Savage Eden

by Kevin Ashman

  ‘Enough talk!’ said Golau. ‘It is time to go.’ With his bloody knife grasped in his equally bloody hand, he walked toward Coeden, and leaning down, cut Coeden’s binds. ‘Pick him up,’ he said and indicated the grisly sack perched on the stone table, ‘And Coeden,’ he said menacingly, ‘treat him gently, for if you drop him, it will be the last thing you do.’

  ‘But he’s dead,’ he said, but left the sentence unfinished as he saw the menace in Golau’s eyes.

  ----

  Golau and Coeden left the cave of the Slorth-baal via the Mammoth valley that Kraiach described before he died. The old man struggled at first with Kraiach’s remains, but limped onward, encouraged by the occasional prod from Golau’s spear

  Golau was disappointed not to see any Mammoth in the valley, though he spent some time examining the footprints left by the beasts, confirming Kraiach’s story. Soon they had left the place of the Mammoth and continued down the exterior flanks of the volcano, before dropping through the cloud line to the warmer region below. Finally, they reached the bottom and found the trail they had been looking for skirting the base of the mountain.

  They spent a cold and uncomfortable night in amongst the boulders, Golau sitting with his back against a rock his spear across his knees whilst Coeden lay at his feet, his arms tied tightly behind his back. The following morning they set out before the sun arose. Coeden grumbled about the weight of the bag, and the fact that they had not eaten since the night before.

  ‘I do not have time to hunt,’ growled Golau, ‘keep moving.’

  ‘There is still some meat left on the bones of your friend,’ ventured Coeden as he walked in front of his captor, ‘it’s no good to him now.’

  Suddenly his head was jerked back exposing his throat as Golau pulled back on his tangled grey hair. The old man felt a flint blade pressed against his throat, his eyes bulging in fear and lips drawn back over the few yellow teeth remaining as he anticipated the killing thrust. Golau spoke quietly into his ear.

  ‘I have no qualms about eating the flesh of any man,’ he said slowly. ‘It won’t be the first time. But know this, traitor; before I ask Kraiach’s spirit to share his strength, I swear that I will feast on your still beating heart. So what is it to be, do we stop to eat or do we continue?’

  Coeden stayed as still as stone as the blade bit slightly into his skin.

  ‘We move on,’ he rasped.

  ‘Good choice,’ said Golau and pushed him forward, stumbling along the path.

  ----

  The afternoon was long gone when they finally stopped to rest. Golau lifted Kraiach’s remains high into the branches of a lone tree and tied Coeden to the trunk while he left him to hunt in the nearby tree line. Though he had no luck with the spear, he found some roots that were edible and returned to Coeden.

  ‘There was a wolf,’ the old man screamed at Golau when he returned, ‘I could have been ripped apart!’

  ‘It’s not the wolf you should be afraid of,’ growled Golau untying his binds, ‘eat, we are nearly there.’ He threw some roots at Coeden’s feet.

  ‘Where are we going?’ asked Coeden for what seemed like the hundredth time

  ‘You will see soon enough,’ came the now familiar answer.

  They ate the cold roots and all too soon for Coeden, Golau made him pick up his burden and start again, but before he had walked a few steps, The hunter stopped him.

  ‘Not that way,’ he said, ‘that way.’ He pointed up the hill.

  ‘Oh no,’ groaned Coeden, ‘why do we have to go up there?’

  ‘You will see,’ he said again.

  ‘How do you know this is the way?’ asked Coeden looking at the thick foliage to his front. ‘There is no path.’

  ‘I know,’ he replied and they started up the hill, Golau glancing one last time at the carving of a small Mammoth cut deep into the trunk of the Giant Oak tree as he passed. By nightfall, they camped exhausted on the same ledge above the cave of the ancestors that Seren and Morlak had shared so many weeks earlier.

  ----

  Chapter 37

  At first, Morlak and the rest of the Neanderthal left behind in the Caldera had managed to hold back their pursuers with their silent Swaden, but soon the Baal realized that despite the pain the arrows gave, this time their warriors did not die and they forced the Mwrllwch back toward the crater walls.

