by Kevin Ashman
‘He is happy now, Sky,’ she said, ‘he rides the auroch through fields of plenty in the Sun-god’s land. He hunts…’ The sentence went unfinished as Sky threw the basket across the cave.
‘Enough!’ she shouted angrily through her tears and tore herself from her mother’s embrace.
‘Those are just words,’ she sobbed, ‘he is not here, he is dead!’
Raven tried to compose herself
‘He is in a warm place and…’ Again she was interrupted by her daughter.
‘I don’t care!’ she shouted, drawing sympathetic looks from the other hearths in the cave, ‘I want him here with me!’ Again, Sky convulsed in tears and fell into her mother’s comforting arms. Drawn by the woman’s scream, a hunter came quickly into the cave, and after a quick look and a quiet word at another hearth, he returned to his post outside the cave. It was not of his concern. It was women’s business.
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Even though the telltale signs of the dawn were held at bay by the twisting tunnel and the Reindeer skin curtains, the body clocks of the people ensured the cave was a hive of activity as the sky lightened outside. Family groups broke their fasts with dried meat and berries, while others saw to their toilet outside and away from the cave entrance. Keera busied herself with the larger clan fire, ensuring it was relit after the night’s inattention.
The children were excited and the mood was good. Today many of them, for the first time, would see the great water they had heard about. When all of them were ready, the clan, led by Gafr and Ceffyl, filed down from the cave entrance to go to the shore, half an hour’s walk from the cave. Tan, Keera, and some of the older tribe members who had seen it all before watched them go. Two of the younger unnamed hunters remained to guard either side of the entrance. They were chewing nonchalantly on the remains of a fox that had unwittingly come too close in the gloom of the new day’s first light.
The clan followed the river downstream, chatting happily amongst themselves, though always keeping a keen eye open for any forage opportunities as they walked. The children ran forward, eager to be the first to see the big water, while Sky walked with Fox-tooth, smiling at the antics of Little-bear as he threw his toy spear at imaginary Mammoths in the crisp autumn morning air.
Suddenly, Sky looked up at a commotion to her front. Voices were raised and one child ran crying to her parent’s arms. Hunters barked orders and the clan women gathered in the children quickly, shattering the holiday mood of the clan. Fox-tooth quickly retrieved Little-bear whist Sky ran forward to see what the excitement was all about.
Alid stood in front of two of the hunters, visibly shaken and trying to catch his breath after a long run. Gafr stood, waiting patiently for the boy to gather his wits. Alid looked around, suddenly aware of his elevation and importance. He took a deep breath and stood straight, as a hunter would do.
‘Gafr Long-hunt,’ he stated, ‘I see you.’
Gafr, slightly taken aback at the formality of the boy, played along.
‘I see you, Alid, speak your words,’ he replied, affecting a semi-formal tone.
Alid glanced around; aware he had the attention of almost all the clan.
‘I, Alid of the Fire-clan, have hunted a great beast,’ he said.
‘I see no kill,’ Replied Gafr
‘It is not dead, Gafr,’ Alid continued, ‘it is a monster that cannot be killed, a beast that is bigger than the largest Mammoth.’
Gafr considered Alid’s words. He was a simple-minded boy and though well liked in the clan, he was often teased and bullied by the other youths, not least because of his obsession with Mammoths.
‘And have you ever seen Mammoth?’ asked Gafr with a twinkle in his eye.
Some of the women sniggered and the tension eased in the clan.
‘Not yet, Gafr,’ Alid said, ‘but one day, I will stand alone against the beast and earn my name.’
‘So, what beast is this that can stand alongside the Mammoth?’ Afon asked, ‘Auroch, Rhino, Buffalo?’
Alid paused, realizing his next words were going to earn him even more ridicule.
‘No, it is not of the land, but the water.’
‘Ahh, a Hippo bigger than the great tusked one,’ Gafr laughed so all the clan could here.
‘It’s not a Hippo!’ shouted Alid over the laughter, ‘it’s a fish!’
The clan erupted into laughter at the absurdity, but Gafr, realizing the boy believed his own words, gradually stopped. It was not good to humiliate a young man, even one with no name.
