by Laura Jack
“Lovely, lovely,” crooned Emosnar. It was not clear whether he was referring to the food or the young woman who was offering it to him, which made the young woman blush and the men laugh. Brinan noticed that none of the women laughed.
“What news do you have of the Northern Clans?” Dagme asked him, changing the jovial mood to one more serious. Emosnar took a big slug of wine then looked at Dagme.
“Good and bad,” He replied. The musicality of his voice had disappeared and his tone was deeper, serious.
“Both the Reindeer Clan and the Mammoth Clan have been breaking new territories. They have pooled their resources. The good news is that a new amber mine has been discovered and a potential new forest - larger even than the ones just north of here, with good hunting and many waterways for fishing and travel. The Woolly Rhinoceros Clan tried to stake a claim to the region, including the amber mine, but the other two argue that it is too big for one Clan.
They are finding that mammoth are harder to find though because the land is warmer and wetter, so the Mammoth Clan are keen to stay as far north as possible near the Glacier where the beasts are still numerous. I’ve mapped out the new region as well as I can gather from the information. Their headman is mating a woman from the Cave Lion Clan, first contact they’ve had in years!” As he spoke, Emosnar pulled a soft hide from his haversack and opened it out on the floor. It doubled as both a blanket and a map. Brinan and Callom craned to get a look at it but only saw tantalising glimpses.
“Does this new territory have a name?” Deema asked, studying the map with interest. “It’s not that far from our cave. A moon cycle’s walk - maybe more - from our Flint Mine? What do you think Arguus?”
“Depends on the terrain and how passable these water ways are.” Arguus replied.
“Passable by boat here,” Emosnar replied, tracing his finger along the length of a river that opened out into a large waterway. “The Mammoth Clan call it Godreland, after their headman, Godre. He found the Amber mine quite by chance - fell down a sink hole - was given up for dead but turned up a quarter moon cycle later with a haversack full of amber. He persuaded them to move camp and now they’re planning to build new Mammoth Huts between the mine and the great ice. It’s a fair trek for them but the new territories are full of new opportunities.”
Deema snorted, “Who but Godre would call a new land after himself!”
“Well you know Godre!” Emosnar replied with a smile. “He has big plans for the Clan and they seem happy to go along with them.”
“So what’s the bad news?” Deema asked.
“We’re not the only tribe to take an interest in the new land.” Emosnar continued. “There was talk of a conflict between the Reindeer Clan and a raid by a scouting party from the one of the central tribes, the Eagle Clan from Steppeland. They’ve suffered a few bad winters and are desperately looking for a new territory.”
“Ah,” Deema replied. “When there is nothing to trade, people turn to raid. How sad that they felt that was their only option.” There was a murmur of agreement from the others; most had suffered their share of famine and the consequences of inter-tribal raids at some point during their lives.
“This new territory sounds good. We could send a scout party that way after the feasts, how about it Felmas?” Arguus replied looking directly at an older man who bore a striking resemblance to Callom. “Would you be willing to lead a tribal party as representative of the Wolf Clan?”
“Yes, I think that would be a good idea.” It was too much for Callom and he stood up among the furs he was hiding between, giving himself away in the hope he would be asked to go too.
“Uncle, I’ll go!” He tried to say with authority but it came out as a nervous squeak.
“What in Magda’s name are you doing in here boy? Out - now!” Roared his grandfather, Yorak. Callom visibly deflated, bowed his head and left. Felmas stifled a grin of admiration. Brinan stood up meekly and followed him, which raised several eyebrows. The two boys made their way back to their own tents, crawling into their camp furs to discuss what they had overheard. Eventually tiredness overcame them.
“I really want to go with Felmas, do you think he will take me?” Callom said finally. But Brinan had fallen asleep.
3 Tricks Of The Trade
When he woke up next morning, the first thing Brinan noticed was Serena, fast asleep in her furs, but she hadn’t bothered to undress. He got up, dressed quickly, and scooped himself a cup of mint tea that Deema had made.
“Give this one to your sister.” Deema handed him a second wooden cup.
“Wakey! Wakey!” Brinan sang, shaking Serena vigorously.
“Brinan, go and jump off a cliff!” Serena mumbled, diving deeper into her furs. “It’s the Summer Gathering! I don’t have to be up early if I don’t want to!”
“No, but I want to talk to you!” Deema commanded.
Brinan stood up and stepped back, grinning.
“Someone’s in trouble!” he sang, which got him a cuff from Deema.
“I don’t think you’re in a position to be gloating considering where you were last night! No one is in trouble. Be quick, I have a meeting of leaders to attend this morning.”
Serena sat up carefully. She took the cup from her mother, avoiding eye contact and took a mouthful of tea.
“Serena, remember our talk before we left?”
“You promised I wouldn’t get any more lectures. I’ve been good all winter. How many furs did I skin? Not to mention all those bracelets I made for trade . . .”
“The meeting is about you, well, partly. Tamo wants to put you forward as an Acoytle. Would you be agreeable?”
Serena was wide-awake in a heartbeat.
“Oh! Really, could I - you wouldn’t mind. Honestly I won’t let it affect my hearth duties or my training with you I promise.”
