Wolf's Brother

by Megan Lindholm

  The words had tumbled from Heckram's lips without pause. Now he stood before her, his eyes black in the night. He lifted a hand toward her, as if asking forgiveness. She seized it.

  'He's sent Kerlew on a vision-quest. I know that much of the shaman. He spoke of it often when we lived among Benu's folk. He encouraged the young men to fast for long periods, and then to isolate themselves from the tribe and seek a vision. It was a way of gaining spirit protection.'

  'That would be why the boy looked so thin lately,' Heckram said slowly. 'A long fast and then ... but Kerlew is not old enough to be sent out alone for such a thing. Nor wise enough.'

  'It matters little to Carp. Unless the boy comes back with a vision, he cannot be a shaman. If he isn't a najd, he's no use to Carp. Kerlew used to mutter about it when he thought I was asleep. Visions and guardian animals. Where would he go?'

  Tillu's question was despairing, not seeking an answer. Silence stretched long and brittle. Then Heckram spoke in unwilling answer. 'To the Najd's Steps.'

  'What?'

  'I had not thought of it in years. It is a dare game that some boys still play at. There is a part of the Cataclysm that is all buckled stone. Not a grain of soil, not a stem of grass grows there. It is all a tumble of black sharp-edged stones, like a torrent of rock down the Cataclysm's face, and above it a sheer rise of stone, broken only by narrow ledges. When I was very small and there were summer storms, the old folk used to say the ancient najd was angry. The tale was that he had gone up the steps to speak with the sky spirits and never come back. That he was up there still, and looked down on the herdfolk and would know if one was less than honest or brave.'

  He looked down into Tillu's face. She came into his arms, shivering at his words. 'The other boys used to challenge one another, when adults weren't around. No one was supposed to climb the Najd's Steps. To do so was ... more than unlucky. The najd might send something to steal you from your tent if you dared his steps. So, of course, boys did.' He paused, then added, almost ashamed, 'Except for me. I heard about it, but my days were too full of chores to run and play with the others. Then I heard one day that Joboam had gone higher than anyone else had ever gone, to the very top. And to mark the top of his climb, he had left on the highest step a bronze wristband that his father had just given him. All the boys could talk of nothing else, for days. Joboam went about saying that he had proved forever that he was the bravest of us all.'

  'It must have chafed you, to hear them brag of what you could not even try.' Despite her worries, Tillu had been caught up in the story.

  Heckram choked down a laugh. 'It did. It did for days. Until one drizzly morning, I rose before anyone else, and tried myself against the Najd's Steps. They were slippery in the damp, and once I looked down and all the camp was hidden in mist. As if I climbed through the very clouds. But I was stubborn and pushed on. At first I had had some vague dream that the other boys in the camp would look up and see me high up the Najd's Steps. Now I knew they couldn't, that I would be hidden by the mist and the steepness of the climb. But I went on. For myself. And I discovered two things.'

  He paused, forcing Tillu to ask, 'What?'

  'There is a place where the steps narrow and work out across the face of the Cataclysm. Too narrow a place for me to safely go. Or Joboam. A place a smaller boy might walk, but not he or I. And at the narrowing place is where I found his wristband. Not at the top of the Najd's Steps. So I took it. And then I pressed myself flat against the rock face, and I went beyond it. Five steps beyond it. I counted them. And then I discovered the other thing. At the end of the Najd's Steps.'

  Somewhere a small animal screamed as talons found it. Tillu started as if she felt the claws in her own back. Heckram held her closer.

  'The najd is still there,' he whispered. 'The steps stop. But beyond them is a tiny niche, less than a cave, in the cliff's face. And in that place, with his basket and his magic tokens spread before him, is the najd. Crouching and grinning out over the Cataclysm and the herdfolk below.'

  Tillu gasped in horror, then asked, 'What did you do then?'

  'I left it alone. Even I was smart enough to know no good could come of meddling with a najd's bones. But I scratched my mark there on the wall of the Cataclysm. And I worked my way back off the narrow place and back onto the steps. And I came down. That evening, I went to Joboam's father's tent. With his father looking on, I said, 'I found this today. Isn't it yours?' And I gave him back his wristband.'

  'And you wonder why he hates you,' Tillu said softly.

