Clan of the Wolf

by Avery Kloss

Ara’s hands went to her hips. “It’s not nearly as nice as the hut.” She shook her head, eyeing Kia. “Why don’t you wish to mate with them?”

  “I’m done with that. I’ve had the one man I’ve ever wanted; now he’s gone. I don’t desire anyone else to touch me. I don’t wish to have another baby. I want to love the ones I have.” She eyed Maggi. “My heart is full now.”

  “I suppose this means Hanna’s heart is not full,” I said dryly, finding her behavior odd, but, then again, I never did understand grownups.

  “She’s going to leave us.”

  “Why would you say that?” asked Ara.

  “I just know. She wants to be with her people.”

  “Do you want to go?” That worried me. I had not thought about what might happen if Kia decided to find her people. What did that mean for my future? And damn Sungir for making me think of things like this.

  “Like I said, my heart is full. I’ve everything I’ve ever wanted. I had love for a short time. I’ll cherish those memories. I don’t wish to wander about anymore. I’d like to settle. I’m comfortable here. I can raise my children in peace, for the most part.”

  Ara swept the floor free of rotten leaves. “What will I do for a mate then?”

  “You’re too young to worry about it now. When the time comes, you may leave with a man, if you like.”

  She pursed her lips. “Then I’d never see you or Peta again.”

  “That is something to think about for the future. You’ve many seasons yet before you’re ready for a man.” She eyed me. “You too.”

  I gave her a look, which made her giggle. “The idea of mating is disgusting. I’d rather be out in the elements all night than listening to Hanna and those men.”

  “Indeed,” Kia laughed, but then her smile fell. “Poor Sungir. He’ll be heartbroken. I know he was fond of Hanna. He knows, though. He knows what she’s about.” She glanced at the dirt floor. “This is a filthy place.”

  I nodded. “We’ll be in close quarters.”

  “Do you think Sungir will join us?”

  “More than likely.”

  Ara swept the muck out, peeking into the shack. “Are you going to help me clean or not?”

  “Yes,” I giggled.

  “The men are coming back.”

  Kia ventured to the doorway to have a look. “Let’s hope they smell better. They were rather pungent.”

  “Indeed,” I giggled.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Hanna left two days later, taking Penua and Allo with her, Gengus and Honchu agreeing to escort her to a clan on the other side of the valley. We bade her goodbye before sunrise, Sungir standing awkwardly by Ara, his expression bland, but I knew her leaving hurt him. After two nights in the small shack, it was a relief to sleep in comfort again.

  Kia watched, as Hanna disappeared into the woods, the sounds of Allo’s crying ringing out. “And now it’s just us,” she murmured.

  I glanced at Sungir, the man eyeing the distance. “I’m sorry. I know you’ll miss her.”

  “I’m perfectly happy alone,” he snapped, irritation pinching his features. “We hunt soon. Prepare yourselves.” He disappeared into the hut.

  “I’m going to bring the bedding in from the shack,” said Kia. “We’ll have more room now.”

  “There’ll be less crying too.” Ara grinned. “It was always so noisy. One baby will be easy to manage.”

  Sungir stood in the doorway, holding an odd-looking weapon. “Today I’ll show you this. You’ve mastered spear throwing. You’re now ready to learn new skills.”

  “What is that?” asked Ara.

  The object in his hand had been shaped like a half moon, made from wood with some sort of twine running from one side to the other. Several perfectly matched sticks jutted out from a pouch on his back.

  “It’s a weapon that kills at a distance. A man traveling through from other parts had one like it many seasons ago. He taught me how to use it. We won’t have to go far to practice.”

  I nodded, curious about the weapon. “I’m ready.”

  “Good.”

  Sungir used leather, stretched on each end and tied to twigs, hanging from a tree. This sort of device helped us with spear throwing, trying to hit the leather at a distance. When the wind blew, the target moved, making it more difficult. He affixed it differently today, driving two stakes into the ground to hold it firmly in place.

  I sat with Ara waiting for him, his back turned towards us, the sun having darkened his skin over the seasons. He wore his long, white hair in a braid, a leather skirt around his waist.

