by C. S. Bills
His sincere request and his words, his reminder that this tale was of their own past, seemed to cause at least a few of the hunters’ curiosity to overcome their hostility, and one by one, including Paven, they sat again.
Ashukat’s shoulders relaxed. “So... we grew to be many Clans, multiplying in the richness of this place, until the Cold came. The rivers froze and stayed frozen for many months at a time, something that had never occurred before. Berries and other edible plants grew scarce, even in the times when the weather warmed. And those times grew shorter and shorter as the cold times grew longer. We realized all of us could no longer live here. Most would have to leave.
“Each family chose who they would travel with. Some moved south along the coast. Some moved east and south to hunt on the plains we’d traversed many generations ago. But the seasons of warm continued to grow shorter, and the cold longer and more bitter. We realized those left among us were still too many to survive in this land.
“When the world you call Nuvikuan-na had grown so cold our ocean froze and stayed frozen, some of our people left us to hunt upon the now frozen Expanse to the north and west as our ancestors had done when crossing that first ocean. There were no swimming birds here, but at first, there was much game, perhaps driven south by the cold. Once the initial scouts returned, telling of this Expanse and displaying their kill of many large nuknuks and snow otters, we met as one people, one last time. We added new Clan symbols to those already on the great Rock, symbols chosen to reflect new lives, the spirits of Ice, Air, Rock, and Water. Our Clan recognized them as part of the Great Spirit’s world, Ones who would protect our people on the Great Expanse, Ones through whom the Great Spirit could speak and work.
“Some of us have Gifts of Seeing what is to come. Two among us at the time had powerful Gifts of Seeing into the future. They saw a time of Warming that would eventually come again. Our people believed it was not right to allow some of us to travel over the dangerous Expanse of Ice to live for many generations without leaving some of us to stand guard for them, to call them back if needed. Those two were right. The people of the Expanse Clans, over time, forgot where they had come from, and that they would need to return when the Warming came again.
“Here, near the Rock, we saw the Clan symbols every day, and the guarding was passed down as a sacred promise to the Great Spirit that you would not be forgotten when the time came. But your people lived far out on the ice and the rocky bits of land, and over time, fewer and fewer with the Gifts were born. I see now,” he glanced at Paven, “that your hunters grew more important than your Elders who could See, and that is probably why most of your stories and beliefs were either lost or considered old men’s tales or old women’s tales, and not a true accounting of your past.”
A few of the older men and women of both Clans nodded in agreement with Ashukat, including Ubantu. Attu recognized the serious look on his father’s face as he nodded.
I’ve seen that look once before, when Elder Nuanu reminded Father of the tradition that needed to be followed as we traveled over new ice, east to the great land.
Elder Nuanu herself had only traveled the ancient route of the Ice Mountain Clan, which took almost a lifetime, she said, a huge circle over the ice and outcroppings of rock my people called home, hunting the game until it was scarce and then moving on. Still, she knew the words and actions needed for traveling over ice new to the Clan...
How could she have known this? And what else had she known and not shared? Had Elder Nuanu felt like I did, that telling about such things would make others think she was lying to make herself seem more important? Would we have believed her? Or would we have all thought Elder Nuanu was an old woman, losing her mind as she neared her time to go Between? Wasn’t that what I thought of Elder Tovut? And the words he had spoken before his death had come true. Had Elder Tovut been able to see the future? Had Elder Nuanu been able to see into both the past and the future?
Attu looked to his father, his mind in turmoil. Their gazes met. Ubantu looked away.
He’s remembering, too. Attu felt his own cheeks redden. Elder Nuanu shamed us that day we started out from the island, after the ice bear attacks.
“The time came, as those with the Gifts of Seeing the future had predicted,” Ashukat continued. “Nuvikuan-na warmed. And when it became clear this was truly the Warming, we fulfilled our promise and called you off the ice.”
