by Watson, Tom
The group set forth carrying a cargo of about a hundred furs of different sizes. Most were small, but of high quality. They were mink, fox, and beaver, as well as five small handful sized bags of the yellow rocks and various odds and ends of value. Ana had crafted nearly twenty colorful bone beads, and Sv'en had made little animal toys from antlers. The party was sure to return with a rich bounty.
Two hunters were sent forward, and one to the rear to act as fore and rear guards. They only carried about half of their usual load, alternating with the other men, each day. Ambushes and attacks on traders were not common, but neither were village massacres and Ember had seen one of these personally. She welcomed the protection, knowing that hunters were far ahead leaving signs in the dirt to tell the party what was ahead.
The first five days of walking were a dull march through thick forests and hard lands. Ember had experienced some bodily issues towards the end of those first five days. Ember, nursing a headache, paced along avoiding the thick branches and brush. She had never really gone so far from the river and had not realized how “thick” the world of trees really was. The climb out of the river valley had taken the entire first day. Nor'Gar had explained that if the trip were straight on a level ground, like the river bed, the entire journey would have taken a little over a ten-day, walking from sun up until sun down. With the hard lands and brush, it would take perhaps twice that long, walking all day. It would be cold before they arrived. All of the people, but Ember, had cold gear. She would require such items made for her on the way and with Kis’tra's help she would do just that each night as they rested. She only hoped her head would stop hurting between now and then.
Chapter 13: Travelers
Modern convenience is all too often taken for granted. Ember and her friends would have to walk perhaps 350 miles (560 km) from southern Germany to Middle Eastern France. Today, such a trip would require several hours of driving or perhaps fourteen days of hard walking on paved roads. In Ember's time, the same trip would possibly have taken the group twenty or more days traveling at an average speed of 2 MPH (3.22 km/h). This speed may seem slow, but without roads; paths would need to be hacked though the wilderness and every mile would be many times more difficult to walk than on a flat paved road.
Besides the reduced walking speed associated with hiking through open wilderness, the travel time was also increased for families with children or the elderly. Everyone in Nor'Gar's group was young and in good shape, and Nor'Gar was still in agreeable shape, but he would be close to his last trek. The general fitness of the group and having lived their entire lives in what modern people might term, “the wilds”, aided Nor'Gar's band of traders in their trip south at a reasonably fast pace.
When traveling on foot, bodily concerns are amplified. During twenty or more days of walking, a significant number of the women in the party should experience their menstruation, a difficult task while hiking. If a woman were pregnant, the problems would be much worse. These and more concerns were ever present issues in ancient times and are quite overlooked and underrated today. Luckily for the group, these sorts of concerns were well known and accounted for. People simply had to look out for each other.
Six days into the journey, a dreaded event occurred. Ember had lost track of the last time she had dealt with her problem, but it always seemed to reappear about the time she forgot how long it had been. The morning of the sixth day, she had awoken to a splitting headache, worse than she had been having the previous few days, and a rumble in her lower stomach. After a quick trot into the woods and the local stream, Ember knew she would have to make preparations. It had been more than two ten-days, she guessed, since the last time she had experience her female pains. As she walked around the makeshift camp holding her head, she was approached by a concerned Kis’tra.
“What, wrong. Ember head, hurt?” Kis’tra said. Ember gave her a sigh and a knowing look while rubbing her hand across her lower stomach. Kis’tra still looked puzzled, so Ember raised her eyebrows and gave Kis’tra a smirk...
oohhh now she understands, Ember thought. Kis’tra gave Ember an offhanded smile and held up a hand summoning her to follow. Kis’tra knew just how to take care of these problems.
Kis’tra led Ember away from the main body of people and behind a large tree. She shuffled through her backpack producing two long and wide leather strips. Each was made from the same soft and thin type Ember's breechcloth was made, perhaps mink, she supposed. Ember knew what to do at this point. Most of the women in her tribe used such wider breechcloths in conjunction with long dry grasses to keep their troubles under control. Often, women simply kept themselves within their longhouses during this time. Movement could be painful and at the least uncomfortable for most women, and the smell was another issue. Ember was fortunate to not have as bad of troubles as many in her tribe, but the prospect of walking with the group was not comforting.
She immediately felt guilty for worrying over her own problems when she caught sight of E'lyse and Gar'ath. E'lyse and her husband Gar'ath were more “free spirited” than even Kis’tra and Zhek, and E'lyse was already showing signs of a coming baby. How could she complain about something every woman dealt with every few ten-days when E'lyse was walking with a child on the way? Poor Gar'ath had taken to carrying all of her load and his own so she could concentrate only on keeping the unborn baby safe. She had become with-child somewhere on the journey to the warm season camp, at least eighteen ten-days ago, and she had braved the most dangerous early part of pregnancy during the warm season while sitting and cooking. At the time, such was possible, but now she was forced to walk. Ember's sympathy lasted until the first cramp.
