The Dream Cave

by Susan Holliday

  ‘You’re hairier than me,’ shouted Juniper. They both laughed and turned to each other, aware that at last they were no longer in the shadow of Polto’s death.

  The wolf followed them as they made their way along the river. Trees struck by Thundergod lay across the bank, half submerged in water. They picked their way over rocks and stones and huge roots. The river widened and twigs and branches swirled round and round in its swift currents. The bank steepened and trees grew close to the edge. Bushes stuck out and leaned over the water, beaten and transfixed by Windgod. The spiky grasses were full of insects. Flies clung to their sweaty faces and Oak angrily scratched his head.

  ‘It’d be easier to swim.’

  ‘We’d lose everything in that current.’

  They stooped to watch a branch swirl downstream, towards Sungod. Then Juniper remembered the story Hornbeam had once told him when he was a boy skimming stones on Greenwater.

  ‘Listen to this,’ he told Oak. ‘A long time ago when Icegoddess walked all over earth, there were little patches she missed. That was where the snow melted, and people strung branches together to float on the water . . .’ He spat out the husk of a seed he was chewing. ‘We could float on branches.’

  Oak looked frightened.

  ‘Birch forbade it. You know Rivergod’s too great to bear men on his shoulders.’

  They walked on. The undergrowth was denser and they smelt bear.

  ‘We’d be safer on the river,’ insisted Juniper.

  Clouds of warble flies drove down over their heads. ‘Anything’s better than this,’ he shouted, wiping his

  arm against his face.

  At last Oak gave in. They put down their weapons and hides and cleared a space where they could work. Oak dragged some branches together while Juniper slithered down the cliff to the clumps of reeds that grew in the shallow stretches of water. He cut off leaves and stalks and tied them to himself and clambered back. With these they made strong strands and knotted them together to form a cord. Juniper shaped the branches so they nestled against each other then secured them with cord and interwoven twigs.

  ‘We must finish before nightfall.’

  Oak didn’t reply. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pocked with bites. He went down to bathe in the water. Darkness was already falling. Nearby an owl swung up with a vole in its mouth. Its nest must be in the reeds, he thought. It’s too late for eggs. But voles . . .’

  They finished the raft and roasted fish on their little fire. The wolf sat at a distance, eyeing them until they threw her scraps. Afterwards Juniper told Oak a story about a battle between Pollon and Icegoddess: Pollon deceived Icegoddess by hiding in a little snow hut he made in the middle of a forest. He stayed warm in the hut because its sides were so thick they didn’t melt. A long, long time afterwards Kora the great hunter copied him.

  ‘Icegoddess!’ Oak rubbed his arms. ‘Can you smell her in the air?’

  Juniper nodded and added twigs to the fire. The flames lit up Oak’s face, shadowing the bites and scratch marks. Juniper pounded some plantain leaves and roots and gently pasted the gum over his friend’s face and arms and hands. He made Oak chew poppy seeds to relieve his pain. Afterwards they slung their hides between strong branches and lay down. Stargods wandered overhead and the wolf lay on the grass, a little way off, with her head on her front paws, as if she was guarding them.

  At dawn Juniper tried out the raft. At first it tipped but when he squirmed carefully over to the centre it balanced and floated. He raised his arms in triumph and towed it back to the bank.

  Oak held up their belongings and warily eased himself onto the raft.

  ‘What about her?’ said Juniper, looking back at the wolf.

  ‘How can we take her?’ said Oak impatiently.

  As they drifted down the water they remained still, not daring to move. Sometimes Rivergod pushed them into the banks and Juniper freed them with his spear. Then Oak dangled his spear in the water and found he could direct the raft. This new discovery made them laugh and they began to try things out, pushing first with one spear then with the other. Soon the river was edged with jagged brown rocks and the water rushed rapidly over stones. Sungod was overhead and sparkled in the water. The river became noisier as the raft speeded along.

  The roar grew so loud Oak took hold of the rope and slipped off the raft. It tipped immediately until Juniper pressed towards its centre.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he shouted, as Oak rose and sank in the fierce water.