Several of the men and women popped their lips at this knowledge. Many of Attu’s Clan looked with even greater interest on this strange and powerful man with the white hair and eyes the color of the sky.
But Attu also felt an undercurrent of tension in the Seer Clan’s group. Those he had met with the Gifts were nodding, calm understanding on their faces, and perhaps even pride.
They should feel pride, Attu supposed, calling us off this ice as they did, saving so many people.
But several of the Seer hunters exchanged glances, and their eyebrows drew together, faces drawn down with what looked like frustration mixed with anger.
Apparently not all the Seers had felt the obligation to stay and call the Expanse Clans off the ice.
How would I feel if I were made to stay here, wanting to leave but being told by those with Gifts that strangers needed us to save them? Meanwhile the life of hunting the curved tusks on the dry and sunny grasslands would lay like a new spear with a sharp ice bear tooth point right in front of me, just out of reach...
“The Rock was the symbol of our unity, of our promise,” Ashukat was saying. “The Rock reminded us to do our duty by your Clans. In a way, the Rock itself saved you.” Ashukat paused and looked east toward the dark Rock, with its circle of deeply carved Clan signs rising up black against the starlit sky. The Clans turned and looked at the Rock and all grew quiet, until a log in the fire popped and everyone jumped, many laughing as they realized they’d been caught up in the storyteller’s spell.
“Some of your stories,” Ashukat spoke again, “like the stories of the New Green your Elder Nuanu used to tell, are a mixture of what was true in our world, and what was not. I have heard that story. When we first met you, you lived and said you had always lived on the islands and coastlines of the great ocean north of us, until the increasing cold there had driven you farther south, where we met.”
“I don’t believe you,” Paven interrupted the old man. “How can you know all this with such certainty?”
“How do you know when a storm is coming, brother? You have learned to read the signs in the sky, in the wind, in the way the animals act. And I’m sorry to have to say it, but if your people had kept the ancient ways, your Elders would have known these things. You yourself dreamed, Paven. I know because it was me calling to you. But you didn’t know to listen. You put your whole Clan in danger because you did not know you needed to heed the signs of your own dreams. But now, you know. You must heed what I’m telling you. It’s not too late. And I have much more I can teach you-”
Paven rose again in anger.
“Foolishness,” he spat. “All foolishness. I will listen to no more of this.” He walked out of the firelight toward the far side of the clearing where his hide shelter lay. Several of his hunters followed him. Their women went as well, carrying their sleeping children.
Others began to stir.
“Attu has Gifts, as you all know,” Ashukat’s voice rang out, in what seemed to Attu like an attempt to draw the Clan’s attention away from Paven’s leaving.
Attu felt many eyes focused on him. His face grew hot.
“You as well, Rika,” Ashukat added. Rika grasped Attu’s hand under the fur they were sharing. Her hand was trembling.
“What happened to the people who went east and south?” Ubantu asked. Many turned to look at him. Ubantu had been quiet for so many days it seemed to surprise the Clans that he now spoke. He leaned toward Ashukat, as if to better hear whatever answer the old man might give. “You said they were of our Clan as well. What became of them during the Cold?”
A deep moan whispered through the trees, although the wind hadn’t stirred. The hair on the back of Attu’s neck rose as he looked in the direction of the sound.
“After several generations we lost touch with those who traveled the southern plains,” Ashukat said. “Fewer and fewer of them were born with the Gifts. The last Elder who possessed them passed to the Between and we became blind to that Clan, although they still numbered many.”
“And the Clans traveling south, along the coast?” Ubantu asked. The trees moaned again, this time as a sudden rush of cold wind circled through the camp. Sparks flew up from the fire, and Attu felt something in the air, like he used to feel when the Moolnikuan spirits raced between the snow houses when Moolnik was causing trouble in the Clan. Something evil was moving among them tonight, but it was a spirit Attu didn’t recognize.
