by Avery Kloss
“You should rest,” said Hanna. “I’ll be glad when I have this one.” She patted her belly. “It’s terribly uncomfortable.” Penua came to sit in her lap, although there wasn’t any room for him. She moved hair out of his eyes, laughing, “You’ll have to sit on the floor, child.”
He made a face, babbling, but then he said, “Mamma.” He spoke the white man’s language, Hanna intending on teaching him both when he was a little older. She did not wish to confuse him now.
Sungir glanced at me. “We hunt at daybreak.”
I made a face, loathing having to leave my comfortable pelt so early. “Must we?”
“Yes. You and Ara need to practice.”
“We’ve been practicing.”
“These skills must be maintained and honed. You’re hardly proficient.”
“I’ve made plenty of kills.” I hunted small creatures; the ones they called cave hyenas. They proved challenging, because they moved quickly at the first inkling of trouble. “I kill better than Ara.”
My sister shrugged. “Not for long.”
We competed against one another, which Sungir encouraged, because it made us work harder. The reward was often a place by his side at supper and the choicest cuts of meat.
“Can it be a little after daybreak?” I longed to sleep, having been up helping Kia give birth.
“A little after, but only because I know you’re tired. You and Ara did well last night.”
“Thank you,” said Kia, smiling blearily.
“I'm sleeping.” Hanna took Penua, bringing him with her to a pelt. “With any luck, I’ll have this baby soon too.”
Crawling beneath a fur, I waited for Ara to join me. She turned her back to me. “I’m tired,” she grumbled.
“Rest well.” Not realizing how weary I felt, I succumbed to sleep almost instantly.
“Have you ever thought of having a dog?” I asked, stepping gingerly over a log. “We had camp dogs. I love them.”
“If we find one.” Sungir walked ahead, his white hair soft around his shoulders. A leather skirt reached the lower portion of his thighs. Small tufts of whitish hair covered his bare torso. “I had one ages ago, but it died.”
“I miss my camp.”
“Which one?” Ara walked beside me, a spear in her hand.
“The one by the river.”
“I didn’t like that one as much. The people were … unkind.”
Sungir glanced my way. “Does this mean you hate staying here with me?”
“No,” I said, stepping over a branch. We stalked a herd of stags, the mother and babies eating grass in the meadow just beyond the trees. “Your hut’s the most comfortable.”
“You only miss the camp because of Ronan.”
“I’ve heard this name several times before,” said Sungir.
“Peta adored him.”
“I did.” Happy memories returned, bringing a smile to my face.
“He showered you both with gifts.”
“He was kind,” said Ara. “Far kinder than the others. I liked him as well. Enwan was good too. It’s sad they perished in the flood. I can’t say the same for the rest. I didn’t care for them.”
“Not all people are bad,” murmured Sungir, waving to us to be quiet. “There’s a candidate,” he whispered. “Straight ahead. Who’s going to try for it?”
I glanced at Ara. “You?”
“No. I’ll get the next one. You do it.”
A prickle of excitement drifted through me. “All right. I’ll do it.”
Sungir nodded in agreement.
I slowly ventured to the edge of the wood, hoping the animals had not perceived us. They grazed at a distance, their heads bent, eating the succulent part of grass nearest to the ground. One of the creatures lifted its head, listing intently. I stopped walking, holding as still as possible. When the threat passed, the animal continued to eat. I knew how close I needed to be to throw the spear, softly approaching on its other side. I hid behind a tree, then another, until I felt the distance an advantage. Grasping the spear the way Sungir had instructed us to, I lifted my arm and aimed, throwing the weapon a moment later. It arched through the air, before embedding in the animal’s neck. The herd bounded into action, fleeing, while the injured stag struggled, running at first, but then slowing.
“That was quite good,” murmured Sungir.
“It’s about to fall,” said Ara.
I carried other tools as well in a leather pouch wrapped around my shoulders. “Shall we approach?” I smiled, feeling satisfied with the hunt, although finding the herd had taken a great deal of time.