  The Neanderthal used every trick they had learnt during the millennia they had spent in hiding and used the undergrowth and the shadows to their advantage. They flitted between the tree trunks picking off solitary Baal with knife and spear, causing confusion in their swarming numbers, but gradually, even they were forced back to the inner wall of the caldera, and they fought from behind the rocks and boulders of the volcanic rim.

  As darkness fell once more, the pressure eased and the Baal retreated to the forest, their drums beating solidly through the night as they danced around their fires.

  Morlak took stock of the situation. Four of his colleagues had died and three more tended their wounds in the rocky maze at the base of the track that led out of the caldera. They sat in silence and fed on fungi peeled from the damp surrounding rocks.

  ‘Tomorrow we will be overrun,’ he said. ‘Four of our brothers have taken the final path, but they have earned us one more day. We cannot hold them back and I see no reason for us all to die with no gain. Tonight when it is at its darkest, you will crawl between their fires. They will not be expecting us to go that way. Strike at their rear in silence, but as soon as the alarm is raised, cause as much noise as possible before retreating into the forest. There will be confusion and we may gain another hour or two, but you must wait no longer. Make haste to the shallow lake and look for the trail I left from the slopes above. There you will find a way that goes back to the cave of the ancestors. Make sure you are not followed and block the entrance behind you with rock and spoil. Once through, make your way back to the valley of the Two-feet and wait there.’

  ‘What about you, Morlak?’ came a query.

  ‘I will follow Aarnoy over the ice,’ he said, ‘they may have need of my help.’

  As the senior male, they accepted his instruction without question, and prepared for the final act of this deadly encounter.

  ----

  Aarnoy led the group through thigh deep snow, a freezing gale biting at their back, as the winds blew down from the glacier above. They had spent the first night camped amongst the rocks at the base of the volcano and knowing that his colleagues were defending their backs; he allowed fires lit with what little firewood they could find. The scattered rocks had provided shelter from the cold, and the mutual body heat gleaned from beneath shared capes meant the majority made it through a freezing and sleepless night.

  ‘They are tougher than they look,’ said Aarnoy to Shanew, the only other Neanderthal with the group, when they found only three frozen bodies at first light. They assembled the people and set out onto the ice sheet as fast as the atrocious conditions allowed.

  The miserable day dragged on and as they trudged through snow, the maelstrom screaming around their ears, Seren became worried and approached Aarnoy.

  ‘How much farther?’ she screamed from beneath her hood, struggling to be heard above the howling winds. Aarnoy looked up toward the hidden sky and looked at the file of Two-feet trudging by. Even if they kept up this punishing pace, there was no avoiding the fact that they would be spending at least one more night on the ice sheet.

  ‘Tomorrow when the sun is at its highest,’ he shouted back.

  ‘We cannot survive this storm,’ she shouted, ‘it could last days. We have to find shelter.’

  ‘Agreed,’ he called. ‘We will walk until the light is low and we will dig snow holes.’

  They carried on their trek, everyone supporting each other as they stumbled and trudged their way forward. After what seemed like hours to Seren, Shanew loomed out of the mist and spoke to Aarnoy in their own language, pointing off to one side. Aarnoy turned to
Seren.

  ‘Follow me,’ he shouted and led the group off to the left. A few minutes later, he stopped before a wide crevice in the snow and indicated downwards.

  ‘There is a ledge,’ he shouted. ‘We will wait the storm out below.’ He lay on his stomach and lowered himself over the edge into the relative quiet of the sheltered cleft.

  Seren didn’t hesitate, if they stayed up here, they would die. She helped the rest of the fugitives over the edge, finally joining them on the wide ledge six feet below. As they huddled into groups, few words were spoken, and they listened in freezing misery to the gale whistling over their heads.

  ----

  Seren opened her eyes wondering what was different. Aarnoy once again shook her awake and she quickly realized it was quiet, she was warm and the storm wind had abated.

  ‘Help us wake them,’ he said quietly.

