by C. S. Bills
Soon you will be wishing for a moment of peace, not more noise from the young ones. Once we all bring these babies of ours out into the Here and Now, you will be surrounded by the smell of wetness coverings and a poolik burping on your sleeping furs and clothes. Rika’s mind speak was gentle, but her eyes twinkled with mischief.
I can hardly wait. Attu placed his hand on Rika’s rounding abdomen and grinned again.
Yural caught Attu’s eye and smiled at his gesture. Attu reddened at his boldness, touching his woman so intimately in front of others, but he did not remove his hand. Ubantu nodded his approval, then rested his own hand on Yural’s growing stomach. She slapped at him, but then snuggled in closer to Ubantu’s side, as if they were newly bonded and expecting their first child, not their third, with two others already grown.
Attuanin, you have surely blessed us all, Attu thought as he lay in his furs that night. He’d given up trying to sleep and had been planning for their leaving instead, but now he considered all that had happened to bring them to this place of expectant waiting and traveling. He prayed that this time they might truly be on their way home.
The People of the Waters set out two suns later. Women and children climbed into the skin boats first, after everything was packed in waterproof sealskin. The skin boats rode low in the water, but the ocean was unusually calm, and Suka had discovered how to stabilize the larger skin boats with poles and the hunters’ single boats rigged out to the side. The outriggers also gave them more space to pack supplies, and the added weight increased the stability of the craft in the water.
Children chattered to each other across the boats, and the men positioned themselves in the rears of the larger family crafts, each spaced far enough apart to avoid colliding when they launched. The day was warm and the sun shone, already high in the sky.
“We won’t get a full day’s travel in,” Ubantu said as he positioned his skin boat next to Attu’s.
“That will give us a chance to strengthen ourselves again for paddling without making us too stiff this first day back in the boats.”
“I hope the women can handle the ride, now that all have had a chance to rest and the babies within have grown.” Ubantu looked anxiously toward Yural, who still stood on the bank. She was dressed in a ceremonial head and shoulder covering made from the soft skins of sea otters and decorated with shells and bright beads.
“She looks beautiful,” Attu whispered. “She is my mother and yet–”
“The beauty and strength of all women shine through her,” Ubantu finished Attu’s thought. “It has been so since she killed Kagit’s third woman and struck down the evil plan of the Ravens. It’s as if the strength of the spirits of the women gone Between has never left her since that day.”
Yural stepped forward and spoke the words of departure, with the few changes she’d made to accommodate travel over open water rather than the ice of the Expanse.
Attu listened to her chanting and moved to stand by his own skin boat as his mother prayed.
“May the waves remain small, and may all the creatures above and below the water, all the spirits of the Between, and all our name spirits grant us passage this day through the Here and Now of the new places we will travel.”
She lifted her arms and moved slowly in a circle, as if to encompass the whole of Nuvikuan-na as she spoke. She stopped, facing the water again, her hands outstretched toward her people and the ocean beyond. “Attuanin, ruler of the deep, we are at your mercy. We follow tradition. See our journey as a faithful one, please, and let us ripple your waters with our small boats in peace.”
As Yural finished her departure prayer, Attu could have sworn he also heard Elder Nuanu speaking with Yural, as she had spoken each day they’d raced across the ice trying to find the large land Elder Tovut had promised them.
“I think Shuantuan may have come to us again in your mother,” Rika said as they pushed off, the last to leave shore.
“That is what Father thinks as well. If so, then we are blessed, indeed.” To have the spirit of Shuantuan, the greatest of all the trysta spirits, inhabiting one of their women was to carry both a strong blessing and a powerful weapon into whatever situation the People of the Waters might encounter.
Their new Clan name still felt strange to Attu, who had spent his entire life as a part of the Ice Mountain Clan. But each hunter now carried the new tattoo of rippling waves on his upper right arm, above his old Clan tattoo. Attu felt his new Clan, made up of Ice Mountain, Great Frozen, and Seer Clan people all set on one goal, was more united as a group than his old Clan had ever been. Each had chosen to be a part of this new Clan, this new adventure, traveling north to a place all prayed would be ideal.
