by Kevin Ashman
This beautiful tattooed girl who had imposed herself on their group fascinated the Neanderthal. She had no apparent weapon apart from her skinning knife and earned her share of any killed meat by tending the fires and collecting firewood each night. She was fiercely possessive of her skin shoulder bag allowing it never to leave her side, day or night.
Two fires burnt in the copse, and as they had encountered no prey that day, had to resort to their precious stores from their bags eating dried strips of tough reindeer meat.
Golau sat with Kraiach staring into the flames.
‘We are close, Golau,’ said Kraiach. His command of the Fire-clan’s language had astounded Golau over the last few weeks. ‘We will catch them before it is next dark.’
Golau agreed.
‘Tomorrow, we will spill Baal blood,’ he replied.
‘We should rest first, Golau, we are tired, and they are many.’
‘I cannot wait, Kraiach,’ he said stirring the embers with his knife, ‘every day could mean the death of Little-bear.’
‘The girl is hurt,’ said Kraiach unexpectedly. Golau looked up.
‘What is the matter with her?’ he asked.
‘Ask the girl,’ said Kraiach and stood up to leave.
Golau waited for a few minutes gathering his thoughts. He was still smarting from the loss of face caused when Seren had confronted him back in the valley. He had warned her about the risks, and she had accepted the responsibility, so had no right to need his help. He shook the thoughts from his mind. She was still a member of his clan and the ingrained nature of mutual tribal support kicked in. He walked over to the Neanderthal fire where Seren was applying an ointment to a foot.
‘Kraiach said you are hurt,’ he said abruptly.
‘It is not of your concern,’ she said withdrawing her foot back under her furs.
‘You could slow us down, therefore it is now my concern,’ he said and sat down on the floor. ‘Let me see.’
She stared back unmoving.
‘For once, will you do as you are told woman?’ he said. ‘I am trying to help.’
Slowly, she pushed her feet out from under the furs and Golau withheld a gasp as he saw the state of her feet. Her soles were rubbed raw and covered with broken infected blisters. The skin between her toes was grossly swollen and cracked open, the gaping sores only held together by the dried blood that had coagulated that day. Some of the raw flesh around the toes was turning black and starting to smell and her feet had swollen to twice their size.
‘Why did you not tell me?’ he asked lifting one of her feet.
‘We cannot afford to slow down, Golau,’ she said, ‘I have covered my pain by eating the bark of the Willow.’
‘Will they heal?’
‘I do not know. Perhaps, if I had the right herbs, but they are out of season.’
‘Is there nothing else that you could use?’
‘There is another way,’ she admitted. Her eyes glazed over as she recalled her tutor. ‘From death comes growth,’ she recited with a strange look in her eyes.
‘Speak straight words, woman,’ he said, ‘you are not Shaman yet.’
‘They are the words of my mother,’ she said.
‘You had no mother.’
‘My spirit mother, Nature; she is the mother of us all’ she countered, ‘I will need a corpse of a beast and the rotting stump of a long dead tree that has the tiny creatures of the forest floor crawling within.’
‘What nonsense is this?’ he snapped. ‘You know I do not believe in your magic.’
‘There are many types of magic, Golau,’ she retorted, ‘is not the rising of the sun magic?’ ‘Does not the fact that river waters never run dry magic?’ She paused. ‘Was not the birth of your son magic?’
Golau stared at her long and hard.
‘Ok,’ he said. ‘We will find these foul things and we will treat your injuries.’
‘I will not become your burden,’ she retorted sharply.
‘You will be no burden, Seren,’ he said standing up, ‘we will treat your injuries, and we will leave you behind.’
Seren looked visibly shocked, but quickly recomposed herself.
‘I do not fear, Golau,’ she said, ‘my mother will provide.’
‘We will see,’ he said. ‘One more thing, on pain of death, know this. You will never speak of my son just to prove your own worth again,’ he snarled. ‘Never!’
