Juniper put down his belongings. ‘There’s nothing to be afraid of. They treated me like a god!’
But Oak was still angry so they hung their hides across several thick branches and secured them with woven grass. Juniper looked into his bag and laughed.
‘They’re poppy seeds. Can’t you see? They’ll make us sleep.’
He picked up a handful and crammed them into his mouth and when Oak had tried them they lit a small fire and ate seed and bone soup. Then they climbed up the tree and lay side by side on their hides. At last, as the leaves stirred above them like a green waterfall and pigeons cooed, Oak relaxed. Juniper stared up at the stargods journeying from leaf to leaf.
‘One day we’ll tell our children about this.’ He paused. ‘We’re only at the beginning.’
Oak smiled sleepily. ‘We might arrive soon.’
‘I didn’t mean our journey. I mean the beginning of—of everyone.’
Oak picked a leaf and threw it at Juniper.
‘We’re at the end. Birch says when our family goes there won’t be anyone else.’
Juniper reached up and picked another leaf.
‘This is only one of many.’ He pointed to the shower of leaves above them. ‘Before winter there were other leaves. Afterwards there’ll be more. Leaves come and go and they never stop—unless winter comes forever.’
Oak yawned and closed his eyes. Juniper tore off another leaf and shaped it into Rose with a baby in her belly. He wondered why it was the women who held children in their bodies. He stared at Rose for a long time then shut his eyes. The leaf slipped out of his hand and spiralled down and down to the many leaves below.
They found a river flowing in the same direction as Sungod and followed it as Hornbeam had told them. It was broad and swift-running and fish swam under loose weeds.
‘Like Greenwater,’ said Oak.
Juniper trampled down cotton grass and spike rushes in his effort to watch the water. When Sungod shone warmly overhead they gave up and sat in the shade of a tree and chewed grass seed. Juniper looked round.
‘The land of plenty. Perhaps we should stay here for a while.’
Oak shook his head. ‘We can’t. We must arrive before winter.’
But he too was caught by the spell of the river. He watched Juniper run down to the bank and make a little bison out of mud. Then he lay down under the tree and went to sleep. When he woke the sky had darkened and there was a low growl in the distance.
‘Thundergod.’
They quickly picked up their belongings and hurried into the middle of the field where it was safe. There was a loud crash as if the sky was tearing apart. Lightning showered down and Raingod hovered above the river so they sheltered under their deer hides. Almost at once rain swept over them, pounding fiercely down. The storm seemed to go on forever and when night came Thundergod still shouted angrily and scraped the sky with his lightning. They slept fitfully until the thunder and rain eased off.
Then Oak peeled away the heavy wet skin and crawled out. In the early morning the air was green and fresh and the river was swollen like an eel that had eaten too much. He stared at the tree where they had slept so peacefully in the sun. It had been split open by lightning. Was it a warning from Thundergod?
He walked down to the river. It had seeped into the field and the mud where Juniper had made his bison had sunk under a ridge of water. Oak ran back through the flayed grass. A hare jumped out in front of him, its ears back. Juniper was yawning and rubbing his bad leg. Just beyond him, at the edge of a clump of trees, Oak saw the leaves of a small birch quiver. Was it reindeer or auroch or bison or—? The trees were in deep shadows and he couldn’t tell. But out in the field, half way between the trees and Juniper, he saw a small humped figure in the grass. He ran past Juniper and bent over the small form It was a child, pale and shivering, barely alive. Oak lifted him up and held him carefully.
‘He’s breathing badly.’
Juniper took the child and stretched him out on one of the hides. Oak ground down a liquorice root with a stone knife while Juniper breathed into the child’s mouth and rubbed his thin chest until his heart beat louder. He cradled the child’s head in his lap and forced the liquorice drink down his tiny throat.
The field was steaming in the sun. Wraiths of grey vapour clung to the seed grass and hung over the river.
‘Look at his necklace,’ said Juniper, fingering the bone beads that hung round the boy’s thin neck. ‘See those marks. Crisscrosses. They must mean something.’
