Blooded Ground (Clan of the Ice Mountains Book 2)

by C. S. Bills

  Looks of eager expectation surrounded Attu and his people.

  Kagit clapped his hands three times, and the cedar house exploded with sound.

  The hanging grass mats to the right of the platform were pulled up by ropes, and long drums made of hollowed trees boomed as several hunters struck them with hide-wrapped sticks. Two hunters held large frames covered in tightly drawn hides. As they shook the frames, sharp sounds filled the cedar house.

  A horn blew, and the sound was so loud that many people clapped their hands over their ears. Clan children woke up crying.

  Attu studied Ashukat. He hadn’t moved from where the Ravens had dropped him, and he lay still now, even with the sound of the horn.

  More of Kagit’s hunters moved to stand in front of the platform, at ground level. They had large rattles in their hands, made from turtle shells and decorated with shells and feathers. They began chanting.

  Kagit’s people leaned in. Attu felt as trapped as if he had been tied hand and foot. There was no escape now.

  Rika, answer me, please. Attu began frantically praying to his name spirit again. Around him the rest of his Clan grasped their spirit necklaces and did the same.

  The grass mats on the left side of the platform raised. Two men emerged, stomping their feet and carrying short curved stone knives. Attu tensed to leap onto the platform to protect his father, Paven, and Ashukat, but the two men moved in front of Kagit and the other Clan leaders and began to dance.

  They wore woven grasses laced with shells, tied just below their knees. Their legs were painted with yellow swirling designs, and each wore a short grass garment that almost hid their men’s parts. Their chests were each painted with the same swirling patterns, in red on the front and white on the back. On their heads, they balanced huge masks. The front was a carved raven’s beak below large eyes, painted yellow. The back was a long flat piece of wood extending out behind the wearer, balancing the long beak in the front. Attu guessed each mask must be at least a spear length from tip of the beak to what appeared to be a crest in the back. The masks must have weighed as much as four or five large sunset fish, but the men balanced the masks on their heads, looking out through the nose holes in the beaks as they jumped and twirled around on the platform like the masks weighed nothing.

  Then suddenly, the dancers stopped. They lifted their arms, and two huge wings arose from their bodies, as white as new fallen snow.

  Attu’s people gasped.

  The dancers stood still, wings spread. Their painted eyes glowed yellow.

  Paven whispered something to Ubantu, and Attu saw his father stiffen. He nodded, and Attu knew. These were what Paven had seen. Not ghosts at all, but men, dressed like giant white ravens. He thought of Meavu and felt sick. What had happened to her?

  Attu leaned back a moment, closing his eyes from the sight before him. As he did, he felt sourness from his stomach rising up to his throat. He vomited into an empty drinking bowl, then pushed it away from him into the mess of blankets the Ravens had spread on the floor. He felt more clear-headed almost immediately. He worked to think of something, some way to get his people away from this place before they were all enslaved.

  As he sat, Attu Saw something else: it was bright, illuminated by torches, and it looked like he was in a cedar house, but not this one. Then he saw Rika pointing at an empty basket and then at a large wooden jug, painted white. It was filled with a brown liquid, much like the sweet drink they had been drinking all evening.

  Rika, are you all right?

  Yes.

  Attu Saw, as Rika unfolded, in images, what she had discovered. He saw the empty gathering basket as if in Rika’s dream, then the one in the cedar house.

  The white berries.

  He realized, as Rika showed him the various parts of her own memories she’d pieced together to figure it out, that Limoot had made a drink that tasted like the sweet drink they’d been drinking all evening, but this drink contained the white berries, dried and mashed into it. He saw Limoot putting the mashed berries into white painted jugs.

  Poison!

  Yes.

  And Attu knew then. The Ravens didn’t want his people for slaves. They wanted them dead.

  Yes. Rika had been following his thoughts.

  Did she see you?

  No, I hid.

  Then Attu saw Rika’s plan. White jugs emptied into extra ones nearby, the drinks switched, so the Ravens now had the poison drink in the jugs marked for them and not Attu’s people.

  No, Rika! Get out of there before someone comes back!

  No. We need to make the Ravens sick enough so we can escape. But Attu, I can’t give them all the poison drink they made for us....