  'Not really. He had his revenge. He told the herdlord that I had been making mock of the Najd's Steps, playing there. He was very angry and scolded me before all the elders. Ristin was furious that I had taken such a chance, and made sure my chores kept me too busy to try it again. But I did not mind. For all that, Joboam and I both still know that his wristband was not on the top step. That he was not as brave as he had said he was.'

  'And you think Kerlew would go there?'

  'I do. Joboam would make sure of it, if he thought of it. It is not an easy place to return from.'

  A silence fell, but when Tillu opened her lips to speak, Heckram bent to swiftly kiss her. He held her close as he spoke. 'But we will both come down, tomorrow. The night is mild, and the lower steps are easy for a boy Kerlew's size. I will let him have his night on the Najd's Steps. He won't go very high. I know you will worry. But you must understand these dares are important to a boy. And he has his own kind of wisdom. He will be safe. And tomorrow I will bring him down to you.'

  'You are sure of this?'

  Honesty saddened his eyes. 'No. But it is the best I can do. In the dark, a man my size would not get one-third of the way up the Steps.' He could see her thoughts. 'And you yourself would not even get that far. One has to have seen it by daylight to climb it. In this false light, it would be suicide. Besides ...' He paused. 'To bring Kerlew down now would be to take something from him, something he might never find again. He has to have this night alone, on the Najd's Steps, Tillu.'

  She understood, but unwillingly. There was nothing she could do for her son this night. Tillu sighed deeply and leaned into Heckram's chest. Kari broke suddenly into her thoughts. 'Heckram. What do the herdfolk say about a woman being, forced into a joining she does not want?'

  His brows knit at the abrupt change of subject. After a moment he replied, 'It very seldom happens. Sometimes, a woman desires a man who is already joined to another. So, she takes another man instead. It is sad, but it happens. Sometimes they learn to get along, though. Look at Ibb and Bror. It is gossiped that Ibb took him only because no one else asked her. But they are long and happy years they have shared.'

  'But if the woman did not want the joining at all? If she hated the idea, but her parents insisted?'

  His mind leaped the gap. 'Kari is that unhappy?'

  Tillu nodded. 'She wanted me to cut her nose off this evening. So Pirtsi wouldn't take her.'

  Heckram's expression reflected his dismay at the idea. 'But she is right,' he conceded. 'Pirtsi is too vain to take a disfigured woman. He'd find a way out.'

  'Then you think I should do it?' Tillu asked in horror.

  'No!' Heckram was vehement. 'She should go to Stina or old Natta. One of the older herdwomen. Or several of them. She should say she is being forced, and that she is truly unhappy. They'll be swift to take her side. They've been on their own long enough to know that sometimes a woman is better alone than bedded with someone like Pirtsi. And neither of them like the boy, anyway. Capiam will be very unhappy when they come to him, and greatly embarrassed. But he can't stand against them, nor can Ketla. If he did, those women would raise such an outcry as would have every woman in the gathered folks angered and impatient with the men. Better embarrassment than the whole folk disturbed. Old women will not be ignored.'

  'You mean this? This is true, among the herdfolk?'

  'So it has always been. Didn't you know that? I recall Ristin mentioned some time ago that sh
e thought Kari was unhappy. But no one was sure. Sometimes a woman pretends reluctance to make a man more attentive. Send her to Ristin, if you wish. She'll know which matriarchs will scare Capiam the most.'

  She hugged him suddenly, tightly. With her face pressed against him, she said, 'I did not even know why I was running to you tonight. But you had the answers, to all my fears. I think I shall even be able to sleep a little this night.'

  He stooped suddenly, lifted her off her feet. The strength of his arms around her, the ease with which he held her made her feel, not weak, but protected by his strength. She put his arms around his neck and hugged him close. He nodded toward the new tent. 'Sleep? I have a better idea,' he whispered.

  She clung to him, teasing herself with the idea. 'I can't,' she murmured against his neck. His skin was salt against her mouth. 'I have to go back to Capiam's tent. I have to talk to Kari.'

  'No,' he chided her. His hands supported her against him, sent warmth flowing across her skin in waves. 'Don't tell Kari now. She'd run right to Stina and Natta, wake them from a sound sleep, and sound like a foolish girl with marriage jitters. Have her go in the cool gray of morning, dressed sensibly and talking calmly. They must see her as a determined woman, not as a willful teasing girl.'