  “This looks sturdy enough.”

  Picking at a toenail, I stared aimlessly, pondering Hanna’s departure. “Do you think we’ll ever see her again?”

  “No.”

  “Why didn’t you and Kia go with her?” That question continued to perplex me.

  Sungir overheard that, approaching. “Yes, why didn’t you leave?”

  “Kia’s happy. She has everything she’s ever wanted. I won’t go without my mother and sister.”

  “You might change your mind about that in a few seasons, when you feel the urge to mate. You’ll want your own children.”

  “I’ve no desire for them. I doubt I will.” She lifted her chin slightly.

  He chuckled, “Just wait and see.” Kneeling, he grimaced, his leg bothering him. “You’ve proven yourselves worthy now.”

  “How?” I asked, finding that hard to believe.

  “You’ve chosen to stay with me, even though you could’ve gone with the men. I consider you my daughters, daughters I’ve never had. You’re not as strong as men, but you can make up the lack of strength with improved skill.” He picked up the odd-looking weapon. “This is something anyone can do, but you have to practice. I’m going to show you how to use it. It’s saved my life on countless occasions.”

  “Is this your secret, Sungir?”

  “Yes, Peta, one of them. I can hide and shoot and kill my victim without him even knowing what happened.” He withdrew one of the small rods in the leather pouch, a tiny spear tip on the end. “This hurtles through the air very quickly. It’ll penetrate and kill. Just like that.”

  It seemed easy enough. “I’d like to try.”

  He smiled. “Don’t be fooled, girl. It’s harder than it looks, but I know you can do it.”

  “Yes, Sungir.”

  It hurt him to stand, a grimace flaring for a second. “Let’s start with a lesson. You need to know how to hold the weapon properly. You must stand with your legs apart, rooting down with both feet. You brace yourself to launch the projectile.” He nodded. “Ara, you first.”

  I sat in the grass, watching my sister handle the weapon, a look of concentration on her face. Sungir showed her how to position the small rod, drawing back on the leather twine. Then the object flew into the air, landing in the grass.

  “I’m terrible at this,” she muttered.

  “Practice, girl. You’ll have to practice.”

  When my turn came, I made the same mistake, the rod falling sideways to the grass and landing harmlessly enough. I tried again and again, not understanding in the least how the thing worked.

  “Now you know how difficult it is.” Sungir took the weapon, positioning the tiny arrow and shooting. The rod cut through the air, landing in the center of the leather target across the field.

  Stunned, I ran over to it, admiring the accuracy of the hit. “That’s remarkable.”

  “Indeed.”

  I fingered the tiny spear. “I want to do that.”

  “In good time, girl. First, you need to learn how to hold it properly. Then you’ll learn to aim. Today is only the beginning.”

  “Do I pull it out?”

  “Yes. Bring it back. It’s your turn now.”

  I sat by the fire with Kia, the baby in her arms. “I didn’t do well today.” Disappointment laced my tone, my shoulders sore, as was my arm. “That stupid weapon.”

  “It looks complicat
ed. I wouldn’t know what to do with it. Give it some time.” She placed the baby over her shoulder, patting her back. “You look tired, Peta. Hunting is man’s work. I don’t know why he’s going through all the trouble to teach you girls skills best reserved for men.”

  I shrugged, not having thought about it that way. “I don’t know.”

  “He’s quite old. He won’t be with us forever. I suppose he wishes to see us self-sufficient. That’s my thought on the matter anyhow.”

  “Yes.”

  “You seem a little low in spirits. What’s the matter?”

  “It’s quiet.”

  “And that bothers you?”

  “It’s odd.”

  “Well, when Maggi cries in the middle of the night, it won’t be quiet then.” She smiled, patting the baby’s back. Maggi wore a small patch of leather around her bottom.

  Sungir appeared in the doorway, carrying a bundle of wood. He nodded to us. “Dinner won’t be much. We didn’t hunt.”

  “We have enough,” said Kia. “More than enough.”

