Savage Eden

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘He is alive,’ he shouted and they doubled their efforts, eventually drawing Afon from the collapsed snow hole. Afon, though freezing, managed to sit up watching his rescuers as they frantically tried to release Gafr. In a few moments, Gafr too was hauled free, but lay unmoving on the snow.

  ‘He is still breathing,’ said Golau, ‘Gafr wake up!’ he shouted, shaking his shoulders with no response.

  ‘The cold has a hold on him, we need fire,’ he said.

  ‘I have sent Brola and Aarnoy for wood, said Kraiach, ‘but it will be difficult to find under the snows. There is not enough time,’ Kraiach stood up and started to remove his heavy cape.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Golau.

  ‘There is not enough time to wait for fire, undress him.’

  Not knowing why, Golau did as he was told and undressed Afon from his frozen cape and tunic as quickly as his numb fingers would allow. Kraiach stood naked on the glistening snow field, his muscular body covered in a layer of thick ginger hair from neck to ankle.

  ‘Lift him,’ he said, ‘quickly there is little time,’ and bent down to help Golau lift Gafr to his feet. Kraiach enveloped the unconscious hunter in his giant muscular arms, holding him tightly against his naked body.

  ‘Wrap us with my cape,’ he said.

  ‘What are you doing?’ asked Golau.

  ‘Do you want him to die?’ shouted Kraiach. ‘Quickly, do as I ask or there will be one less spear to kill the Baal.’

  Without any further prompting, Golau threw Kraiach’s very heavy winter cape back around the shoulders of the Neanderthal and his freezing captive. As soon as the cape was tied, Kraiach started to pace quickly, sometimes on the spot, sometimes forming a path in the snow as he quickly and rhythmically paced to and fro chanting strange words in time with his hard breathing.

  Back and fore he walked, holding his unconscious captive close to his own torso, all the time generating valuable body heat from his massive frame, heat that transferred directly into Gafr through skin contact, eventually raising his body core temperature back up from critical. Golau and Afon watched, amazed at the strength of the Neanderthal as he supported the dead weight, all the time exercising violently and they gazed fascinated as the transferred body heat slowly brought Gafr back from the brink of death.

  Kraiach stopped and stared into Gafr’s slowly opening eyes, grinning at the dawning horror on the hunter’s face as Gafr focused on the strange features of a Neanderthal for the first time in his life.

  ‘Aaarrgh!’ he screamed much to Kraiach’s amusement and struggled frantically to escape the giant’s embrace.

  ‘Gafr calm down,’ shouted Golau, ‘Kraiach is a friend; he has brought you back from death.’

  Kraiach leered into Gafr’s face, amused at the hunter’s reaction. Gafr leant backward to get away from the creatures grinning stare.

  ‘Let me go,’ he stammered and again struggled to escape Kraiach’s powerful grasp. Golau approached to undo the cape around the pair and stopped, looking at Gafr with amusement.

  ‘You make a fine pair, you two,’ he said, ‘perhaps you should set up a hearth together.’

  ‘Don’t worry, little one,’ said Kraiach, ‘even Mwrllwch women are prettier than you.’

  ‘Golau,’ Gafr screamed, ‘get me out.’

  Golau and Kraiach burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation and even the shivering Afon managed a smile as they let Gafr loose.

  Half an hour later, the two freed hunters huddled around the fire created by the returned Neanderthal. Staring at their new colleagues in fascination, they ate sparingly on the reheated dried meat strips offered them, the warmth being transferred quickly to their core, while their bodies soaked up the suns warmth giving rays from the clear winter skies.

  When they were stronger, Golau briefly explained the events of the last few weeks and the role the Neanderthal had assumed in the clan’s existence.

  ‘It was they who found you,’ admitted Golau.

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know. We don’t understand many things about them. We were following your trail and but for Kraiach, would have passed. He led us to where you were buried. Just in time it seems.’

  ‘We owe them our lives,’ said Afon

  ‘You do.’

  They looked over to the three sleeping bodies, curled up in their vast winter capes. It seemed to Golau that they could sleep anywhere.