If I could just get “knocked up”, I could at least get rid of this headache, she mused to herself. Ember rarely thought about having a child, but she knew it was a very likely outcome. Most women would find a man and soon afterward a child would be born. There were fears associated with pregnancy. Sometimes a woman would catch a sweating sickness and die or simply die during child birth. All too often, a child would be born already dead. As if that was not enough, there was the pain. Ember had watched many women giving birth and the pain they experienced seemed incredible. Even when Ember didn't watch, she could hear the screaming throughout her village. A birth was never a secret.
The next few days brought pain and suffering that only Kis’tra could appreciate as the two walked, staying towards the back. Ember was forced to make “special” stops several times a day to change the breechcloth and clean herself. This was a task much easier for Ember than for other women. Ember had always thanked the Gods for this special little reprieve she enjoyed. Unfortunately, her stomach continued to bother her and she felt a bit bloated.
During the journey, two other women experienced the same trials as Ember. They appreciated having the men walk in the front as they were not comfortable with the men seeing their little issues here and there. During the nights, the group slept under the stars with good, but cooling, weather. Nor'Gar explained to Ember that the weather became warmer as one journeyed south. He told Ember tails of places far south where the days were always warm and the cold season never seemed to fully arrive. Unfortunately for Ember, the group would not be heading that far south.
With thoughts of the coming cold, Ember and Kis’tra set to work constructing cold weather clothing for Ember. During each night, the two women worked to make a pair of dark rabbit fur mittens and a matching dark rabbit fur hat. The hat was actually an interesting creation. Ember's people did have something like it, a simple folded leather cap, but this hat was far more impressive. The hat was sort of a cone shape, with the bottom folded back up into the hat, making a band of thick fur around the forehead. Ember found the hat quite warm and stylish too. Ember had been worried about using some of the furs, but Tor'kal had shown her a full sack of the yellow rocks she had personally found. They would trade for the same value as fifty of the pelts, easily.
A little less than two ten-days after leaving the camp
, the group had walked a considerable distance. The weather still held most days, but Ember had had to wear a deer hide draped over her like a smock with arm holes on several occasions, and most of the nights. The weather was becoming cold and forcing Ember to bundle tightly, but she couldn't deny that her new garb was quite fanciful. She had spent a few moments during a break looking at herself in a pool of water: Her red hair was tied in a ponytail, tousled this way and that way, and flowing from the sides of her pointy bowl-shaped dark rabbit fur hat. Ember wore a soft leather loincloth which was held in place by a thong waist cord. The excess of the loincloth draped far enough to poke out from under the front of her knee-length soft leather skirt, and her doe skin shirt. Her tanned legs were exposed only a hands length before disappearing into the large leather boots Kis’tra had given her. Her hands were gloved in dark rabbit fur mittens, and around her body she wore a deer hide “vest-tunic”. Ember had added the finishing touches to her look with several feathers she had found, loosely hanging from her hair, and painted black dots across her face.
Ember was fully geared now for cold weather travel. All in all, Ember was fine as long as the rain didn't fall, and the wind didn't blow. During such times, members of the group would wear reed mats, large pieces of old worn leather, or even large cut sections of tree bark, to escape the water. Footwear was created especially for wet weather and had to be worn in place of regular boots if anything was worn at all. Often, feet would be exposed in the rain and footwear hidden safe from the rain, but only for a short time. After a short while, if the rain didn't subside, the group would find shelter and camp. Feet could be warmed by a fire, but wet footwear could be damaged and walking in water-logged footwear, or even barefoot, was a sure way to become sick, or even develop foot ailments.
Ember had seen a man from her own tribe, by the name of Southern Breeze, who had made a long journey with a felled deer during the cold season with improper boots. When he returned, he became very ill and spent many days by a fire recovering. His feet were bright red with dark patches and smelled oddly. Southern Breeze had recovered, though his feet always seemed odd afterward and he walked with a limp. Ember remembered hearing the details of the story from his daughter, Cool Winds, while the two girls played by the river.
The long days were passed thinking of better times or talking with Kis’tra. Each night, Sv'en or Tor'kal would instruct Ember on how to fire her bow. She was much better with the bow than either of the men had expected, taking to it almost immediately. The operation was simple enough: you merely nock an arrow, fitting the bow string into the notched bit of wood at the back end of the arrow behind the feather fletching. The bow would be drawn and gently lifted towards the target. When Ember had calmed her breath and felt the target was within aim, she simply let loose the bow string. Without err, the arrow flew. Ember was somewhat bothered by how easily the weapon could be wielded. The act of shooting something was so simple, so casual. Ember thought of Pak pointing his bow at her and how easily he could have fired. The thoughts brought chills up her spine.
As the group moved, the large thick trees Ember used for practice began to diminish. This was probably for the best as arrows require constant maintenance, especially after hitting a tree. Typically, Ember used what Sv'en called “play arrows”. These arrows had a thick and heavy bit of wood shaped like a stone arrow head and tied to the tip in place of a real arrowhead. The wood tip mostly simulated a normal arrowhead and the wood could be fire many times before becoming too damaged to use. A good stone arrowhead might easily fracture into bits if it was fired at a tree.