  Ara came in behind him. “It looks like weather’s moving in.”

  The wind whistled around the edges of the hut, as it had for the better part of the day now. “Do you need me to do anything, Mamma?”

  “No, child. I have it in hand. While Maggi slept, I made a supper of greens and nuts. We’ve some dried meat too.”

  Sungir tossed a thick branch into the fire, as thunder broke over our heads. “A storm’s coming.” He glanced at Ara. “Close the door, girl. We’ll be indoors for the night.”

  She grasped the wooden panel, placing it before the opening. Thick, leather loops hung from each end, which she slid onto wooden pegs built into the walls. Despite the blustery, gusting wind, the door held firmly in place.

  We settled in for the night, eating the meager fare, while rain fell, the smell of damp wood and earth filling my senses. In the morning, after a surprisingly peaceful, quiet night, I awoke refreshed, the coals smoking in the hearth. Sungir stood by his worktable, scraping something in a curved bowl made from rock.

  He glanced over his shoulder, seeing me awake. “We hunt soon, Peta.”

  I burrowed further into the soft pelt. “No,” I muttered, wanting to sleep longer.

  “You and your sister will learn the healing arts as well as the hunting arts.”

  “Why?” Every day there seemed to be some new lesson.

  “Because I wish to pass along my knowledge.”

  Ara stirred, groaning softly in displeasure, because we had woken her with our talking.

  “I won’t be with you for many more seasons. My time … will come. I’m not a young man.”

  “Don’t speak like that, Sungir.” I tossed the pelt aside, sitting up. The early morning light streamed in from the open doorway, the hut having been positioned to take advantage of this. “You’re in remarkably good health. You know all the potions to keep you that way.”

  “I know some, but even I can’t cheat death.” Scraping sounds filled the room. “We’ve a stag to kill and bow hunting to practice. We can do both before the day’s out.”

  Lifting my shoulder, I frowned. “I ache. Everything hurts.”

  “You’re gaining strength. It soon won’t bother you.”

  “What are you making?”

  “Something for this dreadful headache.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope you feel better.”

  “That reminds me; we need another lesson on what the healing plants look like and where to find them.”

  “Must we?” I grumbled. “I’m tired.”

  “I don’t want to either,” said Ara, peeking out from the top of the pelt. “I’d rather play with Maggi.”

  “And, yet, you’ll accompany me today.” Sungir waited, daring us to argue, which we did not. “You’ll thank me one day. Mark my words.”

  I thought back to the men of the clan by the river. None of them had ever treated their daughters this way. They would never dream of taking a girl on a hunt. Girls were needed to help their mothers forage. They were meant to care for younger siblings. We whiled away the day by picking berries or beating dirt from pelts. We did not handle odd-shaped weapons and chisel rock and bone into sharp points. That was the work of men.

  Sungir observed me. “What, Peta? You’ve something on your mind.”

  “I’m … oh, it’s nothing.”

  “Good. Then please prepare to go. We’ve far to walk today.”

  I glanced at Ara, my sister scowling. I envied Kia and Maggi then, mother and baby sleeping soundly. How lucky they were.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Many seasons later …

  Having climbed the biggest tree in the forest, I sat among its highest branches, taking in the vista, eyeing the valley at the base of the smoking mountain. I came here often to think, especially now that Sungir was no longer with us. Because of his passing, Ara and I were solely responsible for Kia and Maggi’s welfare. I felt that burden keenly, wishing the old man hadn’t succumbed to illness. Not even his special potions could save him.

  My sister appeared below, the bow slung around a shoulder. “Are you going to be up there all day?”

  “I might.” I felt pensive and oddly restless. I had been thinking of what the place far beyond the mountain looked like, seeing only trees, but a smallish assortment of mountains jutted, their peaks hidden by clouds.

  “Well, when you’re ready to come down, we can take this stag back to the hut.”

  I hardly used the spear thrower, the small bow far more efficient. “I’m coming.”