  Attu understood. Even when faced with such treachery, Rika was a healer. She would never purposefully kill someone, no matter how evil they were.

  Our people must only pretend to drink the drinks marked for us. I don’t have any way to know if these containers have contained poison drink before. We can’t risk drinking it. I’ll come back when I’m finished.

  Be careful.

  I will. Spread the word. Once they discover we haven’t been poisoned, they’ll attack us. Pray they’ll be sick enough by then that we can escape.

  Attu mind spoke to Tingiyok. He saw the old Seer’s face pale. Then the two of them whispered to those sitting around them until their small group all knew to avoid the drink, poisoned or not.

  Ashukat suddenly moaned and fell to one side.

  Tingiyok stood and motioned to Kagit that he wanted to approach his friend. Surprisingly, Kagit allowed him to walk up to the platform and, crouching among the people, to move slowly around the still twirling dancers to attend to Ashukat. The noise in the cedar house was deafening, drums beating, horns blowing, rattles and chanting, and the thump of the dancers’ feet to the deep drums, all echoing off the sides of the cedar house. Attu watched Tingiyok go, still dazed at what Rika had told him. He clutched his spirit necklace.

  Save us Elder Nuanu! Save us Vanreda! Save us Attuanin!

  All around him Attu saw his people, moving their lips silently, pleading.

  Kagit swayed, caught up in the dancers and the music. He didn’t even glance toward Tingiyok again as the old man checked on his Clan leader. He moved briefly toward Ubantu, as if to request his help, and the two men moved Ashukat to a more comfortable position. Ubantu nodded, as if he understood he was to watch Ashukat. Then Tingiyok made his way back to his seat with the Clans.

  Ubantu sat, and Attu saw him whisper to Paven. Paven’s eyes grew wide, then he nodded, the quick hunter’s nod.

  I slipped him a knife, Tingiyok confirmed. I had it hidden in my under garment. My spirit was too troubled to come among the Ravens completely unarmed, but it was all I could conceal. I don’t know how he’ll be able to use it, but it’s something.

  One small knife? Attu thought. What good will that do? We’re surrounded by men with weapons.

  I’m done exchanging the drinks. I’m coming in, Rika thought to Attu.

  No! Run back to camp. Hide in the caves.

  Without you? I can’t... Rika’s thoughts suddenly ended.

  Rika!

  Attu tried to keep his eyes on the dancers, appearing interested, but he was watching the doors, afraid Rika would enter at any moment, and afraid she wouldn’t.

  Where are you, now? He mind spoke.

  No response.

  What’s happening?

  Nothing.

  Attu fought panic as the dancers twirled into a frenzy and dropped to the ground. Kagit motioned and the music stopped. The sudden lack of sound was shocking after the deafening noise. The dancers stood and walked off the stage, their adornments jangling in the now eerie silence. The mats dropped again, covering the sides of the stage.

  Kagit clapped, and women carrying jugs appeared in the doorways. Some of the jugs were painted white, some not. Attu noticed that although the women pretended to be pouring the drinks randomly into the drink pouches and woo
den cups they provided, no Raven was getting a drink out of a white jug.

  Kagit stood and raised the large pouch he had been given. “The great Raven will have his way. We will prosper as we say goodbye to you.” He grinned, and this time Attu knew it was the most evil face he had ever seen. Even Moolnik at his worst had never been this bad. At least Moolnik had felt wronged. But these people have planned this deadly ceremony, have lied to my people since the day we met them, and somehow, our deaths are a crucial part of an evil ritual they must do to erect the carved tree, the totem. The great carved tree was at the center of it all, and now that it is finished, it will seal the fate of our people. But why must the Ravens kill us all to perform this ritual of the totem? What does it mean to them? Is there any way we can still escape?

  Attu’s people pretended to drink, and Kagit and his people sat and drank and talked among themselves, unconcerned as they watched the white jugs Limoot had filled with poison get passed around among Attu’s people: men, women, and children. Meanwhile, the Ravens drank huge amounts of the liquid, poisoning themselves.

