Broken Rock Bay (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 3)

by C. S. Bills

  “You heard us talking about Veshria?”

  “Yes. That woman is a fool for not letting Rika help her.” She pulled her eyes away from the fire and turned to Attu. “And before you ask me, again, the answer is no. Every time I tried to ask one of the men today, they looked at me as if I had spoken some great evil, turned away, and pointed to the bodies. I’m convinced they think it’s wrong to speak of it in front of the dead.” Farnook sat back, her eyes dark with pain. “I stopped asking after a while.”

  “You did the right thing,” Yural said, and several of the other women agreed. “After their dead are taken care of, ask again. Until then, we will be patient.”

  Attu groaned quietly. Rika slapped his leg. “You heard Yural. She’s right. You must be patient, my hunter. I know you want to know what happened, but I don’t think it’s an immediate threat to us not to know. If an enemy were still following them, they’d have warned Farnook of the danger once they were awake, wouldn’t they?”

  “I just need to keep our people safe,” Attu said. “These men are weak now, but soon they will be strong again. What then? I need to know more about who they are and what happened to them. And it’s frustrating not to know what’s happening with Suka and the others.”

  “They’ve been gone only two days,” Rika said. “Our ability to mind speak has caused us to be impatient. We used to simply trust in our name spirits and wait for those we care about to return.”

  “You’re right,” Attu said. “I must learn to trust the spirits of protection again, like I used to.”

  But Attu lay awake long into the night, fighting the urge to dream again, be the falcon again, even though Keanu had said it was dangerous. He needed to see for himself what was happening up the river in the great darkness beyond his ability to See without the falcon’s keen sight. But when Attu finally slept, he did not dream.

  Chapter 8

  At first light, Attu, Ubantu, and Rovek stood on the beach near the bodies with the other Nuvik hunters, along with Cray, Soantek, and the hunter the other Nukeena were calling Shool.

  “He said that now his name IS Shool.” Attu had asked Farnook to find out what the man’s real name was. “I guess his people sometimes rename a person when they have a life-changing event. He smiled and kept pointing to himself and calling himself Shool,” Farnook said. “The other Nukeena men are calling him that, and without teasing him, so I guess the name has stuck.”

  “Strange,” Attu said. “But thank you for finding out. I didn’t want to be offending him every time I said his name.”

  Ubantu motioned for the others to take up the tools he’d set out and follow him into the nearby trees.

  Attu felt a twinge of unease as Cray hefted a stone ax, one of the tools Ubantu had gotten from the Ravens. Cray was a large man, standing almost a head taller than Attu. His skin, still burned and peeling, looked like once healed, it would still be too pale. His hair was brown, his eyes light brown, and he was hairy all over, face, chest, arms, and legs. His peeling skin was sticking to the hair on his body in places, making him look odd, like the fragile white-bark tree, whose outer skin peeled constantly and which was the first to fall in winter storms. Cray was so thin he looked barely able to stand, but Attu could tell from the sturdiness of his bones and the way his flesh hung on his upper arms and legs that the man had once been muscular.

  “Nadowna, oh,” Cray said, touching the sharp edge of the ax and feeling the balance of the tool in his hand. “Bah doit, ai?” he asked and handed it to Shool.

  “Oh, nadowna cho.” Shool seemed to agree with Cray and after hefting the tool for a moment, handed it to Ubantu. “Cho ai, cho ai gu!” he exclaimed and grinned broadly. Then he turned and walked toward the Nukeena’s canoes.

  “What’s he doing?” Ubantu asked the others. Shool looked like he was struggling to remove the cover from one of the large boxes built into the bottom of his canoe that doubled as a seat for paddling.

  Cray struck the side of his hand against his other palm. “Cho,” he said. “Ai gu, cho.”

  “Cut? Chop?” Attu asked, realizing Cray was trying to explain. Attu made the chopping gesture with his own hands.

  “Ai, cho!” Cray grinned again. “Nadowna ‘chop’,” he said the word like ‘choop.’ “Cho...” Cray said, making his mouth round and looking at Attu and the others, apparently eager they get the pronunciation right.