“Go on.” Sungir nodded. “I’ll supervise, if need be, but you know what to do, Peta.”
The animal lay in the grass, its chest rising and falling with each breath, its black eyes wide with fear. I removed a sharp tool from the bag, approaching. “Thank you for the sacrifice, kind animal. I’m sorry to have to kill you. Your death will provide food for many people. Your blood sustains us.” I sliced the throat quickly to end its suffering, the stag dying at once. As Sungir and Ara approached, I cut the underbelly, taking out the organs, leaving them in a bloody pile at my feet.
“We’ve enough to carry back,” said Ara. “I don’t need to kill another. That would be wasteful.”
“You may have the honors tomorrow.” Sungir eyed the meadow, the tall blades of grass blowing in the breeze, bringing a sweet, spicy fragrance. “It’s very quiet.” Those words sent a chill through me, Ara’s eyes widening in alarm. “Get down!”
We dropped to our knees, hidden instantly in the grassy field, the wind bringing a new sort of smell, the odor of unwashed bodies. I had yet to pull the spear free of the stag, the rod-like device thrusting out of its neck. We huddled together listening, hearing the faint sounds of men talking.
“Are they coming here?” I whispered.
“I don’t know.” Sungir held a spear in one hand and an ax in another, his head low, but he remained vigilant. “With any luck, they’re just passing through.”
We waited for what felt like a great deal of time to pass, buzzing insects annoying me. “I don’t hear anything,” I whispered.
“We should wait a while longer.” Sungir lifted his head, glancing about. “I don’t see them, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
“Did you make out the language?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I thought you had the means to protect yourself?” He had spoken of a secret weapon, if I had not been mistaken.
“I do, but … I’d rather avoid a confrontation. It’s not just me I have to worry about. I’ve you and Ara to defend.”
Ara shooed the insects away, the ones buzzing over the entrails of the animal. “I think we can go now. I don’t hear anything.”
Sungir stood cautiously, scouring the meadow carefully, gazing from side to side. “All right. It’s clear. Let’s tie this fellow to a spear and carry it home. You’ve both done well.”
Ara and I affixed the legs, tying them together with braided leather. Then we slid the rod through, the animal hanging suspended. Sungir held the upper portion, while Ara and I took the back, the animal not as heavy this way. We strode through the field, several birds making noises in the trees. Whoever had come through hadn’t seen us, and we would never know if they were friend or foe. Sungir certainly did not wish to risk it, by letting curiosity get the better of him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Once Hanna had her baby, a healthy boy she named Allo, the hut was filled with the sounds of a baby crying more often than not. Ara and I helped to care for the infants during the afternoons, while hunting in the mornings. I adored Maggi and Allo, but I found hunting peaceful, the quiet solitude of the forest a relief from the never ending crying.
“Have you caught anything yet?” asked Ara. She held a stick with a thin twine, the hook beneath the water.
“Not yet.”
Sungir stood in the middle of the brook with a spear, holding it to
strike. When he did, he brought forth a large, wiggling fish. “We shall eat well tonight.” He tossed it to shore, where it flopped back and forth. “Can you watch that?”
I grasped it, to prevent it from returning to the river, which it tried aggressively to do. We had already caught three of them. “How many more do we need?”
“As many as the gods provide.” He held the spear high again, the sun making his hair look like a white, fluffy patch of fur. “I can smoke them. Nothing will go to waste.”
Spearing herd animals fulfilled my need for adventure, while fishing lent itself to relaxation, the sound of trickling water soothing. I sat on the rocks watching, feeling the warmth of the sun upon my shoulders. Sungir speared another.
“That’ll do.” He strode through the water, methodically lifting one foot and then the other, carefully reaching the bank. “We’ll gut them and go home.”
“But I haven’t caught anything yet.” Ara frowned. “None of them want my bait.”
“You’ll have better luck next time.”
