiercest bite . . .

  They fell silent, then Kaija tilted her head towards Valo, sitting in the shadows, watching the smoke spiral upwards. ‘Not all your Elders perished,’ she said.

  A chill made Tarin shiver.

  ‘Ilmi knew she didn’t have long to walk in this world,’ he murmured. He thought of the amber bead, lying far beneath the mountain. He dropped his head into his hands and groaned. ‘Everywhere I look, I see their faces.’

  His voice felt raw in his throat. He felt the warm touch of tears on his cheeks and brushed them away angrily. What kind of man cries like a helpless child? He pushed the heel of his palms into his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘How can I live with myself if I do nothing?’

  Kaija didn’t answer immediately. She stroked Tarin’s hand and considered her words.

  ‘You may have to,’ she said finally. ‘It may be the only way to rebuild Mammoth Clan.’ She looked around the lodge and Tarin saw her lips move as she counted the faces clustered around the fire. Tuuli and Jarkko were singing softly, their voices blending in a sad harmony. Markku picked up his sleeping baby and tucked him against his chest. Sanna-Leena leant back against him and they both swayed in time with the music.

  ‘They’ve suffered. They’ve grieved, and now they have moved on. You have to accept that, Tarin. If Mammoth Clan is to survive the coming Winter, now is the time for every member of the clan to work together.’

  Let go of the hate in your heart, Tarin . . . He heard Kai’s voice.

  Tarin sat silently. Aila and Salla took up the song, their voices rising clear in the night. Then Kalle and Hanno joined in, their deep voices adding richness to the sweet tones of the women. In the shadows, Helvi took Matti’s hand and held it to her cheek.

  Tarin felt something shift inside. The cold lump of anger moved, and resettled. Still there, but softer now. And sadder. He felt a tear escape, but this time, he didn’t wipe it away. It was reflected in the eyes of many of the men around the fire.

  ‘And what about you and Luuka?’ he asked, his voice soft, and his eyes staring at the dancing flames. ‘Will you stay and help?’

  Kaija shifted her shoulders. She looked at her brother on the other side of the fire.

  ‘I don’t know about Luuka,’ she said quietly. ‘But I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay here, Tarin. And become Kaija of Mammoth Clan.’

  Tarin walked in the early dawn to the granite rocks above the camp. Violet streaked the sky and the wind smelt of dried grass. He breathed in, holding the scent of his home deep within.

  Old Father sat on the rock overlooking the river. It was a place he had sat many times, and in the years to come, it was how Tarin would remember him.

  ‘Every morning, I have the boy carry me here.’ Valo’s gaze never left the billowing grasslands that stretched endlessly to the horizon. ‘I sit here, and taste the wind, and dream my dreams.’ He closed his eyes as the wind lifted fine strands of thin, white hair. ‘It is good to see you again, Tarin of Mammoth Clan, or is it Tarin of Wolf Clan? Can your heart truly belong to two clans?’

  Tarin shaded his eyes against the rising sun. Below him, near the river crossing, Luuka and Kaija were demonstrating the spear thrower. Luuka launched a spear. It travelled far, arcing upwards. Niko ran to retrieve it. Excited voices drifted up to them.

  ‘You have grown old, Valo,’ Tarin said.

  ‘I am Eldest.’ Valo’s chuckle turned into a wheeze. Tarin waited while he caught his breath. ‘I have outlived so many. For a time, I thought I would outlive your father. And until yesterday, I was sure I had outlived you.’

  Tarin studied the old man. Once he had seemed frightening and ever-lasting. Now, his skin stretched taught across his bones and his breath was as dry and as brittle as the grasses that fed the great herds.

  ‘Are you sorry?’ Tarin said. ‘You sent me on a quest there was little hope of surviving.’

  ‘And yet, here you are, little rabbit.’

  ‘As you are, Old Father, despite a Winter so harsh you sent others to their deaths.’

  Valo’s dark eyes flashed. ‘You dare to disagree with me? Would you have the clan lose their Spirit Keeper?’

  ‘Better to lose a Spirit Keeper than a child.’ Tarin’s own eyes flashed. He turned his gaze back to the river.

  Old Father wheezed. ‘So, not such a little rabbit after all.’ He coughed and spat bloodstained sputum onto the rocks. ‘The little rabbit has claws and teeth. I think you have become a wolf, Tarin, son of Kalle. But what manner of wolf will you be?’ The old man tilted his head to one side and considered. ‘Will you be a wolf of the pack, who runs with the hunt and hides in your burrow when the cold wind blows? Or will you be as the grey wolf, who roams the barren lands alone, never to feel the warmth of companion- sh
ip and family? What is your choice, boy?’

  ‘Perhaps the choice is not mine to make.’ Tarin raised a hand to Utu and stroked his feathers. ‘Spirit of Owl will always lead me.’

  He narrowed his eyes. A man was approaching the river from the other side. He was unfamiliar and approached the group below with hands upraised. Jarkko stepped forward and held his own hands out. Miika moved forward to stand next to Kaija and Tarin frowned.

  Old Father chuckled. ‘Another visitor. Strangers are always of great interest.’

  Tarin chewed his lip and didn’t answer.

  Old Father laughed. ‘What is your fear, boy? Mammoth Clan will survive now.’

  ‘Yes, it will.’ Mammoth Clan would survive. Tarin knew that in his heart. He had brought it a healer. He had brought it a new way to hunt. And he had brought two new hunters. And that is what they needed now. He might never again fly with Owl. He might never again run with Wolf. But his clan would live and thrive.

  He watched Rohk and Nilkka race across the grasslands, their bodies at full stretch. Saara ran behind them, as fast as her small legs could carry her. Her fair braids flew in the wind and the sound of her laughter carried upwards. He had brought more than tangible gifts with him, he thought. His return had brought hope.

  ‘And what of me, boy?’ Valo’s voice was low and bitter. ‘I, who was there the day you were born, twisted and weak?’

  Tarin studied him with grave eyes, eyes that had seen so much since he had first left Mammoth Clan. ‘My body may have been weak and twisted, but my heart never was.’ He faced Valo fully. ‘It is your heart, Valo, that has become twisted. There is no love there, for your clan or your people. And yet you call yourself Spirit Keeper?’ Tarin shook his head. ‘I don’t understand that, but it is between you and the Great Mother. When you finally make your journey to the Spirit World, how will you face her? How will you face your clan, your people that have gone before you, those you have betrayed?’