“Oh don’t you worry - I won’t let it.” Replied Deema. “I just want to be sure that it is something you want. Enjoy your day, both of you, but do take some food with you and remember what Tamo said - stay away from those caves.”
Brinan took his haversack with him, feeling the weight of the tools he had to trade. Serena had some jewellery to trade, all of which she had made during the confinement of winter. Her goods included several wooden bracelets cut out from one slim tree trunk, and smoothed with sandstone. Serena had experimented by carving some simple patterns on them. Wavy lines were her favourite - they represented the sea. She had also spent several days painstakingly boring holes into tiny shells and animal teeth, threading them together in different arrangements to make necklaces.
Her favourite piece however, was a necklace, made of braided leather. Through the base at the front, she had threaded the canine tooth of a wolf. It lacked the colour and intricacy of her shell necklaces, some would have regarded it as primitive, but it showed off her long, graceful neck. She had made a similar one for her mother.
“You should wear the jewellery you have made and imply that it is not for trade to attract more interest and secure a better bargain – people always offer more for the seemingly unobtainable.” Deema suggested then left for her meeting.
Brinan overheard this piece of advice and decided to leave his haversack behind. Mother was a shrewd trader. Instead, he took only a few of his tools and put them into the pouches hanging from his waist belt to imply they were personal.
They left the hearth. Callom, who had been hovering nearby, joined them. The three children of the Wolf Clan wandered between the tents of different camps and out onto the plains by the river where they had seen their friends yesterday. They smiled when they spotted a large group of children clustered there already.
“Brinan! Over here!” beckoned a tall, red haired boy. He was Brinan’s age but less robust, with red hair, fair skin and a constellation of freckles. The two boys raised their hands, interlocking their clenched fists as if to arm wrestle. It was a form of greeting but also an opportunity to test the strength and character of the other.
“I’m not that much taller than Brinan, see – and we are still the same age!”
“Where is Condor?” asked Brinan. Condor was from the Aurochs Clan, he had been voted leader of the children last summer.
“He’s with the other young men; it’s his turn for rites of passage this Summer.” Rufus explained. The two boys studied each other. Both knew what that meant. This summer it would be one of them to lead the children - but which one? It changed their relationship and an underlying competitiveness now came to the surface.
“So how is the future leader of the Horse Clan?” asked Brinan.
“Fed up of gathering wood, I had to sneak away and you?” Both boys sat down by the river, the other children gathered around them.
“Oh, you know, kept busy.” Brinan shrugged, casually he took out a small knife and turned it over absently in his hand. The handle was a tine from the antler of a small deer, with simple chevron lines carved along the broadside of the handle. The blade, crafted from fine flint, was razor sharp.
“So I see.” Rufus eyed the knife. His sister Jana, staring across at Brinan, was not so subtle.
“That is a beautiful knife Brinan. Did you make it?”
“Yes, but it’s not for trade, it’s the best I’ve made,” said Brinan before putting it away. One of the best he thought – but not the best. Rufus watched the knife disappear into Brinan’s waist belt.
“Have you hunted with it yet?” Rufus asked. It was a subtle way of asking if it was still sharp.
“No, I think I might save it for the horse hunt. The tine handle came from the deer we got for our winter ceremony. It will bring me great luck.”
Rufus took the bait. From the rucksack on his back, he pulled out half a dozen spearheads. The flint heads, glued into short wooden shafts, were designed to slot into the end of long spear shafts. When a shaft broke, the spearhead could be retrieved and re-used. It took a long time to make spearheads but spear shafts were relatively quick to make but easily broken. “You’ll in need of these?” Offered Rufus.
“I saw your Shaman this morning.” Jana told Serena, already bored by the boys trading. “He was talking about having you accepted for training, are you really going to be an Acoytle?” Serena nodded.
Jana babbled on. “That’s a lovely necklace; you wouldn’t want to trade it would you?”
“Maybe, depends what for,” replied Serena.
Brinan look at his sister as she got up to leave with Jana. They both exchanged a knowing smile, thanks to Mother - they both had the upper hand. He looked back at the spear heads.
“They’re well made alright, but nothing special. We have our own flint mine. Got anything else?” Brinan put the spearheads on the ground between Rufus and himself. It was a trader’s trick, a physical act to reinforce the statement that what is offered is not enough. Rufus, not to be outdone, rummaged in his haversack and brought out a large obsidian axe head. Have you ever seen an axe this big? You could chop down a ‘mother’ tree with this.” Callom’s eyes lit up, stood behind the two older boys, he nudged Brinan with his foot. A mother tree was a mature tree that was thick enough to make into canoes, a recent invention that the boys had seen at last summer’s gathering. Callom’s greatest wish was to make one. Brinan took the axe head and gave Rufus the knife.
“Done!” Said both boys, simultaneously clenching fists to seal the bargain.
You certainly have been. Thought Callom. He knew that Brinan had made six of those knives, none of which was from a Winter Festival sacrificial deer. He also knew that the obsidian from which the axe head was made, was rarer than flint and wondered if Rufus had just taken it without someone’s permission. Rufus pocketed the knife and turned to his friends. He felt elated and his perceived victory had brought him one-step nearer to the leadership.