  She looked down at the heavy Mwrllwch cape that had materialized over her body while she slept and pushing it to one side, realized that both Raven and Little-bear shared this gift of warmth from Aarnoy.

  ‘Raven,’ she said quietly, ‘Raven, wake up we have to go.’

  All along the ledge people were stirring, encouraged gently by Aarnoy and Shanew, and despite their limbs aching with the cold, soon they were back out onto the ice. The clear blue skies were a total contrast to the two days of storm and clouds that had blown over their icy shelter. Once again, the body count was taken, this time the loss more severe with over a dozen corpses tipped over into the crevasse, their clothes and fur capes removed for the use of the survivors.

  The fresh snow meant that the going was even slower and by mid-afternoon, the deep trail left in the snow was dotted with the fallen, as the weak dropped by the wayside, dead within minutes of hitting the ice. Seren looked back over their trail in frustration at the trail of bodies.

  There was nothing anyone could do, as all they could manage was to keep themselves going. A movement in the distance caught her eye and she made out a solitary figure following them through the snow.

  ‘Aarnoy!’ she called. ‘Aarnoy, we are being followed.’

  A murmur of fear fluttered through the column and a noticeable increase in pace threaded its way through the group. Aarnoy trotted back to her and peered into the distance.

  ‘It is Morlak,’ she said excitedly, ‘I recognize his cape.’

  Aarnoy did not reply, but stared past him at the snowy hill further into the distance.

  ‘Keep moving,’ he said.

  ‘Why can’t we wait for him?’ she asked.

  He looked down at her.

  ‘Look to the distance, Seren,’ he said, ‘he is not alone!’

  Seren turned her gaze back to the horizon and horror dawned as she saw the distant tiny figures of hundreds of Baal swarm over the snow covered hill, probably no more than minutes behind Morlak.

  ‘Oh no,’ she whispered, ‘is there anything we can do?’

  ‘We must move,’ he said louder, ‘we have to reach the valley.’

  He turned to the terrified group

  ‘There is a river to your front,’ he shouted, ‘follow it into the ice. If you want to live, you will move as fast as you can. Drop your burdens and carry only your knives.’

  They hesitated.

  ‘Move!’ he screamed. ‘If you value your lives, you must run as you have never run before or they will feast on your flesh before this day is out.’

  The group started to run toward the distant river, the panic forcing adrenaline through their veins.

  ‘You too, Seren,’ he said, ‘you cannot help Morlak, None of us can.’

  ‘What will become of him?’ she cried.

  ‘He will escape them, or he will die,’ answered Aarnoy, ‘now, we must go.’ Dragging her by her arm, he pulled her into the running hoard of frightened humans.

  Hundreds of yards to their rear, Morlak’s lungs ached as he drew in the sharp cold air of the freezing plateau, the muscles in his legs screaming for rest, as he ran as fast as he could from the pursuing Baal close on his heels.

  ----

  The lead runners followed the river as it dropped down into the ice, and as the fresh snow from the storm hadn’t reached into this icy valley, the going became much easier. They ran alongside the river as it flowed downwards through the ice, sliding and tripping on the slippery surface as they fled the pursuers with panic and fear radiating from their eyes.

  ‘Keep moving!’ boomed Aarnoy’s voice from the rear echoing down the icy tunnel, and they redoubled their efforts as they descended through the glacier.

  ----

  Morlak saw the tail end of the human column disappear into the bowels of the ice and checked quickly over his shoulder. The Baal were almost upon him and closing fast. He doubled his efforts to catch the column and was surprised to see a lone figure waiting for him at the entrance of the sinkhole. A few minutes later, they greeted each other in the language of the Mwrllwch. Aarnoy looked over Morlak’s head to the pursuers.

  ‘Do the others live?’ asked Aarnoy simply.

  ‘Four are dead,’ answered Morlak, ‘the others have escaped to the hills. He breathed deeply catching his breath. ‘How many Two-feet still live?’

  ‘About half,’ came the reply.

  They both stared at the pursuers.