  ‘Now you must tell me, Afon,’ said Golau, ‘what have you learned about the Baal?’

  Emphasizing their great numbers, Afon repeated what he knew and he described how they had watched them over the past few weeks. Golau listened quietly.

  ‘Did you see our people?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Occasionally, but the prisoners are many.’

  ‘Did you see Little-bear?’

  ‘I saw him once. He was with Raven-hair.’

  ‘He is still alive; I thought maybe he was…’ The thought went unspoken.

  ‘They are keeping the prisoners alive, Golau,’ said Afon, ‘they hunt the beasts as we do and are feeding the prisoners as they go. They must want them for another reason.’

  ‘Perhaps, but it gives us more time to plan their escape.’

  ‘I can’t see how this can be done, Golau. There are too many Baal.’

  ‘This may be true, but it can also be their weakness. They may grow complacent. We must be patient. The first thing we must do is find where they are.’

  ‘They are no more than two days away Golau,’ he said. ‘Surely you crossed their trail.’

  ‘The trail is buried far below the fresh snow,’ he answered. ‘As soon as you are strong we will continue north. A group as large as this cannot remain undetected for long.’

  They stayed a day on the plain and the two hunters recovered quickly. At first light, they started out again on their pursuit, led by the Neanderthal striding forward, their gaze constantly searching the horizon. By midday, the group had stopped. A line on the horizon had gradually increased as they walked, slowly gaining definition as they got closer. They stood silently, gazing in awe at the phenomenon. To their front from horizon to horizon lay a high vertical ridge of ice a hundred metres high, an insurmountable obstacle in their path.

  Even at this distance, they could see it was huge and though the ridge line looked level, as they got closer it became apparent it was made up of hills and valleys, peaks and troughs. Its giant face was vertical and scarred with pockmarks of soil, rocks and trees that occasionally fell crashing to its base after being carried for hundreds of miles since being torn from the ground by the giant crawling glacier.

  Eventually, they stood within a few hundred yards of the glacial face. The air was full of groans, creaks, and the occasional fall of debris, as the ice sheet crawled inexorably forward on its long journey southward, as it had for millennia. They stared upward at the summit far above their heads.

  ‘They cannot have climbed this,’ said Golau looking around, ‘there must be another way up. We will split into two groups and go in either direction. If we move quickly, we should pick up their trail before nightfall. We will meet again here at dawn and share our news.’ The groups agreed and, after splitting into their two respective species, trotted away in different directions at the base of the glacier.

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  Chapter 22

  Neifion, Ceffyl, and the rest of the males had worked throughout the previous day preparing Tan Long-tooth’s final resting place. They had found a small cleft in the rock face on a sea facing cliff and had spent all day digging a shallow pit in the hard clay floor of the natural depression.

  Yet again, the remnants of the Fire-clan gathered in the pre-dawn light to pay their respects to someone about to embark on the final journey. Tan’s body, dressed in his best finery, was curled in a foetal position at the bottom of the pit along with the gifts of his people. His favourite hunting bow, the finest arrows and his well-used spear lay alongside his body along with meat, wat
er and fruits for the journey.

  Once again, the ceremonial words were recited, this time by Ceffyl, and though the drama and ceremony failed to reach the heights it had when the fires had consumed their brethren all those weeks ago, the sadness was deep and hurtful. Ceffyl brought the ceremony to a close and all helped to fill the pit with soil and rocks, saying goodbye to Tan for the last time. When it was finished, Ceffyl turned to the men of the clan.

  ‘Bring more stones,’ he ordered, ‘this grave does not befit a man of his stature. He was a giant amongst us and he deserves a fitting memorial. We will build a cairn above his body so all who pass know that here lays a great leader.’

  ‘How high shall it,’ be asked Neifion.

  Ceffyl paused and taking the Hell-farch, drove its point into the soil.

  ‘As high as this!’ he said and strode off toward the caves.

  The men solemnly set about their task, the end of the great tribal killing spear swaying gently in the sea breeze more than two feet higher than any of their heads. As they walked back to the valley, Ceffyl called out to Sky. The teenager ran forward and caught up with the chief and walked alongside, struggling to match his pace.

