by Jo Sandhu
‘It might be safer for you to stay here with the traders,’ he said. ‘I don’t know what to expect at Mammoth Camp.’
‘Tarin! They won’t reject you, I’m sure of that.’ Kaija spoke to him firmly.
‘But . . .’
‘No more buts,’ said Kaija. ‘A bit of snow isn’t going to stop us, and the rivers freezing? It just makes them easier to cross. We have food, and we can hunt along the way. And if your clan rejects you, then we just keep going. Didn’t you say Bison Clan was only a few days from Mammoth Clan?’
‘Yes,’ said Tarin. He chewed his lip.
Kaija shook him. ‘You came with us to the Karvkh, because that’s what Clan does. We stick together. We are coming with you whether you want us to or not. And if you think you can slip away in the night, we will follow you.’
‘So, we are agreed?’ Luuka held his hand out.
‘Agreed,’ Kaija said, and put her hand in his. ‘Tarin?’
Tarin hesitated only a moment longer. ‘Agreed,’ he said, and as he placed his hand on top of the other two, a broad grin broke out on his face.
‘Wolf Clan,’ he said. ‘All of us.’
But the morning brought another change of plan.
In the night, one of the children had fallen ill. He was restless with fever and his head ached. Kaija remembered the boy, Ivvar, from the previous evening. He had already been fretful and scratching at a red bite on his neck. His mother had tried to please him with the wolves, but he cried and was afraid.
Senja passed his mother a drink of tea.
‘Poplar bark sweetened with berries,’ she said, showing Kaija the dried bark. ‘There is no willow in these areas, but poplar is just as good. Magga, it will help his fever.’
For a moment, Kaija had the strange feeling they were back in River Clan. Her mother, leaning over a patient, the smell of burning sage, and Kaija kneeling beside her, helping . . . it gave her a warm glow of familiarity deep inside. Then she remembered where they were and the warmth left her.
‘Kaija, see.’ Senja smoothed the boy’s hair from his neck. The insect bite was red and inflamed. He opened his eyes and they were red, too, and pain-filled. Senja drew in a deep, hissing breath. ‘It is the Sickness,’ she whispered to Kaija.
‘No! How can it be?’ Kaija’s first reaction was to run, but she couldn’t leave the boy suffering. He whimpered and tossed and turned and his mother started crying too.
Kaija took his mother’s hand and squeezed. ‘He will be better with the medicine,’ she said. ‘Hold him still while I give it to him.’ She managed to give him most of the tea, sip by sip, then placed cool rabbit skin leathers over his forehead. ‘This will take the pain away,’ she said.
She glared at her mother sitting back in the shadows of the kota and motioned her out of the tent, leaving Magga and a couple of elder women with the boy.
‘Why do you sit there and do nothing?’ Kaija snapped.
Senja shrugged. ‘It is the Sickness. There is nothing I can do. I cannot heal this, and when I cannot they will cast me out, just like before.’ Then her eyes narrowed. ‘It is you who brings this sickness. It is you who brings this trouble to me. Two born together are bad luck.’
Kaija felt as though her mother had slapped her, but she swallowed her anger and her hurt. There was a sick boy who needed her help.
‘Why do you say it is the same sickness?’ she asked.
Her mother closed her eyes and sighed. ‘The red marks, where the bad Spirits bite and gnaw. The eyes. The fever. Next he will struggle to breathe, and then . . .’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘And then he will die, just like Retu.’
Kaija was silent, thinking. The red mark she had taken for an insect bite, not the mark of the bad Spirits.
Small, biting insect . . . make meat bad . . . make breath like water.
Narn had said that, the day they hunted an old, sick reindeer. They had left it, and then the cave lion attacked. Kaija’s hand closed on the lion’s claw hanging around her neck.
Ruva had told her about the black mushroom, though.
Make broth of bones, reindeer, bison, rabbit, all bones . . .boil, boil, boil many days. Black wood from fire, drink, then . . .
‘Wormwood,’ Kaija muttered. ‘The whole plant, leaf, flower, root.’ She sifted further through her memories. ‘And the black mushroom!’ Her hand went to her medicine pouch.