  Two new dancers came through the grass mats, and this time their dance was accompanied by the singing of some of the women. The dance was slow, hypnotic, and Attu realized it was meant to calm them, lure them into drinking more, until it was too late, and they had drunk enough to kill themselves.

  But now, it was having the opposite effect. Some of the Ravens were rubbing their eyes; several held their heads in their hands, having drank at least two pouches of the drink, Attu guessed. Most of the Ravens who had been standing near the doors – to keep us in while we died, Attu now realized – had slipped down to the floor. Only the ten or so guards closest to Kagit seemed unaffected. Attu realized they hadn’t drunk any of the poisoned drink. Perhaps they weren’t allowed to drink when they were supposed to be guarding their leader.

  As the dancers finished, Yural moved to sit closer to Attu. “What do we do once the Ravens pass out?”

  “I don’t know,” Attu said. “Father may have to grab Kagit and hold him, force the others to let us go.”

  The dancers stopped, looking surprised, as Kagit suddenly signaled for them to leave the platform. They hurried behind the grass mats. Kagit looked around at his people, concerned, and began speaking. It was hard to tell, but Attu thought Kagit’s speech sounded slurred. The Raven leader raised his arms up to the sky, and a strange cawing sound burst from his throat.

  The Raven Clan stood, although some leaned heavily on the walls and each other.

  Not knowing what else to do, the Clans stood also.

  The grass walls on the left rose.

  And there, on a dark platform, lay Meavu, bound hand and foot, a hide strip tied around her mouth. Her eyes were wide with terror, and she struggled against her bonds.

  Yural cried out and fell in a faint at Attu’s feet.

  “No!” Attu shouted, but two Raven hunters grabbed him and held him fast. Three hunters were trying to hang on to Ubantu as he struggled like a tuskie to free himself and get to Meavu. A hunter pulled Rovek back, and he fought so hard two more joined the first, wrestling the young hunter to the floor. Ashukat still lay unconscious on the platform. Paven sat still as well. Hunters stood near the pair, but no one reached for Paven. He looked around, gesturing lewdly at the men to try to grab him, but they laughed at him instead.

  Kagit started speaking again, but Paven interrupted him with a sneer and a shout. “You think I am no threat?” The man howled in rage. “You think I couldn’t kill you with my bare hands, you foul son of a trysta and an ice bear?”

  Kagit stood, apparently amused by this hunter’s ranting. “Sha-”

  “Listen to me,” Paven yelled. “See me for the great hunter I am, and fear, for I’m going to kill you. And then I’m killing all of your people.”

  “He’s crazy!” Tingiyok yelled. “Crazy. Don’t listen to him.”

  Then Attu saw what Paven was up to. With each rant, he moved a step to his right, nearer to Ubantu. He had raised his heavy walking stick, as if to balance himself. But Attu knew Paven hadn’t needed a crutch in a long time. Yet he had used it tonight, leaning on it, appearing weak. He had placed himself in a position to look helpless. And now he was using it.

  Attu struggled. The men holding him were loosening their grips. One of them belched, and the stench of his breath gagged Attu. The poison is starting to affect them, weaken them.

  Kagit stared at Paven. Attu pulled at the men who grabbed him, wrestling and twisting as if pulling with all his strength, but he wasn’t. He could feel the arms of the men weakening, and he didn’t want them to realize it. Not yet.

  Then Attu looked to the other side of the platform as two Raven hunters dragged an unconscious Rika around the hanging mats. Attu’s mind reeled again, and he thought that this time, surely he would die of the pain of what he saw.

  She was bound and gagged. A dark bruise covered her cheek, and one eye was swollen.

  Paven, who’d been screaming at Kagit since he first stood up, shut his mouth and stared.

  Kagit turned to see what he was looking at. Surprised, he stepped back. Then, a huge grin split his face and he laughed, throwing his head back and making a sound that echoed through the shelter.

  Limoot entered from the shadows behind the platform. “She saw,” the old woman said in the language of the Clan, then said something to Kagit in his own tongue.

  “Sacrifice!” Limoot shouted and raised a knife high above her head.

  Chapter 23

  The Ravens yelled back. The noise was loud, but not as loud as Attu would have expected these people to be.