  ‘I am here,’ she gasped, catching her breath.

  ‘I have heard that your dam works well,’ he said without breaking his stride or changing his focus.

  ‘It does,’ she replied. ‘On each tide the fish fight to escape, but the walls stop their path.’

  ‘So much success and yet I have still not smelled the flesh of the Pysgod roasting on any fire in the cavern. Where are these imaginary fish, Sky?’

  Sky looked confused.

  ‘We have not collected any yet, Ceffyl,’ she said, ‘the time was not right. Tan had died and I thought it was not respectful to concentrate on fish when we were all paying him our respects.’

  Ceffyl came to a standstill and turned to meet her eyes.

  ‘And when will the time be right? When our children cry in the night because the hungry beast gnaws at their empty bellies?’

  ‘No, but I thought....’

  ‘Tan has left me an impossible task, Sky,’ he interrupted. ‘Because we have few hunters, we are stuck in this valley and meat is scarce. All our efforts must now concentrate on feeding our people until the boys become skilled in the hunt. We cannot afford to miss out on any opportunity to collect food on their behalf. Do you understand?’

  She nodded silently.

  ‘From now on, you will make it your daily task to collect the fish and ensure it is dried correctly and stored. Until our pits are full, you will not waste one day, not for illness, birth or death. Is this clear?’

  ‘Yes, great chief.’

  He resumed his march back to the valley; Sky half running to keep up at his side.

  ‘Use the women and the children to help. I will need the men to find meat; we cannot live by fish alone.’ He got to the crest of a hill and looked down at their valley. ‘The river is high, Sky. If what you say is true, there will be fish in your trap. Tonight you will bring some to my hearth and we will see the strength of your success. I have spoken.’

  Being dismissed, Sky stopped to catch her breath, chastised at her lack of foresight, yet angry that he doubted her words.

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  Later that evening, the clan gathered around the central fire talking quietly about the late chief. Though subdued there was also a quiet buzz of excitement in the air as they had all heard of Ceffyl’s instructions to Sky and they were keen to see the results. Sky had left the cave with Keera, Fox-tooth and Ffion, each carrying a plaited reed basket on their backs. Soon, there was a commotion as the now ever present guard on the entrance called out.

  ‘They have returned.’

  A few moments later, Sky entered the cave and the clan fell silent as it became apparent that she carried no basket. She knelt down before Ceffyl and spoke quietly.

  ‘I have returned from the traps as ordered, great chief.’

  ‘Where is this feast of fish you promised us, Sky?’ he asked quietly. ‘Was the trap not full?’

  ‘It was, Ceffyl,’ she replied, ‘but we have returned only one basket. I have made a great mistake.’ Murmurs of discontent whispered around the fire.

  ‘But one basket can hold many fish,’ shouted Alid over the disappointed talk.

  ‘There is only one,’ answered Sky.

  ‘One fish?’ shouted a voice. ‘So much for feeding us through the winter.’

  Before Sky could respond, a commotion at the entrance caused the clan to focus their attention on the bent forms of Ffion and Fox-tooth as they dragged a basket into the cave. Neifion walked over to the basket.

  ‘I thought you said there was only one’ he said.

  ‘There is only one,’ answered Ffion revelling in the drama, and with a flourish pulled back the wickerwork lid.

  Inside the basket, the huge dead white eyes of the giant perch leered up at the unbelieving hunter. After a pause, he reached in and taking the fish by the gills, he lifted it out of the basket holding it up for everyone to see. Even with arms stretched upward, the tail still lay flat on the cavern floor. The body was wider than Neifion’s and thick with the strong white muscle that hard life in tidal waters formed. Everyone stared at the beast in silence and Sky held her breath, glancing between Keera and Ceffyl.

  ‘It is quite a big fish,’ confirmed Alid quietly, blushing deeply as the clan burst out laughing. The moment broken, the women rushed forward and gathered excitedly around the prize. Ceffyl turned to Sky.

  ‘You have done well, girl,’ he said, ‘but you were false with your words. Why do you play with me?’