  “Cho,” Attu said, and made a guess and added, “Ai.”

  “Ai!” Cray exclaimed. “Cho, ai!”

  “What’s he saying?” Ubantu asked.

  “Cho means ‘chop’ or cut, and I think ‘ai’ means, ‘yes,’” Attu said.

  “What is ‘nadowna?’” Ubantu asked Cray.

  “Nadowna,” Cray said and moved his hands as if to push something invisible away. “Nadowna.”

  “I think it means ‘no’ or not,” Attu said. “Farnook said she was ‘nadowna Nukeena’ when she was talking to Soantek.”

  “Ai,” Soantek said, stepping into the conversation. “Nukeena,” he said again, pointing first to himself, then to Cray. He pointed to Attu, Ubantu, and the others. “Nadowna Nukeena.”

  “Ai,” Ubantu said. “Nadowna Nukeena, ai. Nuvik, ai.” And he pointed to himself and the other Nuvik hunters.

  “Nuvik?” Soantek asked, pointing to them. “Nuvik, ai?”

  “Ai,” several of the Nuvik hunters said.

  Soantek moved to stand as upright as he could. He crossed his arms so each hand rested on a shoulder and bowed deeply at the waist.

  Attu and the other Nuviks watched as Cray folded his arms and bowed also. They held themselves bent over, even though both men’s knees were shaking.

  Attu thought about how vulnerable this position was. When bent, the Nukeena couldn’t see if anyone was approaching them, and their necks were exposed to any blow or cut an enemy might give. Their arms were trapped on their chests, so they wouldn’t be able to fend off a sudden attack, either. Obviously this bowing was some sort of greeting that included extreme trust.

  Attu hit his chest three times with his bare fist, having no spear handy. The other Nuvik men did the same. The Nukeena men had straightened at the sound of the Nuvik’s chest thumping. And as they did, slow smiles spread across all their faces, Nukeena and Nuvik.

  There is an equality here among us, Attu thought as he stood in the morning light with these strange men, about to help them bury their dead by fire and water. This was never true with the Ravens, who always sought to have the upper hand with us. I don’t know yet what happened to these men, but my spirit says we can trust them.

  Shool was returning, several large tools in his hands. He stumbled as he walked, and Cray and Soantek moved to meet him, each returning with a tool much like the stone ax, but with a very different blade on the end.

  Attu felt the hair on his neck rise at the sight of these strange tools.

  “What is that?” Rovek said.

  Shool handed him one of the axes. Rovek reached out a finger and touched the dark blade. He pulled his hand back as if burned. “It’s cold,” he said.

  Attu and the others moved closer. They took turns holding the tool, as well as the other two Shool had brought. Attu felt his spirit dancing inside him. The blade was sharp on these tools and they were hard as rock, but cooler at first to the touch. As he held the dark rock in his hands, it warmed as if it were alive.

  Attu held the tool up to the light, but he could see no lines in the blade, no color variations or evidence of chipping to sharpen its edge. He struck a nearby log with the Nukeena ax and was amazed as the dark rock bit into the log like he might bite into a piece of soft meat. A large wood chip fell as he wrestled the ax free.

  The Nukeena men were grinning at them now, like small boys sharing a secret. “Iron,” Shool said. “Iron, ai. Cho gu!”

  “Ai,” Attu said, his voice a whisper. Where did these men get such amazing stones? And how had they been able to sharpen them?

  We need some of these
wondrous iron stone tools!

  Apparently eager to show off their iron stone axes, the Nukeena men turned and walked into the trees, the Nuvik hunters following with their stone tools. They stopped at a stand of smaller trees, larger than saplings, but still small enough to chop down with an ax and drag.

  Attu turned to the backbreaking task of chopping down one of the small trees while watching to see what the Nukeena men did and how their axes worked compared to the Nuvik ones.

  “We will need at least five trees,” Ubantu said. “We’ve already gathered the few driftwood logs from the beach that are big enough to use, but we’ll need at least that many fresh trees, cut in lengths, with branches we can bend so we can weave them in and out of the others.”

  “Like the fish traps the Seers make, only larger?” Rovek asked.

