by T E Olivant
"But I’m an eighty!" I cried as hot tears threatened to drop from my eyes.
The woman smiled across her fat cheeks.
"Breeding isn’t everything darling."
That was practically a heresy! But I wasn’t about to give the woman the satisfaction of showing my shock. Something in me finally accepted that I was wasting my time. I did not argue any more. Instead I calmly and deliberately gathered up my papers and left the room without another world.
It wasn’t until the door closed behind me that I started to worry about what my mother would say.
Chapter 2: Kyrk
I pushed against the heavy stone door until it opened a crack and the glare of the White crept in. I let my fingers play in the light stream and watched as the tiny ice particles floated against my fur. I heard a sound behind me and pushed it closed once more.
“Is it time yet?” My brother Jony hopped back and forth and tried to get past. I bared my teeth at him and he backed up a little.
“Not yet. Have you checked the supplies?”
“Yes.”
“Well, check again.”
I watched him scurry back to the cooking fire in a sulk. I ran my fingers over my face and leaned my back against the door. Almost a year since our parents had died and I still struggled to replace them. I knew that Jony missed the fun big brother he had once known, but I had too much to worry about now to be that almost forgotten person.
I picked up my own pack to check its contents, but dropped it back down on the floor. What was the point – I had checked three times already, nothing was missing. We were as prepared as we could ever be. A quick glance behind me showed that Jony wasn’t following so I pushed the door open and stepped out of the cave into the White.
I relished the feeling of the outside. First, I felt my skin tingle at the sudden drop in temperature and my lungs gasp as the icy air filled them. My eyes narrowed and I strained to keep them open in the bright light. Everything was White. The scene before me was cold, empty and deadly. Just as it should be. Despite everything, I felt elated at the thought of escaping the cave, of feeling my limbs move again as they were supposed to. We had been cooped up too long.
The wind whipped some fresh snow into my face and I cleared it away. The gesture reminded me of one of my parents, I couldn’t even remember which it had been, gently brushing the snow from my eyes on last year’s pilgrimage. A larger, stronger hand had held my own. Then I had been the child: how different I felt now.
I turned my mind back to the journey and examined the clouds. They were full and white and promised of snow later. But when I held my right hand in front of me the wind was gentle, and barely rippled my fur, so it would be a good day for the walk. A little snow was nothing to fear.
Less apprehensive, I went back inside. I could hear shouts from the back of the cave where Jony was no doubt tormenting our younger sister. Mya could give as good as she got of course, hissing back insults that hurt more than Jon’s kicks and punches. Sometimes I wondered if they liked each other at all. As they had been ever since our parents died, tempers were short.
I sat down on my pack and closed my eyes to think. We had to go to the Meet. It was the one rule that could never be broken. No matter how far we travel my people must return to our base once a year. We must be counted, be accounted for as my father used to say when he was feeling particularly aggrieved at making the long trip. So, every year as the snow storms lessen and the winds ease we make our way home. This year it was my job to take us back safely. It would not be easy.
But there was no excuse to skip the Meet, even though I dreaded it more than the journey itself. It is the nature of our people to seek solitude, my mother once explained to me. But there are certain necessities that can only be conducted with others. She smiled at my father then and he laughed at her and although I was only a child I knew that they meant sex, sex and babies and the continuation of our race. I thought of my blushes two years ago as a pretty girl passed me a sip of moonshine while our parents weren’t looking, the stolen kisses last year behind a convenient wall. There would be no room this year for fun and flirting.
“I don’t want to go,” a small voice said beside me. I swept Mya up into my arms.
“Me neither,” I whispered into her soft furry ear. I held her close for a moment then set her down.
“Sooner we get going, sooner it’ll be over. Go get your brother. The White won’t wait.”
I checked through Mya and Jon’s packs one last time. They carried only as much food and water as they would need for the two-day trek. I took the animal skin that would form our sleeping tent, along with my own supplies and some precious items for trade.
Last of all I reached for my father’s hunting knife that I had left on the table, its dark metal shining at me in the torchlight. Unlike others I had seen, the knife was not engraved, nor did it come in an embroidered sheath. It was simply tied across the chest with a leather strap. I knotted it carefully and it nestled against my fur. Mya and Jony watched me pat it gently and said nothing, but their faces were suddenly grim.
Like all Hunters, the kids understood the importance of the knife. Its weight was both a burden and a comfort on my chest. My clan were Hunters, and the knife was the tool of our trade as well as the symbol of our clan. Our role was not so much to look for food, apart from what we needed for ourselves: the massive deer herds near the City provided that. We were there to capture and kill, to provide precious commodities that could not be gained from deer. We were also the last defence against some of the stranger beasts of the White.
It was the most dangerous role of any Clan. We kept other people safe, but sometimes we died. When my parents died and the Clan members came to visit us it wasn’t their pity that angered me. It was their acceptance. Their knowledge that death was just part of the job. Nothing remarkable. Except for three terrified children who had just lost their parents.