Ashukat stared at the fire for a long time after the chill wind stopped. Everyone waited until he seemed to shake himself out of a deep place to answer Ubantu’s question. “There were many who had the Gifts in the southern Clan. They continued to be strong in communicating with us, not just hearing us. For many generations we followed their slow travel down the coastline of this land, until they reached a place where they could live, free from the ice even in the depths of the Cold Time. They settled near a broad river and traded with others they met who passed that way, exchanging stories and goods with them. They had many good storytellers, and they told stories of the beauty of the land to the north from which they had come, often exaggerated, I’m afraid.” Ashukat laughed, but his face grew serious again. “They held this land where we are now in their hearts, and it grew to be almost a spiritual quest for them, I think, that they would one day return. One day, when the Warming came again. But they never did.”
“Why not?” Ubantu asked. “They’ve had time to be called north, as we were called off the ice, haven’t they?”
Ashukat looked around the group. The children who remained were all sleeping, snuggled on the laps of their parents or under furs near the fire. The adults were sitting quietly. Ashukat stared into the flames, and it seemed to Attu that he was gathering strength for his answer.
Attu realized he was holding his own breath. He let it out slowly as the old man spoke again.
“One night, we were awakened by their screams. They were-”
“Their screams?” Ubantu interrupted. “But you just said they were many, many moons to the south of here. How could your people hear their screams?”
Ashukat shook his head, and Attu saw his face, now more pale than ever in the moonlight, the wrinkles on his forehead like great furrows. “Oh, we heard them,” the old man replied. “Nothing is worse than hearing the screams of a people you cannot go to, cannot help, because you are so far away from them and the screams are only in your mind. One moment they were sleeping; the next, they were being mercilessly slaughtered. By dawn the next day, not a single Clan member with the Gifts remained. Whoever survived of the Clan, if any, were lost to us.”
“Who killed them?” Ubantu asked. “Do you know?”
“No. We could only see through those with Gifts, and most of what we saw made no sense to us, except it seemed that everyone was killed, men, women, and children.” Ashukat shuddered, and drew his cloak tightly around his shoulders.
The clearing was silent. No one moved. Attu worked to grasp the horror of both the slaughter and how it must have been for the Seers to witness. The darkness around them seemed to grow even darker.
Ubantu let out a long slow breath. “We cannot bring back the things of the past,” he said. Ubantu’s voice held a note of mourning, and Attu knew that at that moment his father was not only feeling sorrow for the Clan killed to the south, but his own sorrow over the melted Expanse, the only world he had ever known, now gone. Ubantu drew back into the shadows, wrapping a fur around himself. Attu heard Yural whispering to her man, then all grew quiet again.
Ashukat studied the fire for a long time. All those around him seemed to be waiting for him to speak again. “Enough telling for this night. I grow weary,” Ashukat finally said. He stood.
Two Seers appeared from the shadows where they had apparently been listening. They moved to flank Ashukat and he walked away with them, disappearing into the woods in the direction of their own camp at the base of the Rock.
Chapter 3
Attu and Rika had just settled down in their shelter for the night when the door flap opened.
“It is Ashukat, and I bring no evil,” the Seer said. He slipped into the shelter and stood in the pitch blackness.
“What do you need, Ashukat? Is someone ill? Does your healer need my help?” Rika asked as she slipped from the comfort of the sleeping furs.
“No,” the old man said. “No. I need to talk to you both.”
“One moment.” Rika stirred the small fire, adding a few pieces of new wood to the embers. They caught and the flame lit the interior of the shelter.
“I need to tell you something,” Ashukat’s voice was a whisper as he sat on the furs Rika had hastened to move by the fire.
He turned away from Rika and stared at the fire, blazing brightly now, the flames making dancing shadows on the walls behind them. Now here, the old Seer seemed in no hurry to tell them the reason for his late night visit.
Attu and Rika waited, tiredly leaning upon one another. Attu’s eyes had begun to close when Ashukat finally spoke.