Ember had noticed the change in the landscape from dark forests to wide rolling hills and smaller trees. She had expected some greater demarcation between the north and the south, but really the “south” was just a continuation of the “north” as far as she could tell. The only real difference was the lack of her Beloved River and slight changes in the thickness of the foliage.
As the troop moved forward, they came over the top of a hill where a man was seen off in the distance waving at them from beside a large wooden pole. When the group approached, they recognized the man as Al'Gar, one of the hunters sent forward to scout. Those few who had made this trip before understood what he had found, but Nor'Gar explained for those who didn't know. Everyone gathered around Nor'Gar with eager expressions.
“That is the marker for traders coming south or heading north. It means that we are intersecting a trade route. While we are in the Mighty Valley, we cannot become easily lost, but once this valley ends, which way should we go? This valley we are in comes to a small opening here and, so the marker has been placed where it will be most likely found. The answer is provided for us by other travelers. We can walk towards the landmark carved on the pole to find the next point. Traders have used these for countless generations.”
Kis’tra listened, and then translated for Ember's sake, even though Ember actually understood some of what he had said, for she had been working on expanding her vocabulary in these people's strange guttural language. In many ways, their language actually had similarities to her own, if not a touch thicker. She had only recently started to notice the same patterns in their speech. The people of Tornhemal had a native language very different from the trade language. The trade language was a mix of words from other languages, blended in a way. Many action words were combined in ways Ember disliked. Nor'Gar had explained that the words had come from the far south with the traders and were not like those of the river people, such as Ember's or the eastern river peoples; there was another great river farther to the east than the Great River.
When the group had met up with Al'Gar, each person took a moment to examine the pole. It had rotted at the base and would probably need replacing soon. The day was coming to an end, so Nor'Gar informed the group that they would be staying here tonight and replacing the post. It was the responsibility of travelers to keep the markers working and the wooden markers tended to rot away quickly enough. The grounds near the marker had the look of having been used for this purpose often. The ground was smoothed, and the fire pit holes were well worn. Tor'kal set to work with felling a small tree nearby and limbing it to make a new pole. Unfortunately, these markers only lasted a few seasons at best, but using a fresh tree and a little work, the next few groups passing would find their way.
It was dark when Sv'en set to work carving the landmark into the new pole, about the size of a man. The land mark was a low mountain peak far off in the distance. A line shaped like a snake pointed the way in case the weather prevented seeing the mountain. Nor'Gar explained that the south had a large expanse of these mountains which separated the “True South” from the colder south.
The true south was a journey across perilous peaks of ice and snow into lands of warmth and sun. It was said that a tribe in the true south could live with never-ending supplies of food and ever-warm seasons. Perpetual warm days sounded great to Ember. She had spent the long cold march dreaming of running free through long green grass wearing nothing but a smile and a blanket of warm wind and sun. She would love to spend her days jumping into cool waters and swimming until her heart was content. Unfortunately, the trip to the True South sounded much more deadly and cold than what she had to deal with now.
The next morning, the group quickly packed up and resumed their journey, finally leaving the valley they had spent at least five days within. Proceeding out of the valley, the troop saw villages along a small river, which flowed half way between their camp of the previous night and the mountain, which was too far to be seen in any detail. Ember could see people in the small villages working and carrying on their daily tasks much as she would have been if she had not started this journey. Several times, Ember saw a local waving back at Nor'Gar's group.
“Ember, you-will like South. Men, Women, dance. Much color, shells, feathers,” Nor'Gar was getting better with his trade tongue. Ember responded using words from both languages, allowing a greater vocabulary and the ability to speak withou
t as much of the strange conjoined words the trade language used.
“I-like South because, people of-Tornhemal, are here.” Nor'Gar took the compliment with a smile as Aya simmered not far behind. She had been increasingly moody of late. She fell back to Ven'Gar's side and grabbed at his hand.
“She has become quite a friend of Nor'Gar, don't you think?” she said.
“It would seem. It's like she was his long lost daughter or daughter he never had,” Ven'Gar said. “Nor'Gar's wife died long ago in child birth. Perhaps that has something to do with it,” he pondered aloud. Aya frowned, wanting to suggest something more sinister.
“I think they look more like lovers. I would bet that he...” Aya was interrupted as Ven'Gar suddenly grabbed her by the shoulder and whipped her around so fast that she almost fell over.
“You Will Never Speak That Way About Our Leader! You may say what you wish about anyone else, but never about High Hunter Nor'Gar!” he said leveling a dangerous glare at Aya. Aya was not afraid of Ven'Gar and knew he would never harm her, but she had to balance her manipulations and his anger at her suggestions. One poorly chosen statement, like the one she had just made, and she could lose her chance at position. Aya's chest heaved with a quick burst of fury, when suddenly she realized that Ven'Gar was looking down upon her with an odd sort of superior moral authority, and from a full head taller. Aya wondered why she had just thought that, but she quickly dismissed the notion. Aya's chest resumed its regular patterns, though she felt very angry and a little afraid, perhaps merely frightened by the sudden events. Aya backed away and fell back to the end of the group to stew. She burned like a crackling fire, too lost in her immediate anger to plot, but later she would get back to doing just that.