by Laura Jack
Brinan of the Wolf Clan
LM Jack
Brinan of the Wolf Clan is the first book
in the Children of the Wolf Clan Series
also available
Land of the Mammoth Clan (Book Two)
Return of the White Bear (Book Three)
Copyright © 2017 L M Jack
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9781973594932
CONTENTS
1
Brinan’s Clan
Pg 5
2
The Gathering
Pg 18
3
Tricks of the Trade
Pg 31
4
Leadership
Pg 44
5
Serena’s Secret
Pg 55
6
Wolf
Pg 66
7
First Hunt
Pg 75
8
Cave
Pg 85
9
Boat
Pg 98
10
First Snow
Pg 109
11
Winter
Pg 121
12
Flash Flood
Pg 133
13
Survival
Pg 146
14
The Crossing
Pg 158
15
Trolls
Pg 171
16
Lynx
Pg 182
17
A New Weapon
Pg 195
18
Cave Lion
Pg 207
19
The River
Pg 219
20
Emosnar
Pg 233
Preview Book 2
Pg 243
1 Brinan’s Clan
An entity speeds towards Earth. It bursts through the clouds, bearing down on northern Europe. It is not, however, the landscape we see today. A large ice sheet over a mile high covers what will one day be Scotland, Northern England and the Nordic lands. The North Sea does not exist. At this time, it is all tundra supporting vast herds of Ice Age mammals and the flora and fauna that support them.
The entity speeds north; swooping low over herds of aurochs, horses, reindeer, onager, red deer. Vast rivers and lakes throw up a million strong flocks of birds, preyed on by eagles and hawks. Vultures and buzzards scavenge the landscape. On reaching the Northern Tundra, the entity weaves through vast herds of mammoth and bison, interspersed with smaller herds of musk ox, solitary woolly rhinoceros and the wolf packs, spotted hyenas and cave lion prides that hunt them.
As it reaches the glacier, the entity veers east towards the Atlantic Ocean. It slows dramatically as it flies high over an ancient boreal forest that will one day become part of the English Channel - it hovers momentarily over a clearing on a hillside, then drops like a stone into a cave.
Inside, the cave is dimly lit by shafts of light escaping the hide cover of the entrance. In one of the hearths, a boy of eleven years scrutinizes the flint blade in his hand, turning it over then back again. He has dark hair with brown eyes and a lean but strong physique - needed for the hard life he leads. He places the flint back on his bed and picks up another one, giving it the same scrutiny and sighs undecided - there is only so much room in his haversack for trade goods. He wants the best of the best so that he can get the best in return.
“Brinan!” The hide cover of the cave is pulled back illuminating the cavernous space and silhouetting the body of a woman framed in the entrance.
“I’m just coming!” Brinan replies without looking up.
“No, you will come now – you have had all spring to pack for the Summer Gathering!” The tone in her voice indicated her patience had run out. Deema - Brinan’s mother - was a tall, muscular woman with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.
Brinan sighed, as if the most unreasonable demand had been placed upon him. He picked up both of the flint flakes he had been studying plus a few others and shoved them into his haversack and slung it over his shoulder, it was heavy but he would get used to it. He picked up his spear and walked out blinking in the bright sunshine. The early summer morning dew was steaming off the foliage, hinting at the heat the day would bring.
I think I have enough to trade with. He reasoned remembering last summer’s gathering of the clans. This year he wanted to do some trading of his own. He had spent many days during the winter making things – mostly flint tools – to trade with. His clan lived near a chalk cliff with seams of flint running through. Taken from source, the flint was better quality and easier to work with. He looked up at the entrance to the cave and nodded a farewell to the skull of a wolf that was suspended above. Two burly men impatiently rolled down a heavy bison hide, pegging the base of it into the ground.
One of the men ruffled his hair. “What was keeping you in there?”
Brinan scowled at his mother’s new mate, Jonan. Her first mate Baran – who was Brinan’s father, had gone on a journey just before Brinan’s sister, Serena, was born, and had never returned. Jonan was alright, but tried too hard to make Brinan like him. He had come from another Clan; the Reindeer Clan. Their territory was on the steppes far to the east of Brinan’s Cave. His mother was happier since Jonan had joined them, so Brinan just smiled but it was only the front of a smile - behind it, he was still brooding about his choice of flint.
“Picking the best flint to trade with? We’ll make a headman of you yet.” Arguus, the Clan’s headman and Brinan’s uncle, answered for him.
Brinan smiled gratefully at him. He deeply respected his Uncle Arguus. As his nephew, Brinan was heir to the leadership of the Clan. He took his place next to his mother among the band of Ice Age travellers. With a final scan over the twelve members of the Wolf Clan – men, women, and children – Arguus raised his arm high and swung it forward “Wolf Clan Ho!” The Clan set off with answering hoots and howls, buzzing with the excitement of a journey and the prospect of their annual tribal gathering.
