I met Zigor’s eyes. They were blue and hard. ‘We gave these men food,’ I told him awkwardly. ‘We’ve eaten with them, as if they were our brothers.’ I plucked up my courage. ‘Does a man hunt his brothers?’
‘Every day,’ replied Zigor. ‘Are the Animals not our brothers?’ I puzzled over that. Then I said, trembling a little – for Zigor was Go-Between, and very powerful – ‘But the Animals give themselves. They choose!’
‘And have these Lynx men not chosen, with every step they take?’
My words seemed to be dragged out of me. ‘No.’ It was terrible to find myself arguing with a Go-Between! What might he do to me? I cleared my throat. ‘No! You can’t tell the Animals lies, even if you try. But if People are told lies, they can’t choose. Because . . . because they don’t know what’s happening. You can only choose about things you know. Telling People lies makes them weak.’
‘Thank you, Itzal.’
I looked at him sideways to see if he was mocking me. A small wind nipped at my cloak. It blew Zigor’s straggling hair across his face so I couldn’t read his eyes.
Zigor said, ‘Now you must go back, Itzal. Say nothing and do nothing. Keep out of things as much as you can. Tell Hodei that help will come very soon.’
‘Shall I tell him you’ll come?’
‘I’ve told you what to tell him.’ Zigor stood up stiffly. ‘Now then, my women here are useless, as you see, and there may be nothing for us, but no doubt we can find you some scraps the dogs have left - if we can, we’ll eat, and then you must set off while the day’s still young.’
I was furious when half a Moon later Nekané turned up at Loch Island Camp instead of Zigor. My sister Osané had been stolen by Nekané’s family. She was our enemy. Why had Zigor sent her instead of coming himself? Now Loch Island Camp was full of our enemies on every side. We had to eat with them as if they were our family. Wherever I turned, I felt as if I were living inside a lie. Two days after we brought Nekané, all the men came back to Camp. They brought no meat. That night the women got other food ready without anyone saying anything.
I was still breaking crab legs to get at their meat when everyone began to mutter. Koldo nudged me. ‘The Go-Betweens have gone!’ I shrugged – I wasn’t going to show I was scared – and went on eating.
The sound was like rain. It couldn’t be – the sky was deep dark blue, turning to night. There wasn’t a Moon. The sound was a River, but there’s no River at Loch Island Camp. One by one the stars came out. The sound was the Go-Betweens’ Drums. They didn’t frighten me – that’s true – the Drums sounded kind to start with. My anger faded. I forgot what I had to fear. I lay back, snapping the spindly crab legs and sucking out the meat. I watched the stars turn around the one Still Star in the Sunless Sky. Where the Sun had set I could see the Wolf, the Red Deer, the Lynx and the Fox. The night was so clear that even the Cat showed herself, and dimly between the Lynx and the Fox I saw the Eagle Star, which only happens in the emptiest nights of all. The River of Milk, that was made when the Milk of the First Mother spurted across the sky in the Beginning, arched so brightly I could see the whole way plain.
The fire had gone out. We sat in the dark. People were dim outlines like the trees and rocks. Even the children were still. A fox barked on the mainland shore; my dog growled in its sleep. I heard the rustling of Animals on the move. On the ground, and in the air – at first I thought there were a lot of bats about, but bats don’t lift your hair or brush against your skin. I felt a cold breath on the back of my neck, but when I swung round there was nothing there.
The Fox barked on the island. Now I recognised her: Hodei had been Go-Between at our hearth since before I was born. The Fox came nearer. She barked between the People and the dead hearth. I heard the harsh cry of a Swan. I didn’t know that Swan. An empty shape swept over us. The spirits shifted in the trees, under the stones of the hearth, in and out of the cloaks of the huddled People. White waves curled against the hearth stones and gently broke. I saw the curve of a Dolphin’s back. I’d never seen that before. A small patch of darkness tumbled against the stars. I knew what it was: I’d heard her song at our hearth from my earliest days. I strained my ears to hear it now: pee-wit pee-wit pee-wit.
Softly the echo came: pee-wit pee-wit pee-wit . . . Out of it our song grew, as it often had before. My voice was inside the chant. My heart followed. The spirits sang. The dead hearth leaped into flame. Firelight shone on our faces. The Go-Betweens drifted back to their places by the hearth. Nothing moved between our upturned faces and the stars.
