Beyond Belief (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 4)

by C. S. Bills

  “If they find out you helped us, they’ll be after you, too,” Spartik said. “You should have stayed where you would be safe. You can’t begin to understand what we’re up against.”

  “Is that what this is all about?” Attu asked. He glared at Toonuk and Spartik. “I know you didn’t ask for our help, but you didn’t tell us the whole truth, either. Did we just get pulled into the middle of a Clan war? Isn’t this more than just a few thieves who need to be stopped? There were at least thirty men in that group.”

  Toonuk looked at Attu in disbelief. “No. What I told you is true. They were renegade hunters, men who’d gone off on their own-”

  “Or been shunned by your Clan,” Attu added. “It looks to me like you’ve created this situation yourselves, or at least made it worse than it needed to be.”

  “How dare you?” Spartik hissed. “We didn’t ask for your help. How did you even know we were being attacked?”

  Attu ignored his question. “And now some of the thieves might figure out there is a Clan not traveling with a herd, but just sitting on the edge of this bay, waiting to be attacked, because you can’t reconcile your differences with your own men and get them back into a Clan where they belong.”

  “We will never take thieves back,” Toonuk spat, turning away from Attu. He picked a few men to return with the herd and more to return quickly, armed and ready to defend their women and children in case the other thieves attacked.

  “We’ll need to find the rest,” Spartik said.

  “There will only be a few left behind, maybe two or three.” Toonuk turned to one of his men. “Take eight others and find those thieves and kill them.” The man rushed away, calling to others to join him.

  “Some of my men-” Attu began.

  “None of your men should go,” Toonuk said. “If any of the thieves see you, they’ll know we’ve made contact with another Clan. You look different. Your clothes, the way you move. And you speak oddly.” Toonuk called out more orders, and his men moved swiftly.

  “He’s right,” Attu said aside to his hunters. “But we need to know that the thieves have been dealt with before the Tuktu head south again.”

  Suka, Ubantu, and the others nodded their agreement.

  Toonuk turned back to Attu’s group. He’d obviously overheard what Attu had said. “Send a man or two to our camp tomorrow. We’ll let them know as soon as we’re done with these thieves. Then we’ll be moving south again.” Toonuk glanced back toward the bodies. “You think our ways are wrong. I think you are an odd people, fresh off the ice and rather naïve. But more of us would have died today if not for your men. Thank you for your help.” Toonuk strode away before Attu could reply.

  “The most severely injured of our herders is still alive, but our healer said the spirits of infection are already in the man’s chest wound and there isn’t much hope for him.” Toonuk stood to the side of the pile of weapons that they’d gathered, later that afternoon. “The others will recover.”

  Tuktu thief corpses had been gathered to be burned on the plain, well away from the dead grass of the lake and the trees.

  “What do we do with the bodies still stuck in the lake?” one of Attu’s hunters asked.

  “I thought of burning them right where they are, but that would only burn the part out of the water...” Soantek said, letting his words drift away at the look of horror the others gave him.

  “Why don’t we use the skin boats and rope to grab the bodies? Then we can stand on shore and pull them out,” Bashoo suggested. “This whole side of the lake is open water now.”

  “Maybe you can haul them out, but we can’t.” One of the Tuktu herders looked up at Bashoo, half angry at Bashoo’s suggestion and half in awe of the man’s great size.

  “We’ll use the tuktu I kept back,” Spartik said. The men moved reluctantly, Attu’s to the skin boats and Toonuk’s to get the tuktu and pulling harnesses. No one wanted to do the grisly work of fastening ropes around the dead thieves and pulling their bodies out, but without a proper ritual and burning or burying of the bodies, the Tuktu thieves’ spirits would roam in the Here and Now forever.

  Attu wrapped a rope around one of the dead thieves. He concentrated on removing what weapons he could find from the man he was working on. He unfastened the heavy arrow pouch the thief was wearing so his spear rope could be passed over the man’s shoulders and under his arms.