Oak screwed up his eyes.
‘What do you mean?’.
‘They’re signs.’ Juniper picked up a twig and incised a line. ‘There’s another sign for you. What does that mean?’
‘Tell me.’
‘I’m hungry, I’m hungry, I’m hungry!’
They both laughed and left the boy to sleep on the hide, while they gathered and ate seed heads that were soggy from the rain.
Chapter 13
HAREMAN
Juniper and Oak leaned over the child and tried to feed him. They didn’t hear the old man come across the grass in bare feet. When they looked up he was standing a little way off, staring at them. He was squat and dark like the people they had already met. He must be friendly, thought Juniper but Oak started back. He didn’t like the hare’s ears that stuck out of the man’s hair. They were attached to a band of grass cord round his head. Half animal, half man, he thought, a beast we don’t know. He stepped further back, almost falling over the boy.
‘Polto,’ said the figure in a low voice as he banged his chest.
Juniper made the same gesture: ‘Juniper. Oak.’
The man said something strange and pointed to the boy.
‘Salvi?’ said Juniper, ‘Salvi?’
The man nodded fiercely and repeated the word. Surely it was Salvi?
Juniper turned to Oak.
‘He’ll help us, Oak, I’m sure he will.’
He turned back to the man. ‘Salvi? Salvi?’
The old man nodded and repeated the word.
‘You’re mad,’ said Oak, tightening his hand round his spear. ‘Madness is in your blood. Come on, we’ll leave them.’
The boy stirred and Polto pointed to a path through the trees. Juniper smiled.
‘He wants me to carry the boy.’
‘It’s a trap,’ said Oak, taking hold of Juniper. ‘He’s using the boy. We have our own journey to make.’
Juniper pushed back his friend.
‘You’ve got it wrong. If I carry the boy he’ll tell us how to find the Salvi. You heard him say Salvi.’
He turned back to the man.
‘Salvi, Salvi!’
The man smiled and nodded and Juniper picked up the boy. Oak cursed. He should have left the child to die. Juniper was already walking towards the trees as if he was in hareman’s power. Oak angrily gathered up their few belongings and trailed behind. Would Juniper always be a foolish boy?
The trees thickened and the old man led them slowly down a rough path marked with the spoor of lion and wolf and fox. Then the trees became greener, the spaces between them wider, and suddenly they were at the edge of the forest where a steep cliff fell abruptly into a plain. The rocky cliff was brown and barren except for tufts of yellow and silver saxifrage that sprang here and there out of the crevices. At the foot of the cliff rocks and boulders surrounded the grassy stretch below. People were scurrying to and fro between hide tents that had been set up beside a small lake. A rut of aurochs wandered about, nosing the grass. It seemed as if the cliff isolated the tribe from the rest of earth. Oak drew Juniper back and spoke urgently. ‘Come to your senses. Once we’ve gone down there we’re trapped. How do we climb up again?’
‘The way we climb down,’ said Juniper impatiently. ‘The old man can’t carry the boy.’
‘We can leave them here. We should be following the river.’
‘Don’t you understand? If we go down they’ll tell us about the Salvi. They’ll help
us because we have helped them.’
Oak swore. He knew he had lost the battle. He felt as if he was following a blind boy.
Polto led them round the cliff top to a more gentle slope where a path zig-zagged down. Ibex and chamois were grazing on the sparse grass and Oak memorized where they were and how the path curved and wound downward. Every few steps he placed a white stone in the middle of the path. The cliff was treacherous and the stones would show up in darktime. There was no knowing! His friend was mad, carried away with the sight of new people, ready to trust them even with his spear.
‘But I have it,’ thought Oak and when they drew near to the family he sat down on one of the rocks and held Juniper’s spear upright, ready to use.
His heart beat fast. The tribe had begun to lay out a circle of weapons round the fire. He didn’t understand.
‘Say I have to commit—’ but he didn’t dare utter the darkest word of all. When Juniper turned back and shouted for him to come on, they would be rewarded, he cursed his friend again and shivered, sitting upright, alert to every movement.