  ‘I do not understand, Ceffyl,’ she said frowning.

  ‘You said you made a mistake, and yet you have provided more than I imagined.’

  ‘But I did make a mistake. I thought we could each carry a fish, but our female arms are too small,’ she played to his vanity, ‘and as you can see, we could carry only one.’

  ‘There are more?’ he asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

  ‘I counted three more such as these,’ she said, ‘and smaller fish than I have numbers. They would have filled many baskets.’

  Ceffyl smiled, letting his stern facade fall for a second and he placed his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘You have done well, Sky,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow we will send many hands to collect your fish, but tonight, we will feast on the flesh of the Pysgod and thank the Sun-god for his bounty.’

  Sky silently breathed a sigh of relief and joined the rest of the women, watching with a satisfied smile as they started to gut the giant fish. That night, the clan would eat well.

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  The cave air was heavy with smoke and the smell of dried fish. The past few days had been busy with activity, as the clan had transported basket after basket from the trap to the cave. They had never seen so much food and the stone lined pits in the ground were full of the dried and smoked fish.

  The trap had brought added benefits as it soon became apparent that large crabs also found the structure inviting and started to populate the rock walls, and their flesh, though little in quantity became a welcome delicacy, especially among the children.

  Though the dam needed regular repairing due to the force of the tide, it gradually grew in size and strength as the men reinforced this amazing structure that had the potential to feed their families. The food pits remained full and Sky’s thoughts turned to new projects. She turned her ideas over and over in her head and finally settled on one, approaching Ceffyl once again at his hearth.

  ‘I would speak, great chief,’ she said nervously

  ‘Sit;’ he replied, ‘my mood is good for my belly is full.’

  ‘There is much more I would like to do, Ceffyl;’ she began, ‘the trap is good, but as you wisely pointed out, we cannot live on fish alone.’

  ‘I agree,’ he said, ‘but our young boys will learn the ways of the hunt in the summer and we will bring meat to vary our meals.’


  ‘Even when the herds return, they are difficult to kill,’ she said, ‘Sometimes, even our experienced hunters have to travel many days to find meat. Our young boys will struggle with such hardship and we cannot afford to lose any more to the valley of the sun.’

  ‘This is true, Sky, but I cannot change the ways of the beasts. Ours is a hard life.’

  ‘Why can’t we change their ways, Ceffyl? Our ancestors did. Perhaps we have forgotten some of their ways.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘The dogs,’ she continued, ‘surely they are nothing but Wolves and were brought into our hearths from the forest. If it can be done with them, why can’t it be done with other animals?’

  ‘What is your idea, Sky?’ he asked.

  ‘Instead of us chasing the beasts,’ she replied, ‘let them come to us.’

  Once again, she found herself explaining her strange ideas to Ceffyl, eventually coming to a stop, watching the chief’s eyes in anticipation. Ceffyl stayed silent for a while before continuing.

  ‘You are a strange one, Sky,’ he said quietly. ‘Where do all these thoughts come from that swirl around your head?’

  ‘Too many of our people have died, Ceffyl,’ she said, ‘I don’t want anybody else to go the way of Bran.’ She stopped, staring at the ground so he could not see the moistness in her eyes, ‘He was only a boy.’

  Ceffyl thought for a long time.

  ‘These ways will be difficult for the hunters to understand,’ he said, ‘they will not agree.’

  ‘You are chief,’ she said, ‘they will listen to you.’

  Silence again.

  ‘There is much to consider,’ Ceffyl said eventually. ‘Come back to me tomorrow and we will talk more. Tell no one about this.’ Sky nodded and returned to her hearth.

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  Chapter 23

  Golau, Afon and Gafr had only walked a few hours along the base of the ice cliff before they became aware of one of the Mwrllwch trotting to catch them up. They stopped and walked back the way they had come, soon meeting up with Brola.

  The Neanderthal struggled with their words, so with the use of signs and gestures indicated that they should return in the opposite direction with him. Obviously, Kraiach’s group had found something so they set out again, retracing their steps, finally catching up with the Neanderthal group as it got dark.