Very smell, Ruva had said, and even thinking about the spindly, hair-like fungus reminded Kaija of wet, rotten earth.
‘Mother, listen to me. I need a bone broth. Can you do that?’
Senja raised her head. Her eyes were blank. She frowned at Kaija. ‘Why do you even try?’
‘Because I am a healer,’ Kaija said, and her voice trembled. ‘I cannot leave that boy to suffer.’
Senja sighed. ‘If I help you, will you then leave? Leave me to live my life here, with what happiness I may find?’
Words stuck in Kaija’s throat, threatening to choke her. She was glad Luuka was not here to hear their mother’s hurtful words. She drew a trembling breath and took a step away from her. ‘I thought you wanted us to stay and we’d be a family again?’
Senja shrugged. ‘If you would stay, then so would the wolves. But I think it better now that you don’t.’
Kaija’s teeth ground together. ‘The bone broth?’
‘Elder One, Nanni, always has bone broth.’
‘And wormwood and charcoal,’ Kaija said, as they moved back to the kota.
The tent was thick with sage smoke as Kaija knelt by the old woman and explained what she needed. Nanni was wrinkled and bent nearly in half, but her eyes were as bright as stars. She nodded eagerly.
‘Bone broth, we always have. It is very good. We boil many days and add reindeer lichen. It gives strength.’
‘I’m going to add this to it,’ Kaija said, and carefully unwrapped the pouch holding the black mushroom. The rabbit stomach lining had protected the fragile mushroom from water, but when Kaija peeled back the pouch, she saw a fine white fur on top of the mushroom. She gasped in dismay. It was ruined!
Senja leant over and touched the fur. ‘This is good,’ she said. ‘It makes the mushroom stronger.’
Kaija stared at her in disbelief. ‘You knew about this mushroom but you didn’t use it at River Clan?’
‘I know it,’ Senja said. ‘You find it under rotting wood, in the dark places of the forest. If you breathe the smoke, it helps you talk to the Spirits.’
‘And if you drink with bone broth, it helps the Sickness,’ Kaija said.
Senja blinked and looked stricken. She stared at Kaija.
‘I didn’t know.’
Kaija held her mother’s gaze. Truly, she seemed genuinely upset, but Kaija no longer trusted her. So she just nodded and turned her attention back to Nanni as she gently heated the broth.
‘Kaija, I’ve brought the wormwood.’ Tarin came into the kota and squatted next to her. ‘How can I help?’
‘You can talk to the Spirits for us, Tarin. Ask for their help.’
Tarin nodded and sat back in the shadows, his hand clasped around the pendant Minna had given him. He closed his eyes and his lips started to move, but his words were too soft for Kaija to hear.
Nanni added the wormwood and charcoal and stirred the broth. It turned a deep black colour. Then, piece by piece, Kaija added the strands of mushroom. The foetid smell filled the kota and made everyone cough.
With Magga’s help, they fed the broth to the boy, spoon by spoon. Kaija looked around for her mother, but Senja had left the tent. Nanni prodded Tarin’s foot and he opened his eyes.
‘Louder,’ she said. And she lifted a reindeer skin drum onto her lap and started to beat it. Tarin took a deep breath and joined her, and Kaija realised he wasn’t just talking to the Spirits, he was singing.
‘What are his totems?’ Tarin asked. Magga smoothed her son’s hair and spoke in a soft whisper. ‘Reindeer, of course, Fox, Snow and Hare.’
Tarin nodded and joined his song to the beat of Nanni’s drum. ‘Reindeer and Fox and Snow and Hare . . .’
Kaija sat back on her heels and rubbed her face. She had done what she could. Suddenly, she felt very tired. Senja’s words had wounded her deeply. It was a wound that would never really heal and she would carry it with her all her life. But for now she buried it deep inside, where all her fears lived. There would be time later, when their journey was over, to explore the pain and maybe find some way to ease it.
Another delay to their journey, she thought. They would be here longer now, until there was a sign that the medicine had worked. She closed her eyes, letting the song and the drumbeats wash over her, carrying her cares away. It was soothing and healing to her spirit. The smoke in the tent became easier to breathe, and she imagined it spiralling upwards to the top of the kota and out the air hole, taking all the sickness and hurt with it.