  When the last body had been piled in a heap on the plain and surrounded with wood, Yural spoke the proper words of burial and of protection for her people, and Spartik did the same. Toonuk touched the wood with a torch, and flames mounted into the evening sky. Yural continued praying, and Attu knew she was praying for the spirits of the thieves, that they might go Between and wouldn’t be left to roam Nuvikuan-na forever, looking for a body to enter. Attu shuddered.

  He looked down at his rope and his mind flashed back to dragging corpses to the muddy bank. Disgusted by all that the rope now seemed to represent, he grabbed it and threw its coils on the flames. Precious or not, Attu never wanted to touch that rope again.

  Attu looked around at the others. Everyone looked as exhausted as he felt. It seemed to Attu that much time had passed since the beginning of the fight. But it had just been one day, he realized, as he looked west, where the clouds above the hills glowed red to match the fire.

  Toonuk, Spartik, and the last of the herders had headed south again, and the camp was unusually quiet. Attu had sent Ubantu with them, and he returned two days later as the sun was just clearing the morning horizon.

  “The rest of the thieves are dead,” Ubantu reported. Then he motioned for Attu to come with him as he walked into a cleared area away from camp.

  “These will have to be purified before we touch them.” Ubantu rolled out the hide enclosing the weapons the Tuktu had given Attu’s Clan onto the dry grass. Father and son stood a long time, listening to the wind blowing through the trees to the north. Finally, Ubantu pulled his hood up more firmly around his ears and turned to Attu.

  “I was reluctant to take them, Son, but we couldn’t say no to the Tuktu’s gift, payment for our help. And we need the bows and arrows.”

  “And now it looks like we have six. That was generous of the Tuktu, since many of the weapons we recovered were broken and some were lost in the lake.”

  “Spartik kept asking me how we knew they’d been attacked. He didn’t believe me when I told him that we heard the rumbling of the herd as it raced north. He knows we got to the lake too soon to have simply heard them coming.”

  “But you told him nothing else? Nothing of our Gifts?”

  “No. We should tell these Tuktu nothing we don’t have to tell them. They are not to be trusted.” Ubantu turned back to the weapons.

  Attu used a hide to protect his hand as he picked up one of the bows the Tuktu given them. “Mother will make sure these weapons carry no evil spirits.” He set the bow back on the large hide and carefully rewrapped the weapons. “Will you take them to her?”

  Ubantu nodded, but he made no move to pick up the bundle. Instead he sat, motioning for Attu to join him. They sat in silence for a while. “They had to kill them all,” Ubantu finally said. “Toonuk said there are at least three other bands left, and the men sometimes move among the bands. Any who escaped would tell the others that Toonuk’s Clan was responsible for killing Korack and his men. And they would tell the others about us. If they think nothing of killing their own men...”

  Ubantu paused and looked out over the now frozen ocean, with its dusting of snow moving in swirls across the surface. “We cannot draw close to this enemy,” he continued. “We cannot talk to them, tell them we will not harm them if they will leave us alone. We cannot try to share what we have or make peace of any kind. They are outcasts of their own people, like rogue nuknuk males banded together, killing and taking what they want, angry at their own people for driving them away, and preferring to prey on the Clans that cast them out instead of trying to make new lives for
themselves without them. I have no doubt they would kill us and take what we have, including our women, if given the chance.”

  “It’s hard to believe anyone would go against the spirits so violently, killing innocent people to steal what they have, then moving on to kill more.” Attu wiped loose hair from his face. He realized his hand was trembling. “Even the Ravens followed their Raven Spirit, as evil as it was.”

  “Do you think these Tuktu thieves are the men in your vision?” Ubantu asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “At least now we have a few bows and arrows.” Ubantu tried to smile, but Attu could feel his father’s fear under his words.

  “Not nearly enough.” Attu turned back toward camp as a poolik started crying. Another joined in, and the camp grew loud with infant cries. Attu thought about how far such noise would carry across the frozen bay.

  Ubantu picked up the bundle. “Yural will get the weapons back to us as soon as she’s sure they are purified.”

  “We’ll be prepared, but we will also hope and pray,” Yural said. The Clan had been discussing the Tuktu thieves, and everyone was worried. But at Yural’s words, the others seemed to calm and eventually began talking of other things.