  I hated to be disturbed, because being alone with my thoughts was a pleasant way to spend the time. Grasping a branch, I lowered to the next and the next, until I hung directly above Ara. My sister wore her long, black hair in a braid, tied off with a strip of leather.

  “Did you see anything?”

  “No.” I jumped to the ground, the grass feeling soft against my bare feet. “Nothing of interest.” There had been a great fire a few days ago, the smoke and flames visible from here. I could no longer see it. “Take one end.” We held a thick branch, the stag hanging by its legs. I stopped to climb after the hunt, the hut nearby.

  As we walked, we passed Sungir’s grave, the raised earth covered with rocks. A big rock sat at the top, draped with carved ivory beads. It saddened me to see it. He had died suddenly one evening, collapsing before his worktable, but he hadn’t been well for a long time.

  As we approached the hut, the door stood open, Maggi appearing. “There you are! Mamma was just asking about you.”

  My sister wore a leather skirt, with tangled, black hair in her eyes. When she stood next to Ara, they often could not be told apart, the girls nearly the same height. I towered over them, having to bend my head to enter the dwelling. Dropping the carcass by the door, I smelled something delicious, knowing Kia made soup from mushrooms.

  “We’re done for the day.”

  Mother smiled, a hint of pride flashing in her dark eyes. “Welcome back.”

  “I need to butcher the stag.” Pelts lined the floor, the older ones beneath my feet, while the fresher, softer ones lay before the hearth, where we slept. “What did you and Maggi do today?”

  “Foraged. Maggi found nuts.”

  “Good.”

  Ara glanced through the doorway. “Let’s butcher this stag, Peta. We can smoke the rest.”

  The meat would keep us for a few days, which meant less hunting and more idle time, which I adored. I went off on my own whenever I could, my thoughts lately filled with wild fantasies and a pervasive restlessness. I had yet to make sense of it all, hoping the time I spent alone might provide clarity. It hadn’t helped yet.

  “I’m coming.”

  Later that evening, after a fine meal of meat and greens with the mushroom soup, we sat by the fire. Ara and Maggi hung small pieces of the stag from branches in the hearth, smoking the meat, the smell filling the hut. As I worked a comb into Maggi’s hair, I listened to Kia
blow through a hollow bone, the sound pretty. Closing her eyes, she played a tune, Ara humming along. The warm season fully upon us, we enjoyed the later days, the sun only just having gone down.

  “Maggi might be old enough to hunt now,” said Ara.

  “Another season or two,” I countered. “Let her play while she can.” In some ways it felt as if I had been robbed of the luxury of play, always having to work, even as a child. “She should enjoy another season at least.” I patted Maggi’s shoulder. “The tangles are out now.”

  “I’m teaching her how to forage, just as I taught you.” Kia put the instrument down, the whitish-looking bone unusually shaped. “Women shouldn’t hunt anyhow.”

  I sat with my arms resting upon my knees, staring at the fire. “Yet we must.”

  Ara twisted her hair around a finger, looking thoughtful. “We’ve not seen traders in a long time.”

  Every so often, men had passed through, some wanting to speak to Sungir. All of them had been kind and respectful, desiring only to trade. I typically hid in a tree with the bow, until the threat had been fully assessed. Then Kia would call to me, telling me to come down. Mercifully, we had never had trouble, the seasons passing uneventfully, except for the night Sungir died. His death shook our world, a reminder that nothing good ever lasted forever, and change, therefore, was inevitable. I could not help feeling something else was coming …

  “Did you hear anything I said, Peta?” Kia smiled affectionately. “You’re somewhere else.”

  “What? What about the traders?” I suspected Ara wished to find a man, she had mentioned it a few times, although we had not spoken of it lately. “What?”

  “Shall I roast some nuts?”

  Maggi’s eyes widened. “Yes, please! I love them roasted.”

  “And more music,” said Ara. “I love the sound of it.”

  Kia got to her feet. “My children are so demanding.”

  After eating and enjoying another melody, Ara and I settled beneath a thick pelt, while Maggi slept with Kia. I stared at the wooden ceiling, listening to the wind.

  “Are you asleep?” whispered Ara.