  “Yes.” Ubantu turned to the first tree, laid his hand on it, and spoke a few quiet words before starting to chop.

  After speaking the words to the spirit of his own tree, Attu struck it, and the slow process of felling the tree began. Attu was careful of his brittle stone blade. After a few strokes, Attu saw Cray was already leaning against the tree he’d been cutting, his hands trembling. Attu walked to him and motioned for him to sit. Cray shook his head at first – apparently that also meant ‘no’ to the Nukeena – and he chopped at the tree again. His hand lost its grip and the iron stone ax fell, barely missing Cray’s foot.

  “Sit, ai?” This time Cray did not object, but sat on a nearby fallen tree, too rotten for them to use.

  They should have let us cut the trees for them, Attu thought. But even as he thought it, Attu realized that this was part of the Nukeena ritual of burial. The Nukeena hunters cut the trees for the burial boats, just as in the Expanse Clans the men gathered the rocks for the burial mounds. It was an important part of seeing their fellow hunters off safely into the Between.

  Cray motioned for Attu to retrieve his ax. Attu did, holding it out to the Nukeena.

  “Nadowna. Nuvik cho,” Cray said. “Attu, ai?” He pointed at Attu’s chest.

  “Ai,” Attu said. He grinned at Cray, then eagerly moved to the tree Cray had been trying to chop. He raised the ax, but stopped himself before the blade struck. Attu placed his hand on the tree and apologized to it, explaining that Cray was a stranger and didn’t know he should have told the tree why its life was being taken before starting to cut it down. Then Attu began chopping. After a few strikes, Attu realized he didn’t have to worry about this dark stone. It didn’t seem brittle at all. Attu decided to test the blade and struck the tree with all his strength. He imbedded the ax far into the wood and popped his lips in disbelief.

  Cray jumped at the noise Attu made. He laughed as Attu struggled with the ax, finally freeing it from the wood.

  With positioned blows, Attu soon felled the small tree and moved back to finish the one he’d started chopping with his own ax. Cray remained seated, his head now in his hands.

  Ubantu and Rovek were also using the iron stone axes, and Soantek and Shool were sitting down, their faces pale and sweat-covered as they watched. The other Nuvik hunters took turns with the iron stone axes too, and soon the freshly cut trees were pulled back to the beach.

  The Nuvik hunters reluctantly handed the iron stone axes back to the Nukeena men. Ubantu motioned for them to go back to the fire and rest.

  “Ai,” they said, although Attu could tell the Nukeena men were reluctant to leave the job to others.

  “Ohwoot, tantoona,” Cray said to the other two, and the three Nukeena hunters walked away, pausing near the bodies of their Clansmen. Each spoke to the bodies and pulled a small object from a fold inside his tattered clothing, like the one Shool had waved at them when they’d found him sitting against the rocks. The men moved the objects slowly over their dead hunters as they chanted. Attu’s men watched them.

  They shouldn’t be walking around in rags, Attu thought as the men continued to chant. He’d ask the women to make the men something to wear. He’d also ask Farnook about the talisman they carried, along with finding out about the iron stone. There is so much about these men we need to know.

  Attu wanted iron stone tools, and he knew he other Nuviks felt the same way. But even if we found some of this stone, how could we shape it into tools? It’s so hard! Would the Nukeena be willing to trade with us for one of those axes? Just one would make our work so much easier...

  And do they believe in spirits in some ways like we do? Are those objects they carry like our spirit necklaces? None of them spoke to the trees before chopping them. Do they believe only in the spirits of fire and water?

  Cray turned back to Attu and the other Nuvik hunters, his eyes filled with unshed tears, his face solemn. He crossed his arms and bowed again, turned, and walked slowly back to the other Nukeena hunters, still recovering on the furs near their fire. Shool bowed as well, to Ubantu and the others, but Soantek turned away without bowing, wiping his hand over his face, his shoulders hunched as he walked back up the beach.

  Attu’s hunters stood, silent, watching the Nukeena men slowly make their way back to their fire. The morning breeze from the ocean moved through the newly felled trees, whispering among the green leaves and branches. Attu thought about life and death, how one moment the spirit dwelled in a man, or a tree, and the next, they were gone Between. He thought about Meavu’s words and how true they were.