Let it spiral away, into the sky, she thought. And let the Spirits help us all on our way.
It took five days for the medicine to lift the fever from Ivvar, and even then, he remained weak and listless. But he would live, a joyful Magga told Kaija and Tarin as they once more prepared to leave. She pressed warm, soft reindeer pelts on them in gratitude, and to Kaija, she gave a leather tie decorated with carved antler and bone to thread in her hair.
It had been difficult explaining their decision to move on to Vas, and even harder to make Sasha understand.
‘But why do you have to go?’ Sasha cried. ‘I thought you weren’t angry with me anymore.’
‘We aren’t angry with you, Sasha,’ Kaija said. ‘But we have to go. Tarin’s home is still a long way, and we want to beat the Winter.’
‘Then stay with us. If you’ll stay with us, I can still see Rohk and Nilkka.’ The boy’s face puckered.
Luuka knelt by him and took his hands. ‘Sasha, I know you’ll miss the wolves, but maybe someday you’ll find a wolf of your own.’ Sasha’s face brightened.
‘I’d like a black wolf,’ he said.
Luuka smiled and placed something in Sasha’s hand. ‘I will never forget you helped us save the wolves, back there in the Karvkh camp,’ he said. ‘So I would like you to have these, and I’m sure Rohk and Nilkka would like you to have them, too.’
Sasha looked down. ‘Are they claws?’ He touched the claws carefully.
‘Cave bear claws,’ Luuka said. ‘Two of them, to remember the two wolves.’
‘Thank you!’ The boy flung his arms around Luuka and hugged him.
‘I am sorry we will not have your company over Winter,’ Vas said. ‘But I understand.’ He shook them by the hand, then laughed and embraced them all. He picked Kaija up and swung her around. ‘You would have made good traders,’ he said. ‘Perhaps sometime we will head towards Mammoth Clan. Not too soon, of course,’ he said, with a quick glance to where Senja stood apart. ‘But someday.’
‘We would be happy to see you at Mammoth Clan,’ Tarin said.
‘I am thinking in the Spring, when we follow the herd, we may try to separate a few of the younger ones. Perhaps Sasha would be happy caring for a young reindeer, what do you think?’
‘I think it’s a good idea,’ Kaija said.
‘Until you eat it,’ Luuka added.
Vas laughed. ‘Yes, that could be a problem. I thought maybe of using the reindeers to carry the kotas, but can you see me running across the tundra after a runaway reindeer?’ He clasped their hands again and drew Senja into the circle as final farewells were said. ‘Safe travels, my friends. And happy homecomings.’
Senja looked past them, eyes distant.
The morning was gone by the time they finally left the traders. Vas had insisted they share a final meal, and then he wanted to pack them some of the berries that were already baked on the hot rocks. Sasha had said his farewells to the wolves, and tried to help them pack, but finally, they were ready to go.
‘You will find your way easily enough,’ Vas said. ‘At this time of year, we call the brightest star the Wolf Star. Keep that behind you and you cannot go wrong.’
They paused at the top of the rise and looked back towards the circle of kotas. Vas stood there still, with one hand raised. Tarin raised his own hand in farewell. ‘I hope we do see them again one day,’ he said, glancing at Kaija.
The day stayed fine and they made good progress over the plains. The first stars appeared, and they looked for the Wolf Star and corrected their course. Rohk was happy to have Nilkka with them once again, and kept close to her. That night when they made camp, the wolves stayed with them and shared the strips of dried reindeer Vas had given them.
‘We have the bear travelling cakes,’ Kaija said, mentally checking their supplies. ‘And plenty of mushrooms. If we could hunt or fish along the way would be good and we can keep the rest of the dried meat for emergencies.’
They sat in companionship around the fire, staring at the flames, each lost in their own thoughts. A tear slipped down Kaija’s cheek and she tried to wipe it away without anyone seeing, but she was too late.
‘Kaija? What’s wrong?’ Tarin asked. He looked at her uncertainly. ‘Are you sorry we left? I know it meant leaving your mother behind . . .’
‘No.’ Kaija sniffed and shook her head. ‘It’s not that. She has her own life to lead, and Luuka and I have our own lives.’