  Attu motioned with his head and rose to walk back to his shelter. He needed some time alone to think. His people had been through a lot in the last few days, meeting the Tuktu and fighting the thieves. They wanted to stop thinking about it all for a while. But I can’t. I need to consider what else we should be doing.

  “Can I speak with you?” Kossu asked as Attu moved away from the fire.

  Attu stopped and turned toward the young man. “Ai.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Kossu said. “We have the bows and arrows we took from the thieves, but at least one or two are damaged. And the others got wet in the fight. Who knows how long they’ll last? We need to be able to make these weapons for ourselves. And soon.”

  “We all need to be testing every type of sapling that grows around here until we find the right kind,” Attu agreed.

  “I want to try to make them,” Kossu said. “I’ll search for the right wood, too. I was wondering if there might be the kind of wood I need growing down by the lake...” His voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying. None of the men wanted to talk about the lake. The women had stopped using the fluff and were now digging up moss to line the wetness coverings.

  “You search anywhere you think you might be successful,” Attu said. “Yural is going to speak with the Clan tomorrow about the lake. She’s purified the area, and there’s no reason for us not to go there and use whatever we need from that place.”

  “Good. I was wondering after my mother was telling Trika that-” Kossu stopped suddenly, embarrassed. He glanced at Attu, then away.

  Attu touched Kossu’s shoulder. “I know you’ve explored this area better than any of us. It’s difficult to be grown and ready, but not a hunter yet. It wasn’t that long ago that I was where you are now. But I think of you as a hunter in all but the ceremony. And that will come soon.”

  Kossu smiled his thanks, and the two walked back toward the shelters.

  “If anyone can make them, Kossu will,” Tingiyok said the next evening as several of the hunters sat around the fire outside Attu’s shelter. Rusik looked pleased with the compliment to his son. “We’ve all brought saplings back from wherever we’ve walked for the last few days. We need to begin carving them. We’ve got to have more weapons equal to what others may have. And we need to learn to use the bows we have.”

  “Meanwhile, Tingiyok says the ice is thick enough on the bay now to try hunting tomorrow,” Rovek said.

  The Elder gave his near toothless grin. “We may not see nuknuk, but surely a seal or two might choose to grace our cooking skins.”

  “We want to go,” Bashoo said, as Rusik nodded.

  “We’re eager to learn this new type of hunting,” Rusik said.

  The group grew quiet for a moment as men’s thoughts returned to the fight and using their spears to kill the thieves. They’d killed many Ravens to escape them, and they’d used their spears then, but this had been different. The Tuktu thieves had been attacking their own people. Attu wasn’t the only hunter who felt that perhaps Toonuk and the other Tuktu were at least partly to blame for having so many rogue men from their Clans. The Tuktu had certainly been arrogant and demeaning of Attu’s people. Perhaps life with the Tuktu became intolerable for some men and leaving was the only way they could resolve the arguments within the Clans. But fighting their own people?

  The whole situation felt wrong to Attu, and killing those thieves had seemed like siding with evil against a greater evil. He felt the whole group’s anticipation of the hunt being snuffed out like a nuknuk lamp as the other men’s minds, like Attu’s, returned to their misgivings about the fight. Attu looked to his father.

  “We are hunters,” Ubantu said, his voice loud in the silence. “I will let no enemy rob me of the joy of being a Nuvik hunter. I will hunt. And I will love the hunt!” He slapped his thigh and popped his lips.

  All around Attu, the men popped their lips and slapped their thighs. Attu grinned and joined in. His father was right.

  When the men had quieted again, Attu spoke. “Suka, stay behind with Soantek and Mantouk. Keanu has seen nothing in her daily flights, and we are keeping watch on any caves in our area. Tingiyok has seen no sign that anyone has used them. But some hunters should remain in camp at all times, just in case. Set up a hide at the edge of camp and practice shooting the arrows at it. Take turns shooting while others carve the wood we’ve gathered to see if any of it’s right for bows.”

  Suka and the other men agreed.

  “Then tomorrow we hunt,” Attu said. “Soon we will be back out on the ice, my brothers. Soon.”