‘Show me this beast, Alid,’ he said, ‘and if you speak true, you will sit at my spear hand at the next feast.’
Alid perked up and ran up a nearby slope shouting as he went.
‘Follow me; it lies at the water’s edge.’
Gafr and the hunters walked briskly after Alid, closely followed by the rest of the clan, keen to see what had stirred the boy to such a flight of fancy. They crossed the fast flowing estuary where the fresh water mingled with the salt of the sea, constantly beckoned by Alid, encouraging them to greater speed, relishing his newly found importance as leader of the whole clan. Reaching the top of a grass covered sand dune, he stopped and pointed down into the bay.
‘Hear me in my truth, Fire-clan,’ he shouted, ‘see the beast!’
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Gafr stood alongside Alid, stunned at the sight before him. Down in the bay, the white tipped waves that normally raced to beat against the shore and replenishing the ever-needy rock pools were cut short in their journey, blocked by the body of the biggest animal he had ever seen. Alid had told the truth. Despite his unbelieving eyes, the body of a giant fish, larger than many Mammoths lay in the shallows, its giant tail lifting occasionally into the air and splashing heavily down in the shallow water in a vain tired attempt to un-beach itself. The rest of the clan joined Gafr and exclaimed their astonishment at the sight below. There were many strange and dangerous things in this savage land, but no one had ever heard of such a thing.
Gafr sent a hunter back to the cave to bring Tan. His wisdom was needed. In the meantime, all the hunters walked slowly down to the shore, spears poised, for they knew not what this beast could do. The rest of the clan sat nervously on the sloping cliff, eager to witness the drama that was unfolding before their eyes.
By the time Tan arrived on his tired legs, accompanied by Keera and Golau, the clan had descended to the shore and formed a large semi-circle around the head of the beast. It had soon become apparent that the giant fish was as helpless out of water as the multi-colour trout they had trapped many suns earlier. The crowd was transfixed at the giant intelligent eye that watched the people and fascinated by the air it breathed out of the hole in its head.
Gafr approached closer and jabbed the point of his spear into the flesh of the beast’s side, causing a wild thrashing of its giant tail as the beast again tried to return to the safety of the water.
Tan and Keera walked through the scattered cordon and stared at the giant fish. Keera stopped while Tan walked slowly right up to the beast’s head. Placing both hands on the beast’s skin he looked deep onto the eye of the whale.
‘Morfil!’ he whispered.
The clan was silent as the old warrior leaned his white haired head against the beast. After a few moments, he turned and addressed the clan.
‘Hear my words, Fire-clan,’ he began, ‘I have heard of such a beast at my father’s knee. It is Morfil, God of the great water. Many times he is seen out in the deep waters, but never has he come to our lands.’
Golau approached and spoke quietly in Tan’s ear. For a few moments, the conversation went back and forth, unheard by the rest of the clan, though the glances aimed toward Alid and the beached whale did not go unnoticed by the hunters. Eventually, Tan nodded agreement and Golau unwrapped a long, deer hide package he had brought from the cave. Picking up the contents, he walked solemnly through the back of the clan to the centre of the semicircle facing Tan, and planted the butt of the Hell-farch, a g
iant blood stained spear into a patch of wet sand at Tan’s feet.
The spear was larger than the tallest hunter and the thickness of a man’s arm. The long shaft was made from hardened oak, with a glazed bloody sheen covering three quarters of its length. The razor sharp blade was larger than any had ever seen and was made from an unknown material and light blue in colour.
Stories were told of how the blade had fallen red hot from the sky in the time of the ancestors, and shattered on impact, leaving a giant arrowhead shaped shard that never dulled and could not be shaped with flint or bone. Others said that it was broken from a cliff of the same strange blue material by one of the ancestors and was shaped by the fires of the afterlife. In truth, no one actually knew where it came from, though all agreed it was very, very old, and very, very sacred.
‘Who found the beast?’ barked Tan, already knowing the answer.
Alid shuffled nervously forward of the clan.
‘Are you ready to earn your name, Alid of the Fire-clan,’ asked Tan.