----
Chapter 20
Three weeks had passed since Sky had watched the strange hunting party leave the valley and the clan had wasted no time in addressing their precarious situation. Ceffyl and Sky had spent most evenings discussing the clan’s future prospects and the chief had immediately mobilized every member of the clan to gather food and wood for the cave. The Fire-clan were nothing, if not survivors, and they worked from dawn till dusk catching whatever prey they could from the surrounding area, and smoking any surplus over their fires to last them over last few weeks of the winter. The few experienced remaining hunters spent exhausting days away trying to hunt the few large mammals left in the area, but with the exception of one large buck deer they had managed to steal from a wolf pack, their successes were limited to snared rabbits and the occasional forest pig. Rations were small, but adequate and the spring soon started its gradual assault on the remaining snow.
Sky spent much of her time wandering around the valley pacing out distances, deep in her own thoughts. Some of the women grumbled at the apparent lack of contribution from the girl, often passing sarcastic comments about the time she spent messing about in rock pools, but despite their barbed comments, Sky refused to expand on her purpose. Ceffyl was patient with her as she developed her ideas, and finally one evening, she came to him as he ate his meagre meal at the communal campfire.
‘Ceffyl,’ she said, ‘I am ready. I will need the help of the clan for two days, perhaps three.’
The new chief swallowed the piece of meat he was chewing and took a drink from a water gourd.
‘Are you sure this will work, Sky?’
She hesitated.
‘I cannot be sure, Ceffyl,’ she said, ‘but I see no reason why not.’
‘I know of no other clan to try these ways, Sky, but you have Golau’s support and I trust his judgment. I will give you the clan for two days, but no more.’
Sky nodded and retired to her bed skins. Tomorrow would be an eventful day.
----
Long before the sun had arisen the next day, the whole clan gathered at the river where it joined the sea, and Ceffyl addressed the gathered people.
‘Fire-clan, hear me,’ he announced, ‘these are hard times. We have faced hardships before, and though many of our people have died in the process, we have prevailed by working together. Still, hard times have returned over and over again. This cannot continue. Too many tears fall at our hearths. As your new chief, I have decided to try new ways to stop the cycle and bring growth and safety to our clan. Today and perhaps tomorrow, you will take direction from Sky. The task will be strange, but if this works, it will help to provide food for our children and our old, long into the foreseeable future. Heed her words and work hard.’
The clan were quiet but no dissent was forthcoming.
‘What is this strange task?’ asked Neifion.
‘I will let Sky explain,’ he answered and looked over at the nervous girl.
Sky stepped forward. She had been so confident yesterday but now the time was here she had serious doubts. All those present looked at her expectantly.
‘We will build a trap,’ she started nervously.
‘Speak up, Sky,’ said Ceffyl quietly, so only she could hear, ‘you need to command their attention and respect.’
Sky coughed and started again.
‘We are to build a trap;’ she said loudly, ‘one that will hopefully refill itself every day and give us fresh meat as long as we need it.’ She now had their full and undivided attention. Food was always an issue.
/> ‘But there are no animals in this valley to catch,’ pointed out Alid.
‘Actually, there are thousands, Alid’ she replied with a smile, ‘and more come every day.’
Alid looked around for these mythical beasts.
‘Where?’ asked Neifion. ‘We have seen only rabbit and the occasional fox. Surely, the hunters should know.’
Sky turned and paused for effect.
‘There,’ she announced and pointed at the swollen tidal estuary that lay before her.
‘Fish,’ the murmur came from several mouths simultaneously and understanding rippling around the gathered people.
‘We already catch fish from the sea, Sky.’ said a doubting female voice, ‘the young boys pull them in on the lines and in the nets.’
‘Only sometimes,’ said Sky, ‘often they go for days without a catch, and even when they are successful, there is only enough for one or two people.’
‘But our nets are too small and we are too few’ said Fox-tooth, ‘anyway, we know not the ways of the sea fish, they are different to those in the streams of the forest.’