It was a beautiful morning in early summer. A brisk southerly wind chased white clouds across an azure sky. Arguus led his Clan down the valley where they lived. He was a short, barrel-chested man with long sandy hair tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. He wore a leather tunic decorated with the canine teeth of wolves, feathers and hollow bird bones sawn into beads. Underneath the tunic, he wore a sleeveless leather shirt and leather trousers tucked into fur lined boots made of reindeer hide. Around his waist, he wore a thick leather belt, through which had been looped several pouches for personal belongings, food and tools.
The women and girls of the Wolf Clan wore a similar outfit. Some wore trouser but others just wore tunics that were longer, below the knee and long boots. Brinan was dressed similarly to the men - looped through a belt around his waist he also had one special pouch made of deer hide which had been dyed black and burnished to an ebony sheen.
The pouch contained his personal talismans; the large canine tooth of a wolf that identified him as a member of the Wolf Clan; a small lump of stalagmite from the Cave of the Horse Clan that identified him as a member of the Tribe of Magdalene; a piece of iron pyrite, his highly prized firestone – used to make fire by striking a piece of flint. It was a life saving and therefore essential part of his being. The smallest item, given to him when he was five, was his personal birthstone - a grey, glistening granite stone which represented unyielding strength and clarity of thought - appropriate qualities for a future leader.
Amidst the band of travellers, all the adults - as well as carrying larger haversacks made of leather - each pulled a large travois. Made with two long poles that
come to a point with a platform across the wider part, on top of which piles of fur and hides were stacked, the travois were used to transport larger amounts of goods that could not be carried. The poles of several travois would also serve as tent poles. Everything the Clan made had to serve a duel or better still - multi purpose, especially when travelling. All the children of the Clan carried a haversack similar to Brinan’s in which they kept personal belongings, travel food and goods for trading.
Everyone was in high spirits. The journey to the Summer Gathering always created a holiday mood despite the hardship of travelling on foot with heavy loads - they thought nothing of it - it was simply their way of life. A sandy haired girl of five ran around the band of travellers chanting and singing. As part of the tribe of Magdalene, they were the first modern humans to inhabit Northern Europe. The Wolf Clan looked forward to their journey South through a land that would one day be called France. They had only walked a short distance however, when the little girl stopped suddenly.
“Flossa!” She wailed. “I forgot Flossa!”
“Oh Matina.” groaned her mother, Lodina. Then, looking directly at the headman she smiled apologetically. “She won’t settle without her.”
Matina howled even louder warning that her mother was right.
“Brinan, go back and get Matina’s doll.” commanded Arguus. Madina’s howl lowered to a drawn out whine for good measure. Brinan dropped his haversack and sprinted up the hill to the cave. He pulled out one of the ground pegs; slipped between the heavy hide and rock wall and ran to Matina’s hearth. Enough light filtered in for him to find the doll. It was made of soft rabbit skin and stuffed with wool. The doll had arms and legs although it’s hands and feet were not defined, and the flat face had the image of eyes, a nose and a mouth sewn onto it. It was crudely made but still worn out at the seams with love. After pegging the hide back down, Brinan sprinted down the hill to the Clan who were now walking along a river bank that opened out into a wide lake that would, in about five thousand years, be part of the English Channel. To the west of their great lake lay the Endless Sea – the Atlantic Ocean. Brinan gave Matina her doll, which she hugged and simpered to. He took his haversack from Arguus and walked steadily letting his breath calm after the exertion.
It was near noon and after a winter of confinement to the cave, Brinan’s leg muscles ached and the flint flakes dug into his back. All the children had grown quiet - most of the adults too – losing their early enthusiasm to tiredness. But they were the Wolf Clan and prided themselves on having the tenacity and stamina of their namesake. When Arguus called for them to rest by a stream, everyone sank where they were. Brinan found a large boulder and dumped his haversack beside it. He went to the stream for a drink and when he returned found that his seat had been taken by Matina.
“That was my seat, Matina.”
Matina, her name meant ‘little mother’ cuddled her doll and gazed at Brinan with adulation.
“I know,” she said cheerfully. “Can I sit with you?”
Brinan nodded, although he would rather she didn’t - but you don’t refuse Matina! One tantrum a day was bad enough, he wasn’t going to trigger another one.
“Would you like to hold Flossa?”
“Not really.” said Brinan. Matina’s smile evaporated into a pout.
“Oh okay, but only until you get your lunch out.” Brinan took the doll and tried to hold it in a way that wasn’t conspicuous. A boy and girl walked towards them. The boy, Callom, grinned as he approached.
“Congratulations Brinan! I see your mate has given you a healthy child – is it a boy or girl?” Callom sat down on the ground and cooed at the doll.
“Very funny!” growled Brinan giving the doll back to Matina who giggled at Callom.
The girl was Brinan’s twelve year old sister, Serena; she would one day co-lead the Wolf Clan with Brinan just as their mother now did with her brother. Serena sat on a boulder near the boys. She took a travelling cake from her haversack and ate quietly, lost in thought.