The crowd gasped at the implication. It had long been accepted that Alid was unlikely to ever kill one of the Rheibwr to earn his name, but Golau had identified an opportunity for this well liked, yet backward boy to gain some merit in the clan. Suddenly self-conscious at being the centre of attention, Alid looked around at the watching eyes of the people.
‘Go on Alid!’ shouted another boy of the same age.
‘Well?’ asked Tan quietly, a twinkle in his eye. ‘This is your chance, boy. Surely, no hunter has ever killed such a beast before!’
Alid gulped and stared at the beast, not knowing how he was supposed to kill such a thing. Golau walked forward and whispered in his ear. After a minute, Alid nodded and stepped forward.
‘I am ready, Tan Long-tooth,’ he responded and walked forward to receive the killing spear from the clan leader.
‘Strike true, Alid of the Fire-clan,’ stated Tan quietly ‘you are about to slay a God!’
Alid plucked the heavy spear from the wet sand and lowered it onto his shoulder. He felt the slick surface, made smooth by generations of killing hands and hundreds of beast’s life blood. He walked slowly forward to the whale who met his nervous look with his own sad gaze. Golau had followed and stood behind him to the rear of the levelled spear.
Alid knew his whole life revolved on this moment. He had to strike true and kill this beast. If he was successful, he would be given his name, but if he failed he would teased even more by the boys of the clan. He paused before the giant animal and looked along the enormous length of the beast’s body. The clan fell silent and watched in fascination.
‘Forgive me, Morfil,’ he said quietly and with every ounce of strength, stretching every muscle and sinew in his young body, drove the killing spear deep into the whales deep blue eye, screaming to give him extra strength. As engrossed as he was, he was unaware of Golau pushing at the base of the Hell-farch, helping Alid’s relatively weak and puny arms to drive the spear home.
The Whale thrashed violently in a last desperate effort to escape, but the damage was done. Its efforts grew weaker and Alid fell backwards to the sand in shock, as he watched his beast die in screaming, bloody agony.
Alid became aware that someone was helping him to his feet. The seconds since the threshing had ceased seemed like a lifetime ago. Golau grabbed the young boy’s face between his hands and forced Alid to look at him.
‘It is over, Alid,’ he said, ‘Morfil is dead. Wipe your face and take your name!’
Alid realized the clan was shouting and cheering in excitement and admiration. He had tears on his cheeks and hurriedly wiped them away with his sleeve along with the snot from his running nose. Helped by Golau, he retrieved the spear from the bloody eye socket, and rejoined the semi-circle of the clan.
Alid walked slowly toward Tan and offered the spear to the chief. His head was spinning. It was all happening so quickly.
‘I give you my kill, great chief’ he said shakily.
Tan took the spear, turned to the Clan, and raising his voice, addressed them formally.
‘Hear me, Fire-clan,’ he shouted. ‘This day you have witnessed a hunter earn his name. From this day forward he will be known as Alid of the Morfil.’ He turned to Alid.
‘Greet your clan, hunter.’
Alid turned to the clan, self-consciously and cleared his throat nervously. He took a deep breath.
‘I see you, Fire-clan.’ he shouted
‘We see you, Alid of the Morfil’ shouted every clan member and the cheering, clapping and laughter started up again.
Alid sang the name in his head over and over again. It was a great name. His story would be told for all time around the fires. He was now a hunter. It was a good day, no, it was the best day.
Tan watched Alid’s eyes closely, recognizing the signs, and quickly called Golau to take him away from the clan. It would not be good for a new hunter to pass out in front of the people, even a runt such as Alid. Inwardly smiling he turned to the clan.
‘What are you waiting for, Fire-clan? Morfil has honoured us, and his flesh will feed our children on many cold nights.’
Women and men alike descended on the whale’s carcass, wondering where and how they should wield their flint knives to start butchering the unfamiliar beast. Tan and Keera walked back up the beach to return to the cave, conveniently ignoring a newly named young hunter as he emptied his breakfast onto the sandy dunes.