I sliced the fish open, leaving the entrails in a pile. Sungir cleaned them in the brook, placing them inside a leather pouch. “Maybe I can find nuts and berries.”
“If you see them along the way. I’m tired, girl. I wish to rest before supper.”
“All right.” Sungir’s garden held an abundance of edibles, some odd tasting things I had never eaten before. The trees around the hut produced delicious edibles as well. He had planted them specifically for this reason.
Preparing for the long walk, I fell into step with Ara, but I soon passed her. I could feel her frown at my back. “If you grow any taller, you’ll be able to look Sungir in the eye.”
“I doubt I’ll grow that high.”
Sungir strode ahead, a spear in his hand. He observed the forest, filled with the sounds of birds calling to one another. We came this way often to fish, a faintly worn path beneath our feet. I recognized certain trees, one with the thickest trunk I had ever seen. Its branches hung overhead, their width impressive. Longing to climb it, I would have to wait for another time, Sungir in a hurry to return to the shelter. The shadows bespoke the passage of time, our fishing having frittered away the day, but the meal promised to be delectable.
Soon we smelt our hearth, the hut still at a distance. Sungir halted abruptly, and I knew something was amiss. “Wait here.”
Ara and I scrambled into the bushes. I knelt beside her, eyeing Sungir, who walked away. “What do you think it is?”
“He always knows when something’s not right. I wonder how he does it?”
“He’s lived here for many, many seasons,” I whispered. “He’s attuned with every tree. His hearing must be better than ours.”
“What do you see?”
“Nothing now.” I sat on the leaves, crossing my legs before me. Pieces of branches clung to my hair. Having nothing better to do, I pulled them free, one at a time.
A shadow fell upon us, the movement too quick to be an act of nature. A prickle of fear raced down my back, as I lifted my gaze, seeing a man. He looked like one of Kia’s people. The breeze rustled the branches overhead, the smell from him nearly overwhelming. A second man joined him. Ara saw them too, her eyes darting back and forth, her mouth open. They had not perceived us, continuing to walk—straight towards the hut.
The path clear, Ara and I ventured from the bushes. “If they mean us ill, we’ll have to kill them.”
She gaped at me. “You … you would do that?”
“I’ll do whatever necessary to protect my kin. Yes.”
Lifting her chin, her eyes flickered with determination. “I’m scared, but I’ll help you.”
“Let’s go as quietly as we can.”
“You first.”
“Fine.” We left the path, venturing through the leaves and brambles, inching closer to the structure. I heard voices then, a discussion occurring. Coming up behind one of the smaller outbuildings, we stopped to listen.
“You may eat with us, if you wish, Gengus,” said Sungir. He spoke to the men in the white man’s language, which struck me as odd. “Come in.”
Hearing those words, my shoulders dropped, the tension in them leaving. I had clenched my jaw as well, my face aching. The prospect of having to kill a man had set me on edge, my hands perspiring around the wood I held. As a result, I could barely grip the spear properly.
“It’s fine,” murmured Ara. “They’re friends.”
“Peta? Ara? You may come now,” called Sungir.
We hurried around the hut to the doorway, the strangers having gone inside. As we entered, the odor of the men made breathing difficult. Sungir stood before them, smiling.
“You’ve been traveling for a while.”
They turned to look at Ara and me, their expressions startled. They weren’t expecting a white girl.
Sungir pointed to us. “This is Ara and Peta. You’ve already met Hanna and Kia.”
A baby cried, the infant in Kia’s arms. She sat on the pelt by the fire. “Do sit, girls. We have guests. Sungir knows them. They trade with him.”
I hurried to her, sitting close. “We found fish.”
“I know.” She smiled tenderly.
Ara came over as well, sitting by me. We eyed the strangers, as did Hanna, but she stood nearer to them. Penua played with wooden figurines, unconcerned by the situation, while Allo slept.
“I’ll make supper,” she offered.
Sungir said, “This is Gengus and Honchu. They come through every so often on their way to fresh hunting grounds.”