  'Mm,' she said into his neck. She could not decide if his reasoning was sound or if she merely wanted it to be so that she could linger here with him. And Kerlew ...

  'And stop fretting about Kerlew. If you will not believe as I do, that there is something about the boy that brings him through danger unscathed, then have faith in what you yourself have taught him. The boy is cautious to a fault. Let him have this bit of a dare; the other boys will hear of it, and respect him for it. But not if his parents run to fetch him down.'

  A great stillness spread through Tillu's body. He could not have meant what he had so casually implied. He had been speaking in generalities. But never had any man ever spoken so of Kerlew, thoughtfully, as if he were a boy to be raised instead of a problem to be solved. A small part of herself hackled possessively; but within bloomed the perception that Heckram might know more of being a boy than she could.

  He took her silence for assent. The top of the tent door brushed her head. He set her gently on her feet and stood in silence. She looked around. It was a man's tent, sternly practical. The one traveling chest in it was dark and scarred and plain. She wondered what had become of Elsa's unfinished trunk, then pushed the thought away. There was nothing here that was not Heckram. She saw him in the tidy pallet and the simple implements of his life. Then he touched her, his callused fingers running softly down her bare arm and setting her skin singing. The simple touch, the smell of man in the tent, the gentle glow of the coals on the hearth undid the catches on her self-control. The frustrated imaginings of the last few days rose rampant. Urgency seized her.

  There was no time for careful undressing. She sensed his surprise as she tugged his shirt open and ran greedy hands over his chest. Her mouth followed them, and the taste of his skin made her dizzy. His tiny nipples stood up beneath her tongue. She felt him take a sudden breath. His hands ran down her back, slipped up inside her shirt. Callused fingers stroked her breasts. She wondered who this woman was, who did not hesitate under his touch, but only felt her heat rise higher. Fear this man? His body seemed a part of her own already, hers to touch and use. It was natural to show him her wants, to guide one of his big hands down her belly. His hand slipped lower, exploring, and she held suddenly still, her mouth on his skin, her eyes closed. He moved so slowly, so carefully. But she was suddenly ready, more ready than she had ever been and unwilling to wait any longer. So a herdwoman could say who she would join? A woman could decide such things? Then ... She fumbled at the fastening of his trousers, dragging them down to expose his readiness. 'Tillu,' he murmured in pleased rebuke as she pushed him toward the bedding. She heard herself laugh softly, the sound of a woman who had taken possession of the moment and knew no fear. Her own boldness and his delighted response amazed her, feeding her aggression. She pulled him down onto the bedding, but was astonished when he rolled onto his back, ceding control to her. She hesitated.

  'Shy?' Laughter behind his challenge.

  She met his eyes frankly, found that she, too, could smile. Mating, she realized, did not have to be so serious a thing. Had only to be whatever they wanted to make it. 'No,' she discovered aloud. 'But I'm not going to make all the efforts, either.'

  'The second time, I'll do the work,' he promised, and pulled her down laughing atop him.

  KERLEW: THE VISION

  He sat quite still, his knees drawn up to his bony chest. Kerlew's buttocks were cold against the stone, but he didn't move. Moving didn't help. He was cold all over, he ached and his head felt light. Even when he sat still, he quivered. The shaking had been worst during the long climb; now it had settled down to a humming, like bees crawling over his skin. The only thing he didn't feel was hungry. Yesterday he had stopped feeling the pangs and nausea of extreme hunger. That was how Carp had known he was ready. He thought of food, of boiled eggs or meat seared hot. His stomach squeezed with revulsion. No. He wasn't interested in food anymore.He braced his feet and pushed his back against the cold stone. He wasn't going to look down again. In the dimness of night, he hadn't minded so much. The tiny red fires below had not been, so different from the far stars above. Above. Below. He chuckled foolishly. Here he was, up again when he wanted to go down. Up the stone ridges, to the top of the Najd's Steps, when he needed to go down, into the caverns of the spirit world. He had tried to ask Carp about that, but the old najd had only flapped his question away with his leathery hand. He had been so impatient with Kerlew lately. Chasing him outside so he could talk alone with Joboam, commanding silence when he asked about Kari or his mother. As if Kerlew didn't know what Carp and Joboam spoke of when they were alone. He knew. Spirits whispered to him while he slept, secrets crept into his ears. But Carp no longer wanted to hear what the spirits whispered in his dreams. Carp wanted only to eat, to wear fine garments, to chant and dance before all the people. He had no time for Kerlew's questions or objections.