  ‘They come too quickly,’ he said, ‘we have to slow them down.’

  ‘We are only three spears,’ said Aarnoy, ‘we will be killed in moments.’

  ‘Perhaps, but we have to try. The ledge narrows and turns a corner halfway down. We can make a stand there.’ They turned and followed the captives into the glacier quickly catching up the stragglers, encouraging them to more effort.

  Half an hour later, they turned the corner they sought and stopped to take stock. Shanew had joined them.

  ‘We can hold them here,’ said Morlak. ‘Only a few can attack at one time and our three spears can make more time for the humans.’

  ‘They are well on their way,’ said Shanew, ‘it will give them time to flee to the woods at the bottom of the ice. Some will be recaptured, but at least many will escape.’

  Morlak grunted approval and looked to his fellow Mwrllwch.

  ‘Our time is coming to an end,’ he said, ‘the better place awaits us. Sell your lives dearly and walk with head held high to Huan’s fire.’

  They each took up a position on the icy path facing back the way they had come, bordered on one side with icy wall and on the other, by the racing waters of the melting glacier far below.

  Shouts were coming down the icy corridor and the hidden spears of the Neanderthal quickly dispatched the more zealous Baal as they turned the tight corner. The followers who were close behind realized their peril and pulled up short in confusion as to what to do.

  ----

  Seren stopped at the top of the waterfall that plunged out of the ice cliff thirty feet to the pool in the valley below, encouraging the exhausted survivors past her and down to the forest.

  ‘Get down the path quickly,’ she shouted, ‘run into the woods and lose yourselves in the undergrowth. Quickly, you must keep going.’

  As soon as the last of the survivors passed, she started to follow, but hesitated when she heard a noise to the rear. The sound of fighting echoed down the chamber and in a sudden change of heart, she turned to run back up the tunnel.

  ----

  The three Neanderthal felt the full force of the Baal as they fell on their precarious position. At first, they easily killed the unlucky vanguard, but soon they were down to their knives, as their spears became lodged in Baal bodies.

  They fought silently, their lethal knife skills more than a match for the attackers, but weight of numbers forced them back. As soon as they had given a few meters, more Baal were able to reinforce those that had fallen, and suddenly the Neanderthal were outnumbered four to one across the icy path.

  An attack from a strong young warrior bowled Shanew backwards, and though he was skewered on Shanew’s knife,
the rest of the Baal took the opportunity to charge over his body toward the two remaining defendants, thrusting their spears into Shanew’s prone body as they passed.

  A scream of success closely followed the thud of a spear as it was driven deep into Aarnoy’s chest and he had just enough time to catch Morlak’s eye before the attackers also overran him. Morlak stood alone and as he prepared for the last conflict, he heard a shout from behind.

  ‘Morlak!’ screamed Seren running up the icy path.

  The Neanderthal had no time to think, but knew he could not let Seren fall to the Baal. He threw his knife at the nearest attacker before turning to sprint toward Seren. In seconds, he knew they could not outrun them so as a last resort; he had only one option left to him.

  Seren stopped, confused as to what he intended and gasped in pain as his massive frame hurled itself at her body, carrying both of them over the side of the ice ledge and down toward the freezing water far below.

  The excited screams of the Baal only registered with Seren for a second before her body plunged deep into the freezing swirling river. Only the muffled sound of the raging waters reached her ears below the fast flowing surface. The pain was intense as the cold bit deeply, and she panicked, thrashing frantically to reach the surface to breath. Her head broke through and she gasped for breath, bending her head back and forcing her face upwards to the life giving air. The pain and cold was too intense for her to register how far they had already been washed downstream though she could hear the Baal screaming their frustration in the distance.

  Morlak surfaced next to her and she clung to him as they were washed further down the rapids. Morlak grimaced in pain as her clinging arms knocked against a knife sticking out of his side, a parting gift from the Baal. He tried to guide them to the side, aware that they had only minutes to live in this freezing water, but the current was too strong and they just held each other tightly as they finally sank beneath the surface, their bodies already numb with cold.