The Go-Betweens struck like lightning. They seized someone from the huddled People and dragged him into the firelight.
‘Speak, you!’
Hodei’s spear was at the hollow of the man’s neck. He stumbled as they pulled him forward. A flame caught at a log and flared. Light fell on the face of Kemen’s cousin.
‘Speak, you! Whatever it is, you must speak now!’
Our voices joined the chant, surrounding him. ‘Speak, you! Speak! Whatever you have to say, you must speak it now!’
He looked over the Go-Betweens’ heads, staring with wild eyes into empty space. I don’t know what he saw – there was nothing there as far as my eyes could tell – but I felt cold terror coming from inside the emptiness. So could everyone else. The People shrank back, though I don’t think any of them knew what that Lynx man was staring at, any more than I did.
He stammered in terror. ‘The Dolphin . . . it wasn’t me! It wasn’t us!’
‘Then who?’ The Go-Between’s spear was at his throat. A thread of blood trickled down his neck. ‘Speak, you! Whatever it is, you must speak now!’
‘Me and Basajaun! No! Don’t kill me! No! No! No! It wasn’t us . . . it wasn’t us . . . we didn’t kill the Dolphin!’He was babbling now, shrinking away from the blades. We were all round him. He had nowhere to hide. ‘The Dolphin . . . when we . . . when we came . . . We didn’t take the Dolphin! When we . . . The spirits knew . . . No! No! No!’
The song was lost inside his screams of terror. A shadow leaped to its feet beside him. It was Basajaun. ‘What he says . . . It happened far from here!’ cried Basajaun. ‘The Dolphin . . . it wasn’t where the Auk People hunt. It was far from here!’
The flames in the hearth cowered low and blue.
‘The spirits don’t know “far” or “near”.’ The spear was at Basajaun’s throat now, forcing him back. ‘Speak, you!’ Men pulled Basajaun away. The other man was on his knees, sobbing with terror. ‘Speak, you! Whatever must be said, say it now!’
His whisper came like dry leaves in the wind. We all leaned forward to hear. ‘We took where we did not kill. The spirits of the stranger refused to hear us.’ He whimpered, and grovelled on the ground.
‘Speak, you!’
Basajaun lurched forward from the shadows. Men forced him back. The Go-Between prodded the other man with his foot where he lay in the firelight. ‘Speak, you! Say what must be spoken!’
‘We ran away.’ Everyone strained to hear the hoarse whispering. ‘We took what we needed, and then . . . we didn’t . . . we ran away.’
‘For the spirits there is no “away”.’
The man lay still. Slowly he crawled to his knees. His voice came back to him. He said quite clearly, ‘The Heron People knew nothing of this. But the spirits . . . In the end they made us go away. Kemen had gone. He went away long before. My brother wasn’t there either . . . He took a woman among the Heron People . . . they marked him as their own . . . He was nothing to do with this. Basajaun and I were alone. We came here. We followed Kemen. We came to the Auk People, who are our far-off kin.’
‘You did wrong! You brought angry spirits among us. You took where you did not kill, and the spirits refused to hear you. You ran away. You did wrong, and you brought that wrong with you to the Auk People. Is that so?’
The man cried out in terror, ‘We did no wrong to anyone here!’
The fire went out.
Hodei spoke to us all. ‘You all
heard what this Lynx man said! They took where they did not kill! The spirits refused to hear them! Is this the wrong that’s been done, do you think? Is this why the Animals refuse to speak to us about the Hunt?’
Basajaun faced Hodei. He seemed quite at his ease, not scared at all. ‘Aren’t you making too much of too little?’
Everyone gasped. Hodei was my uncle, but I’d never have dared to speak to him like that when he was Go-Between!
Hodei’s voice showed no emotion. ‘How so?’