  'Just do,' he had said. 'Do what I tell you and do not wonder. You will know the place when you see it. When you get there, do what seems right, and wait for a vision. You may have to wait several days and nights. But do not be discouraged, nor afraid. Stay there, and stay awake until your vision comes. Do not sleep, do not eat, drink nothing. Only wait. Then the vision will come. And you will be a najd.'

  Then he had given Kerlew the little yellow root to chew. And sent him across the hummocky meadows to the base of the stone steps. When? A long, long time ago. He tried to put boundaries on the time. It had been morning at first. Then it had been the warm part of a day. He wasn't sure if there had been evening. But now there was a night. Or was this a morning? He opened his eyes quickly. He had to stay awake. And yes, it was day again, almost. He wondered why this day was still so cold. Down below, gray smoke rose from the domed tents. Tiny reindeer milled around in a pen, chased by a single man. Usually many men chased them. It made no sense to Kerlew, but the herdfolk did it every day, and it was very exciting to watch. The plunging hooves of the animals threw up mud or dust, and the men and women chasing them yelled and fell and wrestled the animals in it. Kerlew wished he could be there now, but Carp had said he must go find a vision. He looked down again at the pen. The man had stopped chasing the reindeer. They churned around in the middle of the pen for a short time, then gathered in a corner. No more excitement. He wasn't missing anything. So wait for the vision.

  How long?

  As long as it took. There was no going down until he had the vision. Kerlew settled back with vague resignation. He glanced once more at his companion. Was he still waiting for his vision? He hadn't spoken to Kerlew. He simply sat, his knees drawn up to his chest. A basket was beside him. Before him were many fine and wondrous things. There was a knife, with a blade of shining black. Some painted bones. A bundle of draggled
feathers, tied in a bouquet with faded string and bright beads still. The shriveled talons of a hawk. But the best of all was between his two bony knees. A small round drum, such as Carp drummed upon. But better. Kerlew had never known there could be a drum better than Carp's. The leather drum head was fuzzed with green mold. But it didn't hide the faded figures in red and blue. Kerlew stared at it enviously. Reindeer. Those were reindeer, and behind them were men, long men painted in blue and red. The small hammer had fallen from the bony fingers that clutched the drum. It lay on the stony floor of the niche. One end was shaped like the curled foot of a bird, the other like a raven's head and beak. Kerlew thought of picking it up. No. This bone najd might be angry if he did that. He glanced warily at the najd, but the najd only smiled the wider.

  Kerlew lifted a finger to touch his own teeth, to outline the hidden sockets of bone around his eyes. Yes. His face was like that face, but hidden behind flesh. A mask of skin, he was wearing a mask of skin, but that najd had taken his off and greeted Kerlew bare-faced. Kerlew grinned back at him, trying to show his teeth as wide. When he had first crawled in here, the old najd had frightened him. But he had sat very still beside him, all night long, because this was the end of the steps, there was nowhere else to go, but he couldn't go back without a vision. Maybe this was the vision. Maybe this was what he was supposed to take back with him. No. Carp would have told him more plainly. After a moment, he was sure of it.

  'Did you never have your vision?' Kerlew asked the grinning najd. The najd didn't answer, but Kerlew began to feel friendly toward him. He had such fascinating things. And he asked nothing of Kerlew. He didn't eat while making Kerlew stay hungry. He didn't demand he fetch wood or tend a fire. He didn't send him out of the tent into the cold night. He didn't tell him to find a vision. No. This was a very kind najd, who shared his niche with Kerlew. Kerlew liked him. He patted him gently on the shoulder. Dust rose from his feathered mantle, skin crackled and bones shifted beneath his hand. Kerlew took his hand away swiftly. He hadn't liked that sound. Like a bone drum. The old najd was like a hollow bone drum. Bone drum.