He watched the tribe place the small boy on an ibex hide and bathe his face with water carried in skulls. The men were all squat and walked with a rolling gait. They all wore hares’ ears and ibex skins slung round their waists. Oak was confused. Were they in their ceremonial dress?
In no time the valley became grey and the long shadow of night edged over Oak. He felt the icy wind in the air as he stood up and shouted down to Juniper,
‘We must get back, can you hear me? We must get back.’
But only his own voice replied, answering itself. When the shadow self speaks it’s a bad omen, he thought.
Behind him at the top of the cliff, sunlight still played on the trees and he longed to climb back.
‘Down here it’s like the world under the earth,’ he muttered.
The family sat round the fire on sawn tree trunks and Juniper was with them, eating meat. Oak ached with hunger. He picked seeds out of his bag and sucked on the marrow of a bone. He watched Juniper throw back his head and drink something with relish. Perhaps it was berry juice. Perhaps it was poison. Juniper drank again as the women threw yellow saxifrage flowers over the boy.
Oak watched as carefully as he could but he still couldn’t understand. Now men lifted the boy in his garland of flowers and women carried in more logs and swung them onto the fire. The flames gave a thick red light. Smoke swirled up and travelled over the rocks. For a moment Oak could see nothing. He moved out of the smoke just in time to observe the boy being carried off into the shadows. And there was Juniper, stretched on a bed of sticks with yellow garlands round his neck. He looked fast asleep.
Oak put his hands to his mouth and stiffened. Suddenly everything had become clear. The boy had come back alive and Juniper was the tribe’s offering, their sacrifice to Haregod. If not why would they make him fall asleep and lie him down on a bed of sticks? It was the same everywhere. The gods must always be rewarded.
Once again Oak was screened by the smoke that billowed over the tribe. He watched Polto and several other haremen lift Juniper and parade him round and round the fire. The people chanted a strange, high song.
Oak raised his spear and put it down again. If he killed a man he would be nearer the word of darkness. If he did nothing, Juniper would be thrown onto the fire. The haremen were already swinging Juniper to and fro towards the flames. Oak no longer thought. He raised the spear and aimed at Polto’s heart. Juniper had spent time sharpening the blade and it sang through the air and struck the old man on his side. He fell instantly. The haremen panicked and dropped Juniper and without waiting Oak ran down through the smoke. He pulled the spear out of Polto’s side and menaced the crowd with its sharp stone tip. Then he heaved Juniper over his shoulder and half ran with him back to the rock. Fategod was on his side. A sudden gust of wind billowed the smoke towards him. Under its protection he tied Juniper’s hands together and put the other end of the cord round their belongings. He pushed his head between Juniper’s bound arms, so his friend lay on his bent back while the bundle of skins, bags and weapons dangled in front of him. The weight was huge but it was balanced and although Oak was bent over like a beast he was able to make his way towards the path they had taken.
Darkness was everywhere but as he retraced his steps Moongoddess rose above the cliffs on the other side of the plain and lit up the white stones he had carefully placed to mark out the track.
The deer hides scraped against the rocky path and many times he tripped and thought he might lose his friend. The grass cord began to give way, fibre by fibre and he had to stop to strengthen it with a new piece.
At last he dared to look down. Flames were still spurting into the darkness and several figures were running round the fire shouting and screaming. Oak stretched up and settled the weight over his shoulders, preparing himself to climb the steepest part of all. Here he had placed many white stones, for fear of stumbling into the nearby crevices. The slope steepened and he tried to walk upright so the deer skins did not bump against the ground and loosen the knots. Once he missed his footing and nearly tumbled down a hole, darker than any shadow he had seen. He was saved only because Juniper’s leg caught in a straggling root and his body weight pulled him back.