‘The waters are too deep,’ shouted another female voice from the gathered clan, ‘we would surely drown.’
‘I have studied both the fish and the waters for many days,’ said Sky. ‘Each day the sea invades the land and the waters rush up the river, making it deeper than the head of the tallest hunter. Yet, the waters always retreat back down to the sea and what is left is shallow enough to wade across. This happens twice a day, every day.’
The group were silent hanging on her every word.
‘When the waters are at their fullest,’ she continued, ‘many fish swim upstream to feed beneath the plants hanging at the river’s edge. We do not see these, as the waters are too muddy, but trust me they are there. Alid and I caught one only yesterday with his three pronged spear, isn’t that right, Alid?’
Alid nodded enthusiastically, his grin broadcasting his pride that he had been acknowledged in public. Sky continued.
‘When the floods recede, these fish travel back down the river to the great waters. It is my intention to catch them before they reach their homes.’
‘Explain how!’ ordered Ceffyl.
----
Over the next half hour, as they waited for the tidal waters to recede, Sky explained her plan. For weeks, she had spent many hours at the water’s edge and in the surrounding pools. Soon she had noticed that the river’s mouth filled twice a day with tidal sea water, and she realized that if the water was allowed to recede, but some sort of barrier retained the fish, they could be easily harvested when the water was low. Over past few days, she practiced the effectiveness of her ideas on a smaller scale in rock pools and small rivulets until eventually she finalized her design.
A dam of stones would be built on the river bed, shaped like a funnel with its narrow end upstream. Twice a day the fish would be propelled upstream by the rising tide and through the neck of the funnel in the centre of the river. When the tide went out, the fish would travel back down the river and along the river banks only to be caught against the wedge formed between wall and bank. In theory, when all the water had receded through the natural small gaps in the wall the larger fish should be trapped in the shallow water and easily harvested. The gathered people were silent as they digested the information.
‘We are hunters, Sky,’ said Neifion, ‘we have always been, and it will always be so. My spear craves the blood of the beasts and I will not grow old spearing fish.’
‘I do not ask you to change, Neifion,’ she replied, ‘I only need your strength to build the walls. Our arms are too weak to carry the rocks needed.’
‘And when it is finished?’
‘When it is built, the women will harvest the fish. The men will be free to dance around the forests as normal.’
The rest of the women sniggered at the thinly veiled insult.
‘What will we do with all this fish?’ asked Mon-du. ‘If it works we will be sick of it, and the cave will smell like the rotting corpse of the Morfil that earned Alid his name.’
Some ironic laughs came from the clan as they remembered the stink the whale had caused after a few days in the warm sun.
‘That is the beauty of this;’ said Sky warming to her subject ‘we will only take what we need. Those fish we leave will still live in the waters as they are refilled every day and even if they escape over the wall when the river is full, other fish will take their place. After all, fish are stupid.’
Solemn agreement was heard around the group. Everyone knew that fish were stupid. Sky continued to answer questions from the gathering until eventually all were quiet. Eventually, she turned to Ceffyl.
‘Well,’ she said, ‘what do you think?’
The clan stared at Ceffyl. Over the weeks, he had grown in stature and now commanded their respect. His word was law now, and whatever he decided was final.
‘What I think, Sky, is that the water is now low and we have a mountain of rocks to move.’ He smiled. ‘Lucky for you I like fish.’
Decision made, the elder hunters quickly took charge and under her guidance Sky saw the start of her fish trap begin to take shape within the hour. She walked quickly back up the valley. There was so much still to do.
----
Tan lay semi-prone on his bed skins when the clan returned at dusk. Keera sat close, mopping his brow as he lay gasping to draw breath. He feebly pushed away her attempts to feed the soft pre-chewed fat between his dry lips. Ceffyl approached the sick bed.