  All of Nuvikuan-na is one. Our tools and our beliefs may be different, but both Nukeena and Nuvik care for our people and grieve them when they have gone Between. He looked up as a bird called in the distance over the water, and clenched his jaw when his spirit tried again to rise out of him and join it. He yanked his gaze from the bird and struck one of the newly felled trees so hard with his stone ax, he chipped a piece of the blade off.

  Ubantu looked a question at him as Attu scowled at the ax.

  Attu met his father’s eyes. “It happened again.”

  His father held his spirit necklace briefly, and Attu knew Ubantu was praying to his name spirit for his son. Attu felt a rush of emotion for his father, this hunter who was so strong in both the ways of the Nuvik man and the ways of the spirits. Ubantu had promised Attu he’d tell Yural, and that they would both be praying for him.

  “When Keanu comes, she will know what to do,” his father had assured him.

  Will she?

  Tingiyok didn’t hesitate to go after Keanu. All I can do about what Veshria said is wait for Tingiyok and the others to return with Keanu so I can talk with them both. I need to find out what really happened between Veshria and Keanu, and if Keanu could be a danger to my Clan. I pray she is not, because I desperately need her help. I pray she knows what is wrong with me and how to fix it. But what if she doesn’t?

  Attu pulled himself out of his circling thoughts and began the task of cutting off or weaving branches from the newly felled trees around the trunks of already dead trees stacked neatly between them. The others joined him.

  “The boat will have to be large enough to carry the bodies safely into the center of the bay before being lit on fire,” Attu said, addressing them all as he worked.

  “It seems wrong to stack the dead,” one of the hunters said.

  Attu agreed.

  “So it will need to be at least six spear lengths long and three wide?” another asked.

  Ubantu nodded, and they continued the difficult task of weaving the logs together, adding one more on each side.

  “If we put outriggers on both sides, it’ll be much more stable,” Rovek said, standing back and looking at the mess of entwined logs they’d woven together. It was sun high, and their progress had been slow.

  “We must sacrifice some of our own rope,” another hunter added. “Weaving the limbs in alone is not working.”

  Attu knew no one wanted to use precious rope only to see it burn, but he agreed with the hunter, and two of the men left to get older rope that was still good enough to hold as long as they needed it to.

  “Ask
the women to give you some food and bring it back with you,” Attu said as the men left. “This is going to take the rest of the day.”

  One of the hunters groaned, and as the others laughed, the mood lightened. Attu knew his hunters were doing what he was, focusing on the task of completing the flat boat as quickly as possible, while trying not to think about what it would carry on its first and last journey into the bay. But the bodies lay nearby, and it was hard to ignore them.

  As evening fell, the dead Nukeena were laid out on top of dried pine branches on the log boat. Men and women worked to gather the branches, packing them around the bodies as the Nukeena had directed, and piling still more above, until the mound of fragrant pine overcame the stench of decay, and the boat looked like it might sink from the extra weight as it was pulled into the shallows.

  Attu and several hunters moved to prepare their boats to float the Nukeena corpses to the center of the bay, but Soantek stepped forward and stopped them.

  “Nadowna, Nuvik,” he said, before saying something to Farnook.

  “Nukeena must take the boat to the resting place of the hunters and light the fire. Soantek says it must be him. And there are two others who will accompany him. They’ll use one of their canoes.”

  “But they are too weak to paddle those huge canoes and drag that boat as well,” Rika protested.

  Farnook spoke again to Soantek. It took a few exchanges, and both she and Soantek seemed frustrated with their lack of understanding of each other. He said something and Farnook nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she turned back to the group.

  “Soantek is the Nukeena’s shaman. He must be the one to send the Nukeena hunters on their way properly. And one of the men was his brother. He must honor his brother, also.”

  Ubantu stepped forward, and much to Soantek’s surprise, wrapped his arms around Soantek in the embrace of the hunter acknowledging the grieving one, firmly striking Soantek’s back three times in honor of the lost brother. Soantek tried at first to pull away, but Farnook spoke to him and he stopped resisting Ubantu.