“Mother says we’re going to camp on the sea shore before the Summer Gathering to store up on fish and shell fish,” announced Brinan. He was looking forward to spear fishing and especially wanted to try out the new spear that he had made for himself that winter. Fishing and trapping smaller game was the nearest he could get to hunting like the men.
“We are?” Serena brightened. “Good, I need shells for my paints.”
“…and for beads,” added Matina. “Mother is making me a new tunic for my adoption ceremony.” Now that she had survived her fifth winter, Matina would be recognized as a member of the tribe of Magdalane. Babies were acknowledged by their immediate family from birth; by the whole Clan if they lived for a moon cycle - but had to wait until their fifth year before being recognized by the tribal elders – at this time their birthstone and future purpose in the tribe was also revealed. Serena’s adoption ceremony had caused some upset when she had been called to be a Shaman - despite her birthright to co-lead the Clan with Brinan.
After lunch, the children stayed together for the afternoon’s trek south. They still followed the river, which made the route predictable but safe. Only an experienced traveller could navigate away from major landmarks using the stars as a guide.
“I’m going to show Uncle Felmas my new invention.” said Callom. His Uncle Felmas was a tool maker in the Horse Clan, which played host to the other Clans every summer for the Gathering. Callom pulled out a small wooden contraption and showed it to Brinan and Serena. A dozen rods, which had been glued into holes bored around the short stump of a sapling, were framed by a circle of wood.
“What’s it for?” asked Brinan admiring the craftsmanship.
“Don’t know yet,” admitted Callom cheerfully. “I’ll think of some use for it.”
“It’s pretty,” said Serena taking the object from Brinan and holding it up. Its symmetry was near perfect.
“It looks like the rays of the sun – it could be a talisman.”
“For what?” snorted Brinan. “Anyway, you’re not a Shaman yet so how would you know!”
“I only meant it was unusual enough to mean something. You don’t have to be a Shaman to see that!”
“You’d better not let Tamo hear you say that, he doesn’t think much of girls that try to be Shamans.” warned Brinan.
It was true, Tamo, like many of his calling had been unsettled at the announcement of Serena’s calling when she was five. Many said it was only because the current head Shaman had also been a woman – the first in several generations – but she had been one of the best. Serena looked warily at Tamo, the Clan’s Shaman, but he was well out of earshot and deep in conversation with Arguus.
“I’m not getting any younger Arguus. The day may come soon when the Wolf Clan is without a Shaman.”
“You have Serena.” Stated Arguus flatly, he’d been through this before.
“Yes, I know but …”
“But what?”
“I agree she was named as a future Shaman but she is also a future leader, who can possibly be expected to bear the burden of co-leadership and shaman duties - it’s too much for a boy, let alone a girl.”
“She will manage.” Snapped Arguus. He’d also heard this argument before and his tone made it clear he was not going to stand for it.
“It wasn’t clear cut that she would be just a Shaman, or a co-leader.”
“By birthright she is also a future co-leader and it was made clear enough at her naming ceremony that she would ‘walk’ new pathways for the spiritual safety and well being of the tribe.”
“True, but what does that mean? I’ve tried and tried but cannot find an insight into what the old Shaman meant.” argued Tamo. He didn’t like to admit to failing in his duties.
“Not everything is set in stone. Serena’s path will reveal itself in its own time, just like everyone else’s, remember she still has a choice. Do you have anyone else in mind to train?” asked Arguus, trying to simmer down the
argument that was brewing.
“I had hoped Callom would show some interest but I think he will be a wood worker like his own father, he has an inventive mind but no interest in the spirit world. I guess it will have to be Serena, even though it is frowned upon. People say women Shamans don’t make good mothers.”
“That’s just narrow minded thinking and jealousy. They also say that about women who co-lead. Do you want to take this up with Deema? ”
“Funny!” Tamo retorted. “She would roast me alive!” He shifted the weight of his backpack and grimaced. Arguus noticed his discomfort which made him think of his own fatigue. “It’s getting late, I think we will make camp soon,” he announced, tactfully changing the subject.
It took three more days journey to reach the sea, and every step took the Wolf Clan, not only farther from their cave, but farther from the Great Glacier. Outer garments were taken off and the Wolf Clan enjoyed the warmer sunshine that greeted their South Westerly trek. With the warmer climate came more abundance as the season was further on than in the North, it was almost into early summer here. The tribe of Magdalene, of which the Wolf Clan was only one small group, worshipped the Earth and the life it sustained. They believed that all things – plants, animals, rocks and water - the very earth itself, came from the same powerful source that created all.
They also believed that they were guided through life’s journey by their ancestors as spirit guides and their ancestors would hold them accountable for any failings when they reached the afterlife. The communal rearing of children was the reason that the tribe had evolved and thrived as it did, making it a Matriarchal society. With only small pockets of human populations scattered over a large landscape, children were a precious commodity. Women were valued and revered for their ability to produce children and men were valued as providers and protectors of both Cave and Clan.