‘How is he?’ he asked, sitting next to the old woman. She looked at him and gently shook her head.
‘I fear he will not last the night. The clan should bring their gifts before it is too late.’
Ceffyl nodded and passed on the information. Those who, for whatever reason knew they were about to die, whether through wound, illness or old age were much revered by the clan, as they were able to carry messages to the clan’s loved ones who had already passed. These people were buried with great ceremony by the clan, along with gifts of beads, food, weapons and animal trophies, all placed in their graves to take to the afterlife.
As was their way, over the next few hours, each adult member of the clan spent some time with the dying old man passing on messages, and leaving their gifts. When they were done, they sat back at their own beds watching in silence as their much loved and revered chief started his final great journey.
Once again, the sun’s first searching rays had started to explore the horizon when a heart-wrenching wail reverberated around the cave. Keera watched the man she loved as he drew his last breath and sobbing violently, she held his body close to hers as he passed. Despite Tan and Keera thinking differently, the unseemly contact and closeness between slave and chief had not been lost on the tribe for many years.
The hunters stood and slowly started banging the hafts of their spears in unison on the cave floor the pulsating rhythm reverberating around the cave. As the other women joined in the mourning cry for the great man, the intense emotion of the moment was far too much for Sky and she ran sobbing from the cave to the valley following the river downstream.
----
Back in the cave, some of the women eased Keera from Tan’s corpse and led her away, while others brought the prepared clothes for Tan’s journey to the sun. Stripping his body naked, they gently washed his old yellow skin with stoat furs dipped in bowls of scented water. Soft calf skin leggings edged with shining beads were placed on his legs and his upper body dressed with a new tunic frilled with the blue wing feathers of numerous jays. Mole skin slippers were placed on his feet and his face was decorated with dramatic designs in vivid colours as became a chief of his stature.
Finally, he was wrapped in his hunting cloak, the skin of the giant Sabre-tooth that he had killed as a young man. He looked impressive in his finery and they were satisfied that the Sun-god would know him as a great chief when he arrived, surely giving him an honoured place at his hearth.
/>
Keera cried quietly in the darkness, comforted by Ffion, a young girl slightly younger than Sky. Eventually, she fell asleep on the furs, exhausted in her grief after the long night watching her chief die. As the rest of the clan started preparations for the chief’s burial ceremony, Ffion left the cave to find Sky. She found her on the bank of the river near the trap they had made the day before. She sat down alongside Sky silently, placing her arms around the older girl’s shoulders.
‘You must be strong, Sky,’ she said gently, ‘we will get through this.’
‘When will it end, Ffion?’ came the tearful reply. ‘Surely this clan is cursed. First, Bran was killed, and then the Baal took Raven and the others, and now the chief has taken the final path. How many more must die before this curse is lifted.’
‘I do not know, Sky, but I do know that Ceffyl will make a great leader and he will get us through. When the summer comes, who knows what the new warmth will bring. Hopefully we can attend the gathering. We haven’t been for many years. Perhaps you will even be married!’
‘No, that will not happen Ffion,’ she replied as her friend wiped her nose.
‘Nonsense, you will be snapped up. You are the prettiest of us all’ she contradicted her friend, fussing gently with her hair.
‘No, you do not understand,’ she paused, ‘I am already promised.’
Ffion stopped and looked at Sky in astonishment.
‘Promised?’
‘You must tell no one, Ffion,’ she said earnestly, ‘it was Tan’s last wish. I am promised to Golau.’
‘But he’s so old, how can this be?’ she blurted and Sky giggled through her tears wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
‘I wouldn’t say old, Ffion; he only has twenty five summers.’
‘That is still eight more than you, Sky, and he has a child to care for.’ She left the sentence unfinished, remembering that the Baal had taken Little-bear. There were a few minutes of awkward silence as they both remembered the tragedy.
‘Anyway,’ continued Ffion eventually, ‘surely, now Tan has died, this promise does not stand.’