Attu looked ahead to see Suka’s craft far in front of him, leading the way. Suka led well and made good decisions on the water. Attu needed to see his people in front of him, know they were all safe as they traveled. The decision to have their leader’s boat come last had surprised a few of the hunters until Attu had explained his reasons before they set out that first day north. Several of the older hunters had clasped their spears over their chests to show their agreement and respect for Attu’s decision. The rest had joined in. Attu knew then that – quarrels or not over the Gifts and how Attu relied on them to lead his Clan – the other hunters respected him for putting each person’s welfare ahead of his own pride.
“Arrogance leads in front,” Ubantu had complimented him later that evening, “and lets others catch up if they can. But a true leader watches out for his weakest members and protects all.”
Attu smiled to himself now and paddled harder, working to catch up with the skin boat in front of them.
Voices drifted over the water as the Clan moved north. The boats were following each other closely enough to shout between, and Attu looked ahead as a cry echoed off the trees that formed an endless wall of green on their right. A young boy, Ganik, two boats ahead of them, struggled with a large fish on his line. Attu saw the scales sparkling in the sun as Ganik worked to drag the fish over the side.
Rika laughed. “That fish is almost as big as he is. Ganik had better be careful, or he’ll fall in trying to get it in the boat.”
Ganik’s father, Rusik, apparently realized the same thing. He stopped paddling long enough to reach back for the fish. Without pulling it the rest of the way in, he tied a line through the fish’s gills and out its mouth, removing his son’s line. He let the fish slide back into the water, tying the other end of the line to the skin boat. There it would stay alive and fresh until they stopped to eat. Several of the women gave their ululation cry of acclamation to a mighty hunter, and Ganik stood in the boat, his little hands raised in triumph as he balanced precariously on one of the inner supports.
Rika laughed as the boy’s mother pulled him down again. “That child is reckless. I’ve been called to treat his cuts and scratches more than any other boy since Veshria and Rusik joined us from the Seers.”
“He does seem to show no fear,” Attu agreed. “But his mother will make sure Ganik knows he is no mighty hunter just yet.” Attu remembered the scolding his own mother had given him the time he’d taken too much pride in the hunt and hadn’t shown the respect to the animal that it had deserved.
“I wondered about Veshria at first. She seemed...” Rika let her words trail off.
“What?” Attu was distracted, watching two other young boys as they also caught fish. We’ll all eat well when we stop to rest.
“It’s probably nothing,” Rika said. “It just seems that sometimes Veshria is stubborn about the way she does things. She’s eager to show the Nuvik women how things are done among the Seers, but she won’t try anything that the Nuvik women want to show her. She acts like only her way is right about everything, and that’s making it harder for her to fit in with the rest of the women.”
“Oh,” Attu said. He thought about how hard it had been for his Clan to adjust when they first met the Seers. Of course, it was a whole new world for Attu’
s people. Still, Veshria and Rusik might be finding it difficult getting used to the ways of their new Clan. Rusik had seemed fine since joining with Attu’s hunters, but perhaps he was struggling as well.
Attu considered speaking with Rusik and Veshria later to see if there was anything he could do to help them make the adjustment. Then he let it slip from his mind as another child caught a fish and the cry of triumph went up again.
The sun was nearing the western horizon, but all had agreed to continue paddling as long as they could this day. The waters were unusually calm, and the women were all feeling well. The children had run and swum and run some more when the group had stopped to eat and rest at sun high. Even Meavu and Rovek had splashed in the waves like children before disappearing for a while up the small stream near where they had beached their boats.
“Why is that bird circling us?” Rika pointed up to a dark spot in the sky high above them.
“What?” Attu jerked his mind back to the Here and Now.
“Right there. It’s... oh...”