  Limoot, the knife still raised high over her head, looked surprised for a moment, like she, too, had expected more from her people. Then she grew fierce again and glared out at all of them.

  Even Kagit can’t match the evil of his mother, Attu thought. What can I do? Limoot IS the killer of many, the real power behind this Clan. Just like was spoken through Farnook.

  Limoot moved to the front of the platform, and her small body loomed before them all, large in the shadows of the guttering torches around her. When she spoke, her voice was like treacherous ice groaning beneath them all, ready to swallow them whole. “We kill you.” She raised her knife and stabbed the air in front of her. “Ravens only may possess Gifts. You must die.”

  “We sacrifice them,” she motioned with her knife to Meavu and Rika. “One pure, one healer. Both with Gifts.”

  The Ravens leaned in to hear her. Even Kagit seemed mesmerized by his mother. He looked eager to follow her every command and relish her every decision.

  “We-” and Limoot moved her hands, as if scattering something down in front of her. “The bones of Meavu, the bones of Rika into... sacred totem’s ground.” She turned and leered toward Paven, who still stood frozen in place, and Ubantu, who stood tall and strong, his face ashen. “We-” and she made a motion as if pouring from a jug, “the blood Meavu, the blood Rika,” and she moved to place her hands together. “We eat the spirit Meavu, the spirit Rika,” and she spread her hands wide, the knife sharp in one, the other gesturing out among the Clans as if she were grabbing bites of something delicious and eating it. “We possess Gifts of all of you!”

  “You die,” Limoot continued. “Blood and bones. Raven-” and Limoot made a fist with her hand and shook it over her head. Attu had no doubt she believed that this bloodshed and cannibalism would make the Raven Clan all powerful, their Raven totem spirit unbreakable.

  It just might.

  Rika moved. She groaned. One of the men holding her shook her. She came awake. Attu heard her scream, muffled by the gag in her mouth.

  Attu? Rika’s mind speak was muffled, as if her mind were also gagged.

  I’m here!

  Attu felt as if he would explode. His heart hammered in his throat, and his head throbbed. Rika struggled, biting at the gag in her mouth. Rovek roared in the hands of the Ravens who held him. Limoot stood, her arm still raised, knife
in hand. And Attu felt his spirit slipping out of his body until he looked down on the scene before him as if from above it all. He saw himself, held by the Raven hunters, helpless. He saw his clan, helpless before these Raven killers.

  Then one of the Ravens groaned.

  At the sound, Attu’s spirit fell back into him, and with it came the strength he’d momentarily lost when he’d seen Rika tied and gagged. Now, a fierce determination to save Rika, and Meavu, and all the rest of his people flooded Attu, and he knew he would be able to wrench himself away from the Ravens who held him, the next time he tried.

  Attu looked to Limoot for his chance to attack. Her performance appeared to be over. She peered out at the Ravens again, as if surprised they weren’t more chaotic, more frenzied by her speech. Instead, all around Attu, he heard groaning as men and women clutched at their stomachs and their heads.

  Good. I hope they all die of the poison drink.

  Realization dawned on Limoot first. She moved to where Kagit still sat and whispered something to him. Kagit’s face turned white. The fierce lines of his Raven tattoos stood out, and he roared to his feet.

  “How dare you harm Raven Clan!” Kagit shouted. He took a step forward as if to reach for one of the Clan leaders. Paven leaped to one side, swung his walking stick over his head, and struck the Raven hunter closest to him full in the face. The man dropped where he stood. Ubantu pulled away from the other, then jumping behind him, he grabbed the man around the neck and with a sudden twist of his massive arms, the man’s neck cracked. He fell like a stone.

  Kagit looked at his downed men, his eyes wide in surprise.

  Paven didn’t rush Kagit, however. He froze in place as Limoot stood, her knife now at Rika’s throat.

  “Limoot kill daughter,” Limoot said. She leered at Paven, staring at the stick he still held.

  “You’re going to kill her anyway,” Paven said and took a slow step forward, never taking his eyes off Limoot.

  Kagit grinned and took a step toward Paven. “Not yet. First fight,” he sneered. “Fight me, scarred one. You not survive, as you did with bear.”