“I want you to train in the Gifts, you and Rika. Your Gifts are strong. With the right training, you could become one of us, do what we do, See what we see. A Seer in the truest sense of the word, not of the Seer Clan, but able to See, to exercise and use your Gifts to benefit us all. If you’re willing, we can start right away.”
“What about the curved tusk hunt?” Attu asked Ashukat.
“You still need to do that, of course. The plan of our hunters all along has been to follow the curved tusks along with the last Clan to leave the ice. Our numbers have grown small, and your people are needed to help our people survive. It takes many hunters to kill the great tusked ones, as you will see. After a few practice hunts, we’ll be leaving this place for good when the herds move north and east again. I’d thought there’d be much time ahead for us and I could train you as we move along, but now I’m not sure that can happen.”
“Why?”
“Paven has made it clear tonight that he has no use for me or others with the Gifts. His is a strong stubborn spirit. There will surely be violence between Paven and some of his hunters and my Clan, if our Clans travel together.”
“You should take what hunters want to go with you and leave this place without Paven and his hunters,” Attu said.
“But what about you? What are the Ice Mountain people going to do?”
“Some will follow Paven.” Attu felt his stomach tightening at the thought of his Clan being divided. He looked at Rika.
“Attu and I won’t be going with my father’s Clan, or-”
“You don’t mean you’re staying here?” Ashukat’s bushy eyebrows shot up as he interrupted Rika.
“Would it be so bad if we did?” Attu asked. He squeezed Rika’s hand under the furs.
“Didn’t you feel the malevolence in the air this night?” Ashukat turned and looked into Attu’s eyes as if he could see to the very core of Attu’s spirit. Attu dropped his gaze.
“I felt the tension in the air among the Clans. You’re right about Paven and many of the other hunters and how they feel about you-”
“No,” Ashukat interrupted, “it’s more than that. Didn’t you feel it, Attu? Haven’t you been feeling it, Rika? That sense that something’s not right, something is hidden, something is making you feel out of place here, wrong?”
“I thought it was because this place is new. Everything here feels wrong to me,” Attu said.
“To many of us,” Rika added.
“Still, the children of your Clan play, your women cook the game, and although this place is still strange to them,
most seem to be settling in. But you’re not, are you?”
“No,” Attu and Rika said together.
“And some of your Elders, your father, your mother, are feeling as you are?”
“Yes, most are.” Rika stared into the flames. “But we’ve talked about it, and Attu and I thought it was because they’re so far from the home they’d known all their lives, and far from their name spirits.”
“That may be true in part, but I’m convinced there’s more to it than that. Some of my people started feeling it as well, shortly after you came. They feel like I do, like we need to prepare, to leave sooner than we’d expected to leave. We’ve lived here for generations, so why rush away now? It makes no sense to us, but still, we feel it. It’s like the violent storms from the west that bring the surging waves and stinging rain: we’re feeling the air changing but can’t see the storm itself. Not yet. There is a storm brewing, however. The Great Spirit is warning us. We need to leave this place, now, even though our hunters are refusing to go before we can follow the curved tusks migrating north once again. All they can see is the game in front of them, and here there is plenty.”
So Ashukat does not hold total sway over the Seer Clan... Attu shivered. The Seer hunters sound like Moolnik did before the ice bear killed a woman of the Clan and later, her man.
“You both have the Gifts, and they are strong,” Ashukat continued. “I will convince our hunters who cannot See that we need to leave before they’d planned to go, but why wait until we are underway? I want to begin training the two of you. I know you have many questions, and I’m eager to begin answering them the right way, through proper training. And I’m hoping you will separate from Paven and his Clan. They can go their own way across the grassland. We will find ours.”
“We would have died when the ice melted, if not for your Clan,” Rika spoke for all of their people, her eyes steady on the Elder’s face. “Attu and I want to know anything we can about the Gifts we possess, so we can do what’s necessary, as you do, to keep our Clans safe.”