Oak sat down to recover his strength. From here the fire was small as the marigolds he had seen by the marshy lakes, and he could no longer tell what the people were doing. An ibex appeared out of the dark and gratefully Oak followed him up the path, Juniper’s weight pushing so hard on his back that he too moved on all fours, though not with the ease of the animal he followed. At last he reached the top and stumbled into the trees, too tired to go either forwards or backwards. Gently he rolled Juniper onto a deer hide and felt in his bag for flints and moss. He lit a little fire and fed it with twigs that lay about him. He wanted to stay awake to watch over his friend but he could no longer fight off Sleepgod. He lay down by the fire beside Juniper and let sleep take over his aching limbs.
In his dream men were coming towards him shouting MURDAM MURDAM and he was crying because he had killed a man.
Chapter 14
THE RAFT
At dawn Oak sat up and listened to the wild ducks honking, out of reach as they made for the ends of the earth. He was hungry but any commotion would be dangerous. What avenging Haremen were hiding in the wood, waiting to kill? At his feet a ground squirrel scurried into the undergrowth, a nut in its mouth. He waited patiently and when it returned from its winter hoard he was ready with his sharp stone. The creature dropped on its side and Oak said the killing prayer and built up the fire. The squirrel would taste good! He looked at Juniper and sensed he was stirring from his deep torpor. He was right! Not long afterwards Juniper rubbed his eyes and shook his head.
‘Sacrifice,’ he muttered.’Salvi, salvi. It meant sacrifice!’ He squinted at Oak. ‘How did you save me?’
‘The worst thing. There was no other way.’
‘Who?’
‘Polto.’
Oak put his head in his hands and Juniper reached up to hold them.
‘It wasn’t you, it was me. My evil. You must leave me. Go back to Greenwater! It’s not too late.’
He sat up slowly.
‘It’s different here,’ he said, rubbing his head with his free hand. ‘We don’t belong, we don’t know where we’re going. If Hornbeam was here he’d have done the same. Go back, Oak, go back before I make worse things happen.’
Oak was silent for a while.
‘I can’t,’ he said. He knew now not even Icegoddess could take him from his friend.
Juniper wept and then they shared the meat, packed up their belongings and went silently through the forest. Their other selves walked in front, laid flatly along the ground, taking on the substance of grass and leaf and wood. Sometimes geese called overhead. Oak knew the geese could see the river.
At last they reached the plain beyond the forest. To their relief there was no sign of any harem
en. A bison looked up as they came forward and several deer moved back into the forest.
They were afraid and edged their way cautiously down to the river. All day they followed Sungod until he sank into his other land. Then they travelled on in darkness, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and Polto’s tribe. Moongoddess swam in the water and lit their way.
‘She’s protecting us,’ said Oak, ‘swimming beside us.’
Juniper looked up at the sky and pointed. ‘There she is again. Above and below us. We can’t be in more than one place at a time.’
‘But we carry pictures in our heads,’ said Oak. The river reminded him of Greenwater. Perhaps this was the same river. Perhaps all places were the same if you were with someone you care about. He felt calmer, cleaner.
They went on slowly, surrounded by the yelps and squeals of animals. The river bank grew higher and rockier and it was difficult to walk. When they came to a ledge that leaned out over the water Oak put up his hand.
‘Let’s stop here. No one will find us.’
They staggered under the ledge and lay down. The sounds of water gushed below and Moongoddess pushed her arms through the shrubs that grew up by the ledge.
At dawn Juniper watched Sungod rise over the river, bringing traces of light into the trees and the widening sky. The light was white and pink and tinged the water. He yawned and stretched. If only I was like Oak, he thought.
The cold air marked the beginning of redtime. Hares came up and chased each other across the bank and Juniper scrambled down, waded in the water and caught several fish in his hands. A she-wolf with dried out teats paced down to the water, limping like himself. She too waded in and lapped noisily. Blood streamed from her leg into the water. She stepped out but didn’t shy away. Juniper stared at her sharply. Was she used to humans? He flung her a fish.
Oak sat up and watched them from the bank.
‘She thinks you’re a wolf,’ he laughed. ‘Look at you!’
The Dream Cave Page 7