Attu looked up as Rika’s voice trailed off. The bird was some sort of fast-flying kind with powerful wings, and as he watched, he realized the bird was diving straight down toward the boats.
Others saw the bird as well, plummeting through the sky like a stone falling from a great height, its wings now tight to its body.
One of the women cried out as the bird pulled up just a spear throw’s distance from the craft she was in. It hovered there, beating its dark wings for several moments before it rose again in the sky and flew away at high speed. Attu realized his mouth was hanging open. He snapped it shut.
All the boats had halted by now, and Attu and Rika paddled hard to reach the boat where the bird had hovered.
Nuka, the oldest member of their Clan, was seated in front of the small boat Tingiyok was paddling. Tingiyok had been a member of the Seer Clan, but his love for the water had caused him to choose Attu’s Clan when it came time to separate their groups. He easily managed this small craft, with Nuka paddling occasionally as she had the strength. Both had been sensible enough to not panic when the bird fell out of the sky.
“That was no ordinary bird,” Tingiyok said as Attu drew alongside his boat. “It was a falcon.”
“And it looked at us, studied us like it knew us,” Nuka added. She shivered and wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself.
“Nuka is right,” Tingiyok said. “I have not seen such intelligence in a bird’s eyes since the ravens Kagit had spying on our camp.”
“Do you think some of the Ravens are still searching for us?” Rika’s voice was small, and Attu could hear the fear in it.
“I pray not,” Tingiyok said. “We saw their hunters die. How could they send others after us?”
“Unless there are more of them than we knew of, another group that came upon the women and children left behind and are now seeking revenge on us.”
“But why send a falcon instead of a raven to find us?” Nuka asked.
“I don’t know,” Attu said.
Attu let their boat drift back, taking their place at the end of the line as hunters waved their paddles to signal all were ready, and they began traveling north again.
“I can’t believe some of the Ravens survived and are still seeking revenge on us.” Ubantu sat back against a large rock padded with furs, lounging comfortably there, Yural at his side. The night was chilly, and the Clan had gathered around a brisk fire.
“Maybe it saw something shiny in your boat and wanted it, but was frightened away when it saw people looking back at it,” one of the younger women said.
“So it dropped like a stone on them for something shiny?” one of the others scoffed.
“It wasn’t that kind of bird,” Tingiyok said, after giving the scoffer a silencing look. “Crows and ravens and those loud green-headed birds like shiny things. Not falcons. Falcons are hunters of small animals, and I’ve never seen one dive down toward water, only land, where it hits a mouse or rabbit and grabs it in its talons before flying away.”
“Like the eagle bird does with fish?” Rovek asked.
“Yes.”
“We’ve been gone from the Raven’s camp now for almost two moons,” Rusik said. Attu was surprised to see the anger flaring in the normally quiet man’s dark eyes as he leaned forward. “The Ravens never spoke of another group. They were all gathered that night when they tried to kill us. They came after us with every one of their large canoes, and you saw them all killed by the whale fish. There are no other Ravens to come for us. It is not even something to consider.” Rusik sat back again, his face flushed.
“I agree with Rusik,” Meavu said. Her voice was soft, and the Clan stilled to hear her more clearly. “Limoot knew everything there was to know about all of the Ravens. She kept her stirring stick in every cooking skin. If there had been others of the Raven Clan somewhere else, she would have spoken of them at least once in those moons I was held captive in her potions room.”
Meavu glanced around the fire, and Rovek put his arm around her as she rubbed her arms before folding them tightly over her chest. “I was never allowed out of that back room of potions, and none of the women wanted to guard me when they had so much other work to do around the camp. But Limoot and her assistants were usually gone, caring for the sick or injured, women having babies, or old ones going Between. She made others watch me, and none of them talked of another group of Ravens, either.” Her face tightened and she rocked slightly, her eyes now glued to the dancing flames in front of her.
“Meavu, you needn’t speak of your time with the Ravens if you don’t want–” Yural began.