  The others laughed at his old joke.

  A poolik in a nearby shelter let out a lusty cry.

  “And that would be my daughter,” Suka grinned. “Lean of body and large of voice.” He stood and walked away toward the sound.

  “Like her father,” Tingiyok called. Suka paused, laughing, the rest joining in. “May you all find good sleep in the Between this night,” Tingiyok said as he stood and left also.

  The rest of the men headed for their own shelters. As Attu stepped into warmth filled with the smell of wetness coverings, a fierce love and need to protect those he loved overwhelmed him, and his thoughts turned again to the Tuktu thieves, his vision, and all that might still bring evil to his Clan. He opened his spirit to Attuanin. We will fight whoever tries to harm us. No one will be allowed to hurt my people, my Rika, my children. No one. Protect and help us, name spirit of mine, greatest of all the spirits of the deep. Guide me, Attuanin.

  Chapter 9

  “Rusik. Step back from the edge of the hole,” Ubantu said. Rusik looked up, and anger flashed across the man’s face. But he stepped back.

  The man is struggling. It’s hard for a seasoned hunter like Rusik to take direction from another. But he did what was asked of him.

  Attu walked to the man. Rusik was muttering something, but Attu didn’t catch what he said. He ignored whatever the comment was, knowing it was just Rusik’s way of letting out some of his frustration. “If you stand too near the hole, your shadow can alert the nuknuk you are there. Also, the ice near the hole is the most dangerous. It may look solid enough, but there might be cracks underneath, made when we dug out the hole.”

  Rusik nodded his understanding, but said nothing. Satisfied, Attu turned to the other group of men, waiting near the second hole they’d made a few spear throws to the north of the first one. It was odd to have so many hunters surrounding each hole, but the holes were hard to make and this was a teaching hunt.

  Bashoo had proved invaluable during the ice digging. The huge man was incredibly strong. Yet, as Attu and the others explained the process and the inherent dangers in chipping a hole in the ice in the middle of the bay, Bashoo listened. He was as gentle with the ice
digging tools, when needed, as he was with little Brovik.

  With the holes dug, the men waited. Bashoo looked like a large boulder resting beside the hole. Ubantu flicked his eyes, first at Bashoo, then at Attu. Attu gave the brief hunter’s nod. Bashoo would make a great nuknuk hunter, if the hunt so far were any indication. He sat almost as quietly as Ubantu. And Ubantu could sit so still, breathe so quietly, his very spirit seemed to blend with the surroundings. A surfacing nuknuk would have no clue a hunter lurked above the ice.

  Rusik was trying, but the man had difficulty holding still. Attu became convinced Rusik’s furs must itch him constantly. He was always twitching, and twice Attu caught him moving a hand to scratch himself. Attu remembered trying to wear the Seers’ woven grass clothing and feeling like his skin was raw from the constant scraping of the sharp bits. He wondered if Rusik felt the same about the furs.

  Ubantu’s spear leaped from his arm and pierced the hide of a nuknuk before it even got its nose whiskers out of the water. Bashoo’s spear hit the animal from the other side, and the two men dragged the nuknuk up and out of the water, moving away from the hole.

  Rusik leaped up and ran toward the struggling nuknuk.

  “Watch out!” Attu threw out his hand to stop Rusik before he got too close to the still thrashing animal. “Stay out of the way of those tusks.” Attu moved to the side, well out of reach of the nuknuk, and he and Rusik followed Bashoo and Ubantu at a safe distance as the men continued to drag the resisting animal, moving away from the hole and onto solid ice.

  Earlier, Ubantu had explained to both Bashoo and Rusik how to properly honor and kill a nuknuk. As the animal struggled, its lifeblood flowing out onto the ice in a red pool, Bashoo repeated the words Ubantu had taught them. Careful to stay behind the animal and away from its tusks, Bashoo raised his killing stick and hit the nuknuk on the back of the head. The animal died instantly.

  “You did well, Brother,” Ubantu said, pounding Bashoo on the back.

  “You struck first,” Bashoo said.

  “But if I had not, your spear would have taken him,” Ubantu said.