I hated the clan then. But now, in taking up the knife, in forcing my brother and sister out into the White, I was proclaiming myself one of them. One of us. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Maybe it would be nice to be part of something after feeling alone for so long. I would see for sure at the Meet.
“Time to go.” I called as the sun rose higher in the sky and we were close to missing our chance. I couldn’t put it off any longer. Mya and Jony ran up to my side. They looked more excited than scared and I felt proud of what my little brother and sister had achieved. It would not be an easy journey, but neither of them made a fuss. They were helping me to cope as the parent, and I felt a flutter in my stomach that told me how much I needed their help. Like I had done for much of the last year I felt that fear of failure, the sense of walking on ice, always on the edge of a precipice. But we had made it this far, so there was hope, however slim.
We braced ourselves and set off into the White. I heard a sound and tensed, ready for action, only to realise it was Mya whooping with excitement.
“Wheeee!” she cried as she ran off across the snow. Jony looked at me for a second then he was off, screeching like his sister and running alongside. I should have told them to slow down, but the pace would drop soon enough and I couldn’t bear to stop them. It was as if a year of sadness and regret was dropping off them as they ran out into the snow.
The kids settled down soon enough and we began our trek across the White. At first I found it frustrating to slow my pace to match there’s. I was used to hunting alone, just me and the White, and then I would travel as fast as my legs could carry me. But at least I could appreciate the landscape around me. The White was as beautiful as it was deadly. The winds carved the snow into beautiful structures that towered over us. Deep patches of snow might conceal a crevasse where the unwary could find his feet fall away underneath him, only to meet death at the bottom of a deep hole.
The cold preserves as it kills, and more than once we walked past the corpse of a wild deer that had been caught in the snow. Whenever we came to one of these h
aunting figures, legs half buried in the drifts I hurried the children forward. I didn’t want them to think that it could have been us, trapped and frozen to death. It was my job to worry about that.
I’m not a Digger, so I don’t know much about what lurks under the ice, but we would not be the first Hunters to fall through a crevasse into a frozen river, or be carried away on a lead – the gap between two ice floes. Often people merely disappear, go out on a hunt and never return. There are legends about what happens to them – perhaps they are taken by the White bears that no one has seen for centuries. More likely they just fell and never got back up.
“Time to stop,” I called when the sun began to dip below the snow. The kids were exhausted and dropped to the floor, but I felt elated. We were half way there and we had made better time than I thought.
I piled the snow quickly with my hands to make a windbreak and then got the kids to lie curled together. I curled my body around them and pulled a large fur over the top of us, so that it covered us snugly. We were bred so that we could survive a night even without a fur, but there was no harm in a little bit of comfort.
I waited until Mya and Jon’s breathing had steadied into sleep before I allowed my own eyes to shut. I knew there were no dangerous beasts here, and my Hunter’s ears would hear any that tried to approach, but I was still uneasy. As I began to drift off I curled my arms around Mya’s warm furry body. It was hard to believe that only a few centuries ago humans had no fur at all. Hairless like babies, if the old stories were to be believed. I closed my eyes and wondered what they might have been like.
We were up with the sun and walked at a good pace. It was late in the day before we saw anyone else heading for the Meet. Their short, smooth fur and slight bodies with long delicate fingers marked them out as Doctors. The group of Doctors came from the West. They seemed to be a few family groups who travelled together. Unlike Hunters, Doctors tend to move in large groups. They are small and their bodies are more fragile than most of our race. They are known for intelligence, not for strength. They are dangerously clever though, and should never be underestimated.
“Let’s walk this way and intercept them,” I called to the kids who walked just behind me. “Could be a chance for an early trade.”
I have always been a little afraid of the Doctors with their strange medicines. I remember when she was pregnant with Mya my mother had asked for a Doctor to come and see her. The old woman arrived with a small sack of unfamiliar tools and took my mother into the other room. She had announced that there was nothing to worry about, but that she would stay for the birth.
The doctor stayed for a week. She smelled of the pungent herbs grown in the doctor’s compound and her eyes were too sharp and followed me around the cave. I knew how clever doctors were, and I couldn’t help feeling dull and slow in her presence. She never said anything, but sometimes I would catch her looking at the way we ate, or the way our cave was full of animal skins and teeth and I could feel her judging us. It made me angry, but also strangely ashamed.
My father told me not to be afraid of the doctors. “They are just another clan, and every clan has their secrets. They are no more magical than you or I.”
When the time came for mother to give birth, the strange noises and squeals of pain that came from the room at the back of the cave made me fear even more. Even when the doctor finally emerged and passed tiny Mya to my proud father, I was still afraid. Not until I saw my mother, tired and worn but alive, did my fears ease a little.
But still, I thought as I watched the figures grow ever closer, there was something frightening about them with their power to give life or death.
“Stay close,” I called to the children, keeping my voice calm. Before long the Doctors were just to our right. I called a greeting and waved. A man at the back of the group turned around, but did not wave back. I changed the angle of our walk so that we would intercept them.