‘How were we to know what the Animals here wanted us to do?’ said Basajaun. He sounded quite friendly and sensible. ‘In the lands where we Lynx men used to hunt, the Animals didn’t ask us to do anything different if they gave themselves without a hunt. We found a dolphin – this was under the High Sun Sky where the Heron People hunt. We took its meat back to the Heron Camp where they’d given us food. We thought they’d be pleased. They were angry because we didn’t know we should have given that Dolphin fire as well as thanks. We didn’t know that’s what the People under the Evening Sun Sky must do if there’s been no hunt. The Heron People thought the spirits would be angry, and that’s why my cousin is so frightened. But the spirits have forgiven us! We know that for certain, because the Animals give themselves to us! That bear by Edur’s Camp under Grandmother Mountain gave herself to us! So you see it can’t be us. We’re not what’s making your spirits angry. It’s very easy to blame the strangers among you. But is it right? Are you quite sure it’s right?’
‘The spirits know everything. That’s why they can’t let us do what we find easy.’
‘Then they must be telling you it’s not us! Your spirits surely say you can’t blame us!’
‘What you say is true.’
For a heartbeat Basajaun stared at Hodei. He’d been ready to fight, and suddenly his enemy had vanished like the morning mist when the Sun rises. Then Basajaun smiled, and held up his hands towards the spirits: ‘The spirits hear me! If my cousin and I failed to give thanks in the way the Auk spirits require, we’re very sorry. We’ll do whatever the Auk Go-Betweens tell us. We want nothing more than to make things right with your spirits. That I promise!’
‘The spirits are pleased to hear what you say.’ Hodei was watching Basajaun closely. ‘When we get to Gathering Camp they’ll hold you to your promise.’
Hodei sounded quite satisfied. I didn’t like it at all. I was sure there was more to this than Basajaun made out. I’d always thought Hodei was much cleverer than me. I still thought so. But . . . that other Lynx man had been terrified. He was still terrified: he’d got up off the ground now, but as far as I could see – he’d retreated into the shadows again – he acted like a man who feared for his life, even without being questioned by a Go-Between. If they’d simply made a mistake, why hadn’t they gone to a Go-Between and asked him to explain to the spirits? Why didn’t they make gifts to the Animals to say how sorry they were? Some wrongs are easily put right. But Hodei seemed to think Basajaun was talking sense. I expected a Go-Between to be much cleverer than me. Perhaps there was something I’d missed.
Hodei turned to the People again. ‘The spirits heard what these Lynx men said tonight. You People heard everything too. You heard us speak about the Dolphin. That Dolphin knows what happened. That Dolphin is waiting for things to be put right! There’s another Lynx man in the lands where the Auk People hunt. We haven’t reached the end of this story yet. One strand is here, at Loch Island Camp. Another strand lies with Basajaun’s brother Kemen, who took Osané. There may be other strands. All these strands must be plaited together. Now Salmon Moon has gone into the dark. When Gathering Moon is halfway to full, all these strands will be brought together. At Gathering Camp the spirits will make things right at last.’
After Hodei had spoken, the Go-Betweens hid their drums and the spirits went away. A woman fetched fire from one of the tents. She rekindled the fire in the outside hearth. People stood up and stretched. Children cried and were carried to bed. The women laid turfs on the fire. I went off into the trees to piss. Someone whispered to me as I passed.
‘Itzal! Come over here! Edur wants to speak to us!’
We stood in the shadow of the birches. Edur said, ‘We have to watch these Lynx men. We have to have eyes like kestrels and see everything they do. I think these men know something about running away! We’re not going to let them run away now. There’s half a Moon until Gathering Camp. We’re not going to let them get away from us!’
Koldo said, ‘We’ve thought of that. Oroitz and Zeru are already down at the boats. They’ll keep watch.’
‘I’ll be in the tent with the Lynx men,’ said Edur. ‘They won’t get past me! If they do, I’ll put on a woman’s skirt tomorrow, and start collecting shellfish!’
‘They can’t get away without a boat,’ I said. ‘Basajaun might be able to swim to the mainland. I doubt if that other one could. But if we hunt on the mainland we’ll have to stick to them like limpets.’
‘And if we fish with them we make sure there’s another boat close by.’
‘I’ll sleep by the boats as well,’ I said.
‘If you like.’ It was clear Koldo didn’t think it made any difference where I was.
Edur was kinder, but then he wasn’t my elder brother. ‘You keep your eyes open, Itzal. You’re usually the quickest to catch a scent, and you can run the fastest. But we won’t let it get to that.’