I glanced at Ara, not knowing what to say about that. The men eyed us peculiarly.
“The women are my guests. They came to me before the cold season. They’ve been here ever since.” He indicated a pelt by the fire. “Do sit. Make yourselves comfortable.”
Hanna puttered around, preparing to grill the fish, although she glanced at the men often. “Do you speak my language?”
I understood most of what she said, remembering it.
Gengus nodded. “Yes, of course.”
She smiled. “It’s good to hear it again. I miss it. I’ll teach it to my children when they’re a little older.”
The man named Honchu eyed me. “Where did she come from?”
“I don’t know,” said Kia. “I found her. I found this one too.” She touched Ara. “They’re my daughters. I’ve another daughter as well.” She indicated the baby. “We were with a white tribe for many seasons, until a flood came. I don’t know where they are now. Few survived.”
“Then we were with a smaller clan,” said Hanna. “White heathens came and slaughtered the men. Now we’re here.”
She placed the fish on a flattened rock in the fire, having sliced them in half. A delicious aroma wafted into the air, making my belly grumble with hunger. The men listened politely, their eyes following Hanna whenever she moved. I could not help feeling as if she passed them on purpose, retrieving a basket at first, then a sharp ivory knife. She turned the fish over, searing the other side, while smiling sweetly. Kia noted this as well. Then it dawned on me.
She wants to mate with them.
Sungir knew it too, his lips pressed in a thin line. He had been with Hanna since our arrival, the two sharing a pelt. We ate the fish moments later, the meat falling apart in my mouth. A basket went around with the edibles from the garden, each person picking what they wished. If we did not have two extra mouths to feed, we could have smoked the fish for another time, but nothing remained of the meal, the men belching loudly, appreciation glimmering in their eyes. The way they looked at Hanna made me feel odd, knowing exactly what had occurred in the cave so long ago.
Sungir got to his feet, clearing his throat. “I’d like to offer you a place to stay for the night.” Did he even have a choice in the matter? “I need to wash up.” Gengus got to his feet, as did Honchu. They followed him to the door, moving aside the wooden barrier to exit. I heard voices now, the men in discussion.
Kia glan
ced at Hanna. “I see what you’re about.”
“I … ” a guilty glimmer shone in her eyes. “Miss my own kind. I prefer them.”
“And what about Sungir?”
“He’s an old man. He’s a white man. I want … a viral, young man. I prefer mating them to anything else.”
“Poor Sungir,” I murmured.
“You’re just a child,” she hissed. “What do you know?”
“I’ve seen plenty,” I muttered, remembering the evenings in the cave. “Is there somewhere else to sleep?” I could not imagine trying to rest with the sounds of mating all night long, that, and babies crying. As soon as one stopped, the other started.
Kia did not appear surprised by these developments in the least. “We might be able to make a bed in the shack. We can clear a space and sleep there, but only for one night.”
“Thank you, Mamma,” said Ara. She too did not wish to be trapped in the hut with three rutting adults and two screaming babies.
“That would be kind of you.” Hanna smiled brightly. “But, could you take Penua, please? I can manage Allo.”
“I suppose,” muttered Kia. She nudged me. “Why don’t we see about the new sleeping arrangement?” She got to her feet, holding Maggi, who had finally settled down.
“I want to go too,” said Ara. We ventured to the door together.
Once outside, I glanced around, not seeing the men. “Where are they?”
“Washing up at the creek,” said Kia, her eyes hard with anger. “I’m only sleeping here one night. One night.”
I giggled, “Don’t you wish to mate them too?”
“No,” she said firmly, stalking towards the crudely built shack. The interior smelled dank from rain having seeped in over the seasons. “The gods are punishing me.”
Sungir built all manner of tools, a wooden stick with large tongs resting against the wall, along with old spears and axes in varying shapes. “I’ll sweep the floor clean.” Light streamed in through the gaps in the wood. “It’s not too terrible. It’s an improvement on sleeping out in the open.”