There were further exchanges of possessions. Brinan traded with one of the other boys for some sturdy rope made from plant fibres. The summer sun rose higher and the day grew hotter until it could be ignored no longer. The children moved into the shade of the forest but still avoided the adult encampment.
“How about a game of something?” suggested Rufus.
“I have one,” replied Brinan. He was good at inventing games. He thought of the cairns of stones with horse bones put down to help them find their way to the cave. “Let’s track.” Two people lay a trail and the rest have to follow.”
“How?” Asked Rufus.
“We make signs, with boulders.” Replied Brinan.
“That takes too long - we’d be caught too quickly.” Said Rufus. He thought of the cairns too, it had been his job to build some of them.
“Why not draw symbols in the dirt, or use branches to show where you have been.” Suggested Serena, she had returned with Jana, who was now wearing her necklace. Brinan wondered what she had bartered in return for it.
“Good idea, what sort of symbols?”
“How about a circle with a spearhead inside? Here, let me show you.” She picked up a stick and scratched out the symbol in the dirt on the path.
“Can you draw other symbols like that – make them up I mean?” Jana was impressed. Serena squirmed, her ability to invent symbols impressed the others too but she did not think it was special.
“Serena’s going to be a Shaman,” Jana announced to the others. “She should be our Shaman for the Gathering, don’t you think?” Everyone nodded, which made Serena blush deeply but smile too.
“That’s settled then, Serena is our Shaman.” Rufus announced. “Come on, are we tracking or not? Brinan, we will be the quarry and the rest of you can be hunters. Look out for other signs too. We won’t leave them too often or make them too obvious.”
Brinan realized that, although the game was his idea, Rufus had taken over. He was annoyed but said nothing.
“Can I join?” A voice asked from the top of the riverbank. The group, gathered around Serena’s symbol in the dirt, looked up. Everyone gave a startled gasp. The boy on the riverbank had a wolf with him, a real, live wolf! The boy’s unique belt identified him as being of the Aurochs Clan.
Most of the children back away. Brinan noticed the wolf had a leather collar and the boy held him by a length of rope. The wolf looked keenly at the children, not in a hungry way, but as a child - keen to join in the games - his tailed wagged in anticipation.
“Solman, where did you get that wolf?” Asked Rufus, in awe of the animal that sat willingly by the boy.
“My father brought it back. A bear killed his mother. She must have been a lone wolf because he found this cub hanging around her carcass. He was only a couple of moons old. We raised him in our cave. He is almost fully-grown and he is learning to hunt with father. He’s very good at tracking; father says his nose is worth ten good hunters.”
As he spoke, Solman scrambled down the bank, pulled by the eager wolf as he tried to lunge for Rufus. Startled, Rufus backed away, almost falling over a log.
“It’s okay. His name is Ram - he’s very friendly.” It was true. The wolf, not quite fully grown, still retained his puppyish ways and was writhing to greet the children. It was Brinan, who approached him first. The wolf jumped up and licked his face.
“Ram, down!” Commanded Solman and to Brinan’s amazement the wolf obeyed, fixing his gaze on the boy who held him. Far from being frightened, Brinan was pleased that the wolf acknowledged him as leader of this pack which Solman confirmed by explaining some of wolf pack behaviour for the benefit of the others. Copying Solman, Brinan tentatively stroked and scratched the wolf, his attention brought more wolfish kisses and Brinan was smitten.
“You can join us, but you’d better be the quarry with us, I’m not sure I want to be tracked by a real wolf!” Said Brinan, he was not afraid - he just wanted to keep the wolf close to him. The mom
ent Brinan said this, Rufus wished he had been the first to greet the wolf, he noticed the respect and attention Brinan had earned by being fearless. Both boys were glad, however, that Solman was a few years younger than either of them, having a real wolf gave him a lot of status, but Solman did not hanker for leadership, he was just glad to be accepted.
It promised to be an excellent hunt. Rufus knew the area around his Cave well and the three boys and wolf gave the trackers a good run. To make the game more interesting, Brinan explained that they were running from a pack of ‘Trolls’. They had all heard the stories of the flat headed, powerfully built men that once occupied these caves. When their tribal ancestors had first arrived from the southern lands, there had been much fighting with the trolls until eventually they had disappeared.
People believed that they were long dead but rumours were heard that they still existed in remote areas in the north east. They were rumoured only to live in hill caves in the wooded valleys. The worst that was said of them was that they would kill and eat Brinan’s kind. They didn’t travel to find food but scavenged and hunted anything that chanced upon their territory, especially children.
‘Don’t go into the woods at night or the trolls will eat you!’ Was the most effective deterrent a mother could tell her children. Brinan did not believe the stories. There are plenty of things wandering around at night that would eat you up – but he enjoyed the added excitement it brought to their game. He, Rufus and Solomon would have to use all their cunning and skills to evade these ancestral trackers, who, it is said, can sniff you out like a pack of cave hyenas. The other children warmed to the idea and smeared their faces with mud. Callom found the leg bone of a horse, banged it on a rock and grunted.