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Chapter 11
It was almost dark when Kraiach approached the hunter’s camp. The animal-skin caves had gone, and the others had moved downstream, following the water toward the place where the sun slept each night. For the next hour, Kraiach wandered through the old site, stopping and examining bits and pieces left by the others; a broken arrowhead here, a dropped bead there. All were picked up, examined, smelt, tasted or shaken. Useful items were placed in his pouch, whilst others were discarded. He scratched at a disturbed patch of soil near their now cold fire place, intrigued at the burnt meat smell that was diffused through the soft sand.
Kraiach squatted and filtered the myriad of pictures that formulated his thought process. He needed to know, the pull was too strong. Absently, he cut the still steaming heart from the hyenas young corpse at his feet, his hunting spear now pinning it to the ground, and taking a bite, he stood and followed the trail of the long gone others. Fifteen miles away, a group of wraithlike figures stirred from their inactivity and rose, knowing only that they were following Kraiach and headed toward the setting sun.
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Kraiach and his tribe floated unseen through a dense forest that lay before a line of high mountains dividing the land from the sea. Branches bent silently and unbroken before gentle hands, and undergrowth sank beneath heavy footfall with minimal noise. They were in no rush; this was their lifestyle. They knew not where they were going, but Kraiach led, so it must be.
The river they were following divided into two and they followed the smaller branch as it trickled into the darkest depths of the forest, before disappearing into a sink hole. The tribe removed their warm skins and, one by one, stepped into the stream, following the current into the hole in the ground.
Kraiach waded into the water-filled gloom, the rivulet deepening as the passage narrowed, and as the water reached his waist, he raised his furs and spear above his head, clear of the numbing chill of the river. After a few paces, the tunnel opened out and his sharp night vision picked out a ledge at the far side of a small lagoon. Moving slowly forward he threw his possessions onto the dark bank and turned to the body behind him, forming the head of a naked chain of muscle as they passed possessions and children overhead from strong arm to strong arm and placing them safe onto the far side of the lagoon.
Faint green light filtered down the tunnel from the forest, reflecting off the still water, the eerie glow providing enough illumination to unveil the detail of the cavern to the tribe. They wrapped themselves in their skins to regain warmth and sat
for a long time, gazing at the natural cavern and the slate smooth surface of the lagoon. At the far edge, the sound of falling water hinted at the lagoon’s ultimate fate as it spilt over a precipice into the darkness. Stalactites hung from the roof, and giant bats clung to the roots of the trees from the wooded hill above, an unexpected source of potential food for the tribe.
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Skin bags were opened and hardwood twigs spun rapidly against softwood bases until eventually the smouldering dust was coaxed gently into tiny flames. Shallow wooden bowls filled with animal fat and Goat’s hair wicks, flickered reluctantly into life, sharing their blue light with the caves incumbent green glow. Meat was produced, and after eating a meagre meal, they extinguished their lamps, curled up in their furs and slept deeply, safe in their new sanctuary.
The tribe slept at the subterranean water’s edge as Kraiach walked into the gloom at the rear of the cave. The ledge gave way to a long soil covered area of cave that stretched farther than his eyes could see in the darkness and eventually sloped upwards to meet the cavern roof thirty paces further in. For light, he held a blue lamp as he examined the strange place, for though he had known about this cave, they had never been here before. At one side of the cavern, the rising soil floor suddenly dipped away again forming a large bowl shaped indentation before it rose again to meet the rear wall. Turning to walk back to the tribe, something caught his eye on the wall, and he walked down into the depression raising his gently spluttering blue lamp above his head to see.
Those of the tribe that had been asleep jumped up, terrified at the primeval roar that reverberated around the dark cave, and the males formed a defensive line of stone spearheads, facing into the shadows. Slowly, the noise subsided and silence settled onto the tribe like a heavy animal skin. Brola, the next strongest male, sensed that Kraiach was up there in the dark, and as his night vision returned, he could see a faint blue glow, hidden behind a fold in the cave floor.
‘Kraiach!’ he shouted nervously in the darkness, making the others jump. A few moments passed, and the call was repeated, even louder. ‘Kraiach!’