‘Then what is it?’ Luuka put an arm around her shoulder. ‘You’re shaking.’
‘The sky!’ she said, as more tears rolled down her cheeks. ‘The sky is dancing!’
The boys looked up and realised she was right. Green and creamy white swirled and danced.
Kaija sighed deeply and happily. ‘I asked the Great Mother for a sign we had made the right decision,’ she said. ‘And this time . . . She answered me.’
Their way took them through a golden landscape of gently undulating fells and braided waterways and streams. Fish were plentiful, and so far they hadn’t had to use any of their travelling supplies. By the edge of a lake one late afternoon, Tarin fell to his knees.
‘What’s wrong?’ Kaija ran to him. ‘Is it your leg?’
Tarin laughed and showed her his find. Tiny golden globes that burst with sweetness in his mouth.
‘Golden berries,’ he said. ‘They are Saara’s favourites. She says they look like little golden clouds.’
They picked as many berries as they could and decided to camp for the night by the lake. A stiff wind ruffled the surface, and on the other side, the mountains and rolling hills were already capped with snow. A herd of reindeer stopped to drink at the water’s edge and nibble on the lichen-encrusted rocks.
‘What do you think?’ Luuka said. ‘Should we try for one?’
‘We don’t need the meat,’ Tarin said. ‘And we can’t stop to treat the hide.’
So they let the herd pass and contented themselves with fish and smaller prey such as fat lemmings and hares. Eagles wheeled overhead and occasionally they saw elk and deer. Wolves were around. They heard them at night, and some- times saw their eyes glowing in the dark, but Rohk and Nilkka and their fire kept them at bay.
They were passing through a wide river valley edged by woodland when they came across a pack of wolves that had brought down a roe deer. The pack was small, only four adults and a juvenile, but they were hungry and hostile to the intruders.
‘We should back away, very slowly,’ Luuka said. ‘No sudden movements.’ He called Rohk and Nilkka to him sharply and made them stay near. They had no wish to antagonise the pack. The adults watched them warily, snarling deep in their throats, but made no move to attack. They were intent on their kill, and wouldn’t have bothered with the intruders, except for the juvenile. Eager to prove himself, he launched himself at Rohk. The two wolves locked in battle and rolled in a frenzy of teeth and snapping jaws. Another wolf came to join in, but Kaija swung her sling at the same time Tarin cast a spear. The attacking wolf fell. The juvenile had had enough. He limped away and the rest of the pack fled.
&nbs
p; It was a young male that had fallen, not much older than the juvenile, and his fur was black as night.
Luuka shook Kaija by the shoulder. ‘A sling?’ he said angrily. ‘You could have been killed.’
‘I didn’t have time for my spear, and I knew you or Tarin would back me up.’
Tarin was busy skinning the wolf. ‘He’s all skin and bone, but his fur is thick. We shouldn’t waste this.’
Luuka nodded and investigated the roe deer. It was a fresh kill. The stomach had been ripped open and the throat savaged. He cut chunks of meat off the rumps.
‘Roast deer for dinner,’ he said. ‘But let’s not camp here in case the wolves come back.’
The first snow fell that night – soft, gentle flakes that covered the hills in a dusting of white. They had disappeared by mid-morning. Still, it was enough to worry Tarin.
There were fewer waterways to cross now because a lot of small streams were icing over. The larger waterways were shallow, but the water was frigid. After each crossing they took the time to rub their feet and legs briskly, and often made tea to keep themselves warm. They took a day to make repairs to their boots and lacings, and Tarin scraped the wolf fur clean. They had no time to treat the leather, but simply cut it into strips and lined their boots with the soft fur. The rocky ground was harsh on their footwear, and the bison fur wraps they had made last Winter with the Esi were growing thin.
They were ten days out from the trader’s camp when the weather took a turn for the worse. Heavy rain fell, as though the clouds had simply opened, and a strong wind whipped the driving rain against them so they couldn’t see where they were going. They had no choice but to make camp. But the wind was so strong that each time they tried to erect their tent, the wind would tear it from their hands. In the end, they huddled together and wrapped the hide tent completely around and over their heads, tucked it under their feet, and waited out the storm.