  ‘Listen to the roar . . .’ Oak struggled to pull the raft to the bank. Suddenly rocks came up towards his feet and he found it hard to stand on the slippery surface. When at last he had a firm foothold he pulled the raft into the bank.

  ‘Come and look,’ he shouted to Juniper.

  A little way ahead the river smoothed and curved out before it crashed down over a pile of rocks. They watched the water fall like a thousand leaves torn from a tree.

  Chapter 15

  MANHUNT

  ‘Keep low,’ whispered Oak, ‘who knows . . ?’

  Across the granite plain stretching behind them bison cropped heather and a woolly rhinoceros nosed the scrub. Its huge belly sagged, its horns curved viciously.

  Juniper staggered a few paces away and vomited. He | dragged himself back to Oak.

  ‘I feel ill. My head’s rolling, my ears are ringing. Rivergod’s inside me.’

  He lay back on the grass and closed his eyes while Oak looked up. Clouds were gathering and the air was icy. Oak pulled Juniper to his feet.

  ‘We must go on,’ urged Oak. ‘Icegoddess is on her way.’

  They carried the raft beyond the rapids. Here the river was smooth and slippery and they set out on the water. They had begun to understand the movements of the river now and guided the raft into the fast current, watching the land change from granite plain to grasslands and forests.

  ‘How does the river move?’ wondered Juniper.

  Oak laughed. ‘You must be feeling better.’ He watched the water race over his spear. ‘Rivergod won’t stop running. That’s all. Isn’t that enough?’

  ‘But why?’ asked Juniper and when Oak waved his spear at him impatiently he suddenly stood up and rocked the raft. Oak tried to balance it. ‘Have you gone mad again?’

  Juniper sat down and pushed his hands through his black hair.

  ‘You never ask, you never wonder. Your red beard grows longer and longer and you know less and less.’

  Oak sullenly pushed his spear through the current.

  ‘All I know is we have to race Icegoddess. Nothing else counts if we’re to get there—’

  ‘Well, what is in your head as we go along?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Oak paused. ‘Greenwater. Us playing . . .’

  Juniper leaned forward. ‘I’m sorry. Rivergod’s in my stomach again. He makes me upset. You’ll go back to Greenwater, I promise you. When we’ve found the Salvi you’ll go back.’

  Oak shrugged. ‘There’s no way back. Nothing can make us small again.’

  They stopped talking as several little darkmaned horses galloped down to the river, ears flattened, eyes white. They were the horses they knew from Greenwater, broadbacked with fat low bellies and short legs. Oak pointed to their bluey grey skins and their thick manes.

  ‘Their coats are thickening.’

  ‘Look!’ shouted Juniper.

  The horse in front had a short spear in its side. It reached the bank and swerved back towards the trees that edged the flat stretch of grass. The others followed, their hooves thundering. Oak and Juniper clutched their spears and waited for the hunters to follow. But there were no cries, no shouts, and soon the raft took them beyond the trees where the animals had disappeared. Then they saw the hunters up on the hillside, coming from different directions, their spears singing through the air towards each other.

  ‘They weren’t chasing the horses,’ whispered Juniper. ‘They’re chasing each other!’.’

  Oak p
anicked. ‘MURDAM! MURDAM!’ he shouted. Juniper pulled him down and held his hand over his mouth.

  ‘Have you gone mad, too?’

  A spear landed in the water and another skimmed over them. Juniper pinned Oak down until the raft had drifted round the bend of the river and the killers were out of

  sight. Then he vomited into the water.

  ‘Men against men! What can it mean?’

  Their raft drifted downstream, away from the silent manhunt. But they couldn’t forget what they had seen and at nightfall they stayed on the raft, hoping Rivergod would protect them. At dawn they were still afraid. Juniper directed the raft while Oak sat upright, frowning and scanning the banks. They went on until Sungod once again threw his red deerskin over the water. Then they felt safe enough to tie the raft to the root of an old tree and build a small fire. Juniper caught fish and laid them out on flat pebbles to roast.