“I have trade.” I called out and reached for my bag. It was often better to trade on the way to the Meet as there was less competition, and most clans would take the opportunity to cut out the middle man.
“We want no trade from you.” The young man who spoke had a deep voice that boomed across the ice. He was broad for a Doctor, with a good layer of fat over his muscle. He was nearly a foot shorter than me, so I wasn’t worried about a fight, but I was taken aback by the force of his words. He seemed angry even at the suggestion.
“But I have some unusual items...” I reached into the bottom of the bag for the wolf teeth that the Doctors prized. The man stepped towards me.
“Take your hand out of that bag.” He said, his face set in an angry frown. He had a stripe of light brown fur that made his face look lopsided.
I pushed Jony and Mya behind me.
“What’s the problem here?”
“I said, take your hand out of the bag and give it to me.”
I shook my head. Everything we had of value was in that bag, there was no way I was going to hand it over. The rest of the clan began to surround us. I could feel my claws tense. I tried another tack.
“I only asked for trade. If you are not interested, that’s fine. There are plenty who will be at the Meet.”
The man took another step forward but stopped as an older woman placed his hand on his arm.
“We are in a hurry, I’m afraid. You can make your trades with the clans at the Meet.” The old woman said, her tone cold but not threatening. The young Doctor looked annoyed, but I was glad of the interruption. I was within my right to challenge the Doctors about their rudeness, but I was in no mood to continue the conversation. If the kids had not been there I might have given him a taste of Hunter strength. As it was I merely turned away without another word.
This was strange. Yes, doctors were a secretive bunch, but they had never been openly hostile. We were all travelling to the same meet after all. As I watched the kids walking in front of me I reminded myself not to take any chances. I had no protection now, and they only had me.
The City rose like a star from the horizon that evening. Mya was on my back by then and Jony could barely place one foot in front of the other. First, we saw the smoke over the black cliffs. As soon as my eyes made out the grey smear I found new life in my legs, and even Jony beside me let out a weary yelp of excitement. Only in the City would people dare to let their fires send plumes of smoke into the atmosphere. They didn’t have to fear detection from the beasts of the White.
We curved round to the West to avoid the crevasse field where the unwary could get caught in hidden chasms beneath the ice. The path to the city wove between two ice cliffs and as we got close enough to smell the people it narrowed to a thin entrance. When the cliffs narrowed so that we had to walk shoulder to shoulder we came to a barrier where two huge guards had blocked the passage. This was new. Last year there had only been a thin official from the ruling clan there to check names. Now there were Builders, huge with wiry fur and unfriendly faces.
I drew in a breath to puff out my chest and pulled Jony closer to me. I could feel the sharp tips of Mya’s claws as she clung to my back.
“Weapons?” The first guard called in a gruff voice. I indicated the knife across my chest. The second guard grabbed my pack and searched through it. I could feel the irritation rising in my throat, but I willed myself to stay calm.
“Clear.” The guard pushed the bag back into my hand. I shuffled forward to the next man, a small, wiry member of the Doctor clan.
“Clan?” Came a high staccato voice about level with my chest.
I almost laughed, as if my clan was not obvious from my body, but one look at the man’s face showed he had no sense of humour.
“Hunter.”
“Name?”
“Kyrk.”
“You must pay the tithe.”
I nodded wearily and reached for my pack. I had not forgotten.
“How many kills this year?”
“Seventy-one.” The man nodded without looking up, but
I felt I had to explain myself. “I have been looking after my brother and sister, so I…”
The man merely stretched his hand out in front of him.
“Ten per cent.” I pulled some teeth and skins out of the pack. The man examined them carefully, then with a jerk of his neck let me know that I was now free to pass. I told Jony and Mya to follow and walked on, my pack a little lighter than before. Of course, I could have lied and said I had gathered much less than I had done on the White. But somehow they would find out, and the rumours of what happened if you were found to cheat the tithe were not pleasant.
I kept a hand on each of the children’s backs as we entered the city – I wanted them close. The streets of the city are narrow at the best of times, but the traders had set up their stalls so that there was barely room to move. Each time a large furred figure brushed past me I flinched, but I knew I had to get used to it. The contrast between our usual life out on the White where we might not see another soul for months and this strange throbbing crowd was dizzying. While I felt anxious, the kids were excited and hyperactive, exclaiming at every new thing they saw.
Some tents were large and filled with people. Always the most popular were the Diggers’ stalls, selling strange curios unearthed from the frozen White. I let the children linger for a moment beside a large Farmer who held up a huge dark flint critically.
“Dug up last month,” the Digger stallholder explained, his sharp teeth set in an ingratiating smile. “From the southern mines, the largest ever found.”
The Farmer merely sniffed and set the rock back down. The trader shrugged and switched his gaze to another customer. The Diggers had it easy – no one else could provide the materials that they pulled from the earth. They would always find a buyer.
A tall spindly woman walked past, a baby strapped to her back, and I had to pull the children out of the way of her quick strides.