“It’s good for her to speak of it, as it’s good for me,” Farnook interrupted Yural. “Pardon my boldness, Yural, but Meavu is right. There were no other Ravens. I would have known if there were. And the women and children left behind when their hunters sought revenge on us are very capable of taking care of themselves. The young boys can hunt and fish, and the women have always done most of the work in the Raven Clan. Many were stolen from their own Clans along the way north and watched their hunters murdered at the hands of the Ravens. They have no love of the Raven Clan. When their men don’t return, they will rejoice.”
Lips popped in shock as Attu’s people considered Farnook’s words. On the Expanse, women and children waited anxiously for their hunters’ return, praying to their name spirits and following the traditions to assist in their safe return. They put a bowl of food out each night for their men, to be ready for their homecoming. Each would reassure the others that this night might be the night their men would arrive safely, their arms filled with game.
But to wish them gone forever? Never to know what happened to them? Attu knew it made sense for the Raven women to feel that way, but it was still hard to believe.
“Those women were cruel to me,” Farnook said, “because they had no one else to take their grief and anger out on.”
“But some, like Kagit’s third wife Tuunti, were just plain evil,” Meavu said, and she shuddered at the thought of the vile woman who had taken great pleasure in beating Farnook with a large wooden spoon until her garments were in tatters and her back a web of old and new bruises and bleeding welts.
“Tuunti was evil even before she was captured,” Farnook said. “Another woman who was stolen from the same Clan during their attack told me Tuunti was hated in her own Clan for her sharp tongue and cruelty. No man would take her except one man from their neighboring Clan who was slow of wit and a poor hunter. Tuunti was ashamed to be with him.
“When Tuunti saw Kagit coming across the clearing where her people were camped, she stood, grabbing up a knife to defend herself. But when she realized there were hundreds of men surrounding them, there to steal women and kill the rest, and that Kagit was apparently the leader of them all, she took the large knife she was carrying and walked up behind her own hunter, who was holding his spear ready to attack Kagit. According to the woman who witnessed it, Tuunti met Ka
git’s eyes with a big smile. He smiled back at her, lust in his eyes. It was as if evil recognized evil, I think. Before anyone could stop her, Tuunti slit her own man’s throat from behind.”
“No!” Several of the people reacted with shouts and gasps.
“Yes. The women told me Kagit laughed at her boldness. He picked her up and carried her away, letting his men do the killing for him that night. She was his after that.”
“Tuunti boasted of it,” Farnook added. “She said, ‘I saw who held the most power, and I let him know from the moment we met that I was the woman who would help him gain even more. To a man like Kagit, that is more alluring than anything else a woman might give him.’”
“Yet he still knocked her out when she displeased him,” Ubantu said, breaking the spell Farnook’s lurid story had cast.
“It’s good she’s gone to wherever Ravens go when they are dead,” Rika said.
Lips popped again.
The discussion continued, but his people were mostly repeating themselves, and Attu found himself drifting, wondering. How will we know when we’ve traveled far enough north to reach a place where we can be comfortable at this time of the cycle of warm and cold we now called summer, yet still be where the ocean will freeze solid enough so our hunters will be safe to hunt on it in the cold time of the new winter?
I’ll have to speak with the others tomorrow at our rest stop, sun high, and discuss this. Now is not a good time, while everyone is still trying to make sense out of what happened today.
Attu saw Tingiyok had left the fire and rose also, catching up with the older hunter as he moved down the beach toward the water. Tingiyok paused as Attu approached. “Did you have something to teach me this evening?” Attu asked as he stood next to the Seer.
“Not tonight,” Tingiyok said. “I need to spend some time thinking about what happened today, praying to my spirit namesake to reveal anything else we might need to know about this visit from the falcon. It was so strange.” Tingiyok looked out over the ocean, and Attu could see his mind was already picking up where Attu had interrupted his thoughts. Tingiyok gave the slight sideways nod of the hunter leaving the group and walked down the beach, away from Attu and the evening fire.