  Night came down quickly. Oak had pictures in his mind of the fire at home, the family sitting round, Mema the music man playing the bones. Birch was right. There was no evil like Murdam and now he was part of it.

  When they woke a thick low mist hung over the river. They could only just make out a shape coming towards them, closing in on the embers of the fire. Was it a manhunter? Oak picked up a stone then stopped with relief.

  “The old wolf.’

  He went over and stroked the animal.

  ‘How did you find us?’

  The wolf looked up at him then lay down unafraid. Juniper laughed. ‘Let’s give her a name.’

  He built up the fire and the wolf edged nearer.

  ‘She’s the only animal I know who isn’t afraid of flames. Let’s call her Reddi, after their colour.’

  They shouted her name and the old wolf stood up. For a moment the silent hunt and the dark, threatening mist no longer seemed to matter.

  The river grew shallow and sluggish. In places the mist lifted and through the gap they could see Reddi running along the bank. Sometimes the head of an auroch peered out or a deer stood, its antlers etched on the grey air. They heard the clash of rutting aurochs, the clacking of willow grouse and partridge, the cries of passing ptarmigans. When the mist lifted they saw the land had changed. The river ran through a narrow chasm and they could see nothing but rising cliffs and huge rocks. The raft was already spinning and scraping against the stones beneath the turbulent water. Juniper looked at the tall cliffs. They were full of crevices and caves and overhanging shelters. What had Hornbeam said?

  You come to the angry river where cliffs grow above you . . . many caves . . . the river branches . . .

  He shouted excitedly. ‘It might be near here, the boundary of the Salvi’s land.’

  He touched his heart so Oak would respect his feelings. He had to find out more. He leapt into the icy water and pulled the raft to the river bank. Tongues of sand lapped between the boulders and pebbles. He walked carefully over the shore, staring down.

  ‘Here. Here.’ He beckoned to Oak. ‘Over here. A child’s footsteps.’

  Oak stepped from the raft and looked round warily. Vultures were flying overhead. The circling birds indicated a prey somewhere, or a waste pit where bones had been thrown. Juniper looked along the river. As far as he could see it ran between high cliffs pitted with holes, covered with trees and thick shrubs. Surely this was the place. But he could see no sign of a fork in the river.

  A sudden mist fell down from the cliffs and the beach became damp and cold. Then they heard geese honking overhead, travelling towards the hidden sun.

  ‘It’s a sign,’ said Juniper. ‘We must go on.’

  Oak shivered. Was it still possible to reach the Salvi in time?

  Chapter 16

  THE DEFILE

  They steered their way through the high rocky cliffs. It was a slow tiring journey for the raft was constantly battered and caught up in the currents. When Sungod sank into his other land Oak pointed to a shelter high up on the bank.

  ‘We’ll be safe there.’

  They hauled in the raft and lit a fire by the shelter. Juniper caught a fish almost as big as the one he had given Birch when he wanted his father to forgive him. Did Birch ever think of him now, he wondered. They ate well and went to sleep straightaway. It was still dark when Oak woke and smelt wolf. There was Reddi, lying by the fire licking her muzzle and looking at him.

  ‘So you found us here, old friend,’ Oak laughed. He shivered and made up the fire. ‘Icegoddess is on her way. Perhaps you’re a sign, like the geese.’

  The presence of the wolf filled him with an ease he hadn’t felt for a long time. He settled back on his hide and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

  Behind their shelter the hillside rose steeply and at dawn they climbed up to see what lay behind the cliffs. A hilly wooded landscape spread out, stretching up to the sky. They turned and looked down at the river. It wound through tall rocky banks, in places so shallow you could walk across. Some way ahead it branched out and disappeared between the hills that rolled upwards, one after the other, towards the sky. Juniper turned to Oak.

  ‘That’s where we must go! We must follow the river up into the hills.’

  He sniffed the frosty air. Winter was coming. In the clear early light animals were on the move, herds of deer on the distant hills, aurochs and bison further down in the valley, tiny as his mud animals. A little way upstream a woolly rhinoceros scratched its thick winter coat against a tree. Nearby a deer tried to shake off a lynx that clung to its shoulders. Juniper felt small but not unimportant. It was as if this land had been waiting for them to arrive.