As I went softly down to the shore, a fox barked on the mainland shore. A little owl hooted softly, flying low over my head. I found Oroitz and Zeru in the shelter of a half-turned boat. I crawled in beside them. They agreed I should take the third watch. I wrapped my cloak around me, and wriggled down among the pebbles until I’d made a sleeping place. It was like being at Hunting Camp. But this wasn’t exactly a hunt, unless . . . I started thinking about the message Hodei had given me to take to Zigor, but my thoughts were drifting away like falling leaves, and I couldn’t hold on to them any more.
SIXTH NIGHT: GATHERING CAMP
Haizea said:
Little Bakar was shy when he saw all the People at Gathering Camp. Esti was used to it: her parents brought her here every Year. Esti grabbed Bakar by the hand and led him off to play with the cousins. Bakar dragged his feet, but we all know it’s hard to stand against Esti. When I went upriver to fill the waterskins I passed a group of shrieking children and barking puppies playing tig among the oaks. Esti was tig. She didn’t see me. She tore past me up the bank, flushing out a huddle of little boys. Bakar came hurtling down with the rest, squealing as loudly as any of them.
That freed me from looking after the children. Alaia now had Alazne at her breast, and always had lots of things she needed to do. Osané never seemed to be busy, but she was pregnant. Her baby would come before Deer Moon went into the dark. Also, Osané had plenty to worry about now we were at Gathering Camp. She and Kemen had kept away for four Years, and Osané hadn’t seen any of her mother’s family in all that while. She hadn’t thought of going to Gathering Camp until a hand-full of days ago, when Nekané had arrived at Berry Camp.
Nekané had said that Basajaun was among the Auk People. She told us what had happened at Loch Island Camp – or rather, she only told us some of it. Go-Betweens always know more than they say. She said to Kemen that this Year he must come with the rest of the family to Gathering Camp and find his brother.
Kemen looked very happy when he first heard that Basajaun had come. I suspect he only realised later that this might make things even more difficult than they were already. My sister and Amets were more anxious than Kemen was. I found them talking about it when I went for wood. They stopped speaking when they saw me come round the woodpile with the empty basket. Then Alaia said, ‘There’s no reason why Haizea shouldn’t hear what we’re saying, Amets. She’s a woman now. She’ll hear more than we do when we get to Gathering Camp. She’s young – she’s free to go where she pleases. No one has any quarrel with Haizea. I think I should tell my sister what you just said
.’
Amets hesitated. Then he said to Alaia, ‘Very well. Speak to your sister.’
‘Haizea,’ Alaia turned to me, ‘we’re worried about what’s going to happen at Gathering Camp. You heard our mother say how Edur took Kemen’s brother and cousin to Arantxa’s family at Loch Island Camp. I can see why Edur didn’t bring them here – I’m sorry to say he’s quarrelled with both Amets and Kemen. Amets has tried to make it up; Edur still thinks my man wronged him. But Edur could easily have kept the Lynx cousins with his own family until Gathering Moon. Nekané obviously knows why Edur took Basajaun to Osané’s family at Loch Island Camp. She must know – she went Go-Between with Hodei while she was there. What journey did Nekané and Hodei make when that happened? There’s a lot our mother isn’t telling us, Haizea!’
I stood and thought. Then I asked Alaia something that had troubled me for a while. ‘Why is Edur still so angry with Amets, Alaia?’
Alaia glanced at Amets. I saw her reading his face – I could see nothing in it – and then she answered me. ‘Do you remember that when Amets brought Kemen into our family it was Amets’ Year to take the boys to Initiation Camp?’
‘Yes, I remember that.’ I still had nightmares about my cousin Ortzi being snatched from my side.
‘It was Kemen’s first Hunt with the Auk People. He went with Edur. Afterwards Edur took Amets aside and told him what a good hunter Kemen was. Edur liked Kemen. He encouraged Amets to invite Kemen into his own family. Amets wanted to bring Kemen to our family himself, so Edur at once offered to stay at Initiation Camp in Amets’ place.
‘When Edur came back with the boys, Kemen had taken Osané, and they’d both come into our family. Edur thinks Amets had it all planned. He thinks Amets deceived him while he did Amets a good turn. Amets has tried to explain what happened, but Edur won’t listen. He won’t even speak to him.’ Alaia glanced at Amets and added, ‘It makes things very hard for Amets at the Hunt. It means—’
The Gathering Night Page 25