  They went on for many days.

  When they reached the branch in the river, they abandoned the raft and followed New Water up into the hills. They were often forced back from the steep cliffs that hung over the river. Trees grew close to the edge—oak, fir, silver birch, hazel, walnut, juniper, hornbeam—in an abundance they had never seen before. From time to time Reddi appeared ahead of them as if she knew the territory.

  They walked through the trees, a little way back from the cliff edge. There was a path down the cliff where the river narrowed and soon they heard the sound of deer coming towards them, maybe chased towards the narrow defile in the cliff.

  ‘Where are the hunters?’

  Oak looked round.

  ‘We must hide. Who knows what they’re like? Anyway, the hunt’s sacred.’

  They flung themselves under a nearby boulder while the animals thundered towards them. The ground drummed, a spear thudded, a hunter bent down, his hair dark as Juniper’s. He went on and the two friends pressed themselves further back against the black downward edge of the boulder. Now they were surrounded by galloping hooves. A deer tried to leap over the rock, but slid back, his shoulder bleeding. They could picture what was happening outside: men surrounding the deer, pushing them towards the defile, hunters by the river waiting for them to fall. They heard a crash as some of the deer leapt over the cliff while others thundered back. Then the tumult stopped and a strange wail filled the air. Juniper lifted his head. It was a noise like leaves falling or a wind whistling in the wings of birds who fly to the other side of earth. Tears came into his eyes. It was the sign he had waited for, the hunting lament, the prophecy Hornbeam had made on his death bed.

  He snaked his way to the edge of the boulder and pointed to a patch of dense undergrowth.

  ‘We can hide there until the hunters go.’

  They raced across, pushed aside the bushes and hollowed out a small camp in the cluster of shadows. Juniper stretched out his aching leg. He longed to ease it by walking but it was night before they dared creep to the edge of the cliff and peer over.

  The narrow defile split the cliff with its deep shadow and far below Moongoddess shone in the river. There was a constant plash of water over stones.

  By the light of a fire hunters were skinning carcasses, cutting up meat, arranging bones and antlers. Deer lay in broken postures on the beach, one on top of the other. Rafts swung in t
he moonlit water and hunters piled them high with meat and antlers. Several men were pulling laden rafts upstream, singing the hunting lament. They stopped just below Oak and Juniper and looked up at Moongoddess.

  ‘Salvi, Salvi,’ they seemed to be chanting as they flung pieces of meat to her image in the water.

  Juniper and Oak watched for a long time until only a few men were left by the river. Smoke wafted over the heaped bodies. Flames lit up the animals’ fur and when the smoke swirled away the moon shone on the deers’ dead eyes that glinted like underwater stones.

  Juniper held his stomach—

  ‘My hunger,’ he whispered viciously, pulling up a root and gnawing at it. Suddenly Moongoddess plunged behind the cliff and they were left in darkness. They crept back to their camp. A fox came towards them, almost white, its ears pricked up, making for the carcasses. Oak silently threw his spear and the fox fell. Somewhere a wolf howled and the forest creaked.

  Back in their camp Oak lit a small fire and Juniper sang quietly as he stripped the animal. They were safe here, set well back in the woods. They ate quickly then huddled together under their deer hides. The air was cold as the river but they didn’t dare build up their fire. Juniper slept fitfully thinking of the Salvi to whom he belonged. When the sacred hunt was over he would go down to meet his family.

  Chapter 17

  THE SNOW HUT

  ‘Icegoddess!’

  When Juniper woke he pushed back the warm deerskin that covered his face and felt the snow slither down the side of his head. She had come overnight suddenly and silently and now their deer hides were covered with a thick layer of snow that had already smothered the small mossy fire. The air was intensely cold. During the night Juniper had dreamed of Rose. She brought water in the stone cup and stared at him silently. She curled up in her little grave beside the clay model he had made of her and he covered her with earth, layer after layer, until he too felt heaviness over his body.