Half-Breed

by Anna L. Walls

  Canis remembered that the youngest among them couldn’t chew the raw meat and get enough before it was all gone so they started begging from her. Eventually all of them cooked their meat and ensured that even the youngest got a share. Brian would have expected nothing less of them.

  Canis remembered when the first baby died. It had been too young to eat what food they had, and none of them could provide it with the milk it needed. As the older ones grew stronger after their illness, the littlest ones died. They carried them with them as long as they could. Canis remembered the fire they made to send their souls to the stars.

  Canis remembered using shards of glass to skin the creatures they ate and using the raw hides to keep warm. The days were scarcely discernable from the nights and they were getting so cold, though the giant rocks seemed to have all fallen, leaving only some smaller ones to still rain down on them occasionally. Canis remembered trying to figure out how to make the hides soft. He knew it could be done; he just had to figure out how.

  Canis remembered seeing the lake for the first time; it was a vast expanse of smoothness and calm in the midst of the smashed chaos that surrounded it. If any of the falling rocks had landed in its depths, the calm surface hid the evidence.

  Canis remembered gazing at it and telling Avior that he didn’t want to go any farther. Canis remembered them searching the ruins of the city to find shelter. They found it, but it wasn’t very warm and impossible to heat, but it was out of the wind. They rested and recuperated from their journey and when they had recovered enough, Avior took the hunters out in search of a better place.

  Canis remembered that Avior had built her house first then spent much of the winter digging the tunnel that led into the cliff. Canis remembered how, every night after working hard all day or hunting with the others, he would sit and comb her hair before they went to bed. Canis remembered how she was the only one who had long hair. No matter what the others did, their hair never grew more than three or four inches long, though it was thick and fluffy. Canis remembered thinking that, even though everyone said they admired her hair, she always thought their hair at least had personality; the thought had always brought a smile.

  Canis remembered learning to make paints and painting Avior’s picture; she loved that picture, she loved Avior with all her heart, but she had been unable to give him a child. She wanted his children so badly. Even when she took a second husband like many of the other women did, still she had no children. She grieved for the unborn children in their house. Canis remembered appeasing the grief by drawing pictures. She drew hundreds of pictures, mostly with charcoal, but with paints as well; pictures of the life around them, pictures from her memory of their trip here and pictures of the children playing and learning.

  She started to tell the story to the children born here, so they would never forget where they came from, though Avior was reluctant to tell him about the part before they came upon her father’s house; those memories were painful, and he didn’t want to remember them. She finally convinced Avior how important remembering it all was, and he helped her draw the pictures too, even though they were hard for him to look at.

  When Debhe returned to see why he had remained for so long, he turned to look at her. His memories suddenly took on a double-layered feeling, but before the older memories faded into the back of his mind, he thought that Debhe looked like she might be the daughter of Aludra who had been a hunting partner of Avior and Markeb, her mates.

  Canis made an aborted reach for her kind face then toppled over like a felled tree. He woke only moments later before Debhe’s mate, Altair, could pick him up to carry him out of the room. His steadying hand was welcome nonetheless, as was the cup of hot tea Debhe pressed into his numb hands when they were in by the hearth. Canis shivered through two cups of hot tea before he felt steady enough to return to the house of his hostess.

  Rrusharr saw to it that he made his way through the dark streets to his new home. He didn’t remain there very long. He couldn’t rest. After what seemed like hours of tossing and turning, he left the house and made his way to the top of the cliff overlooking the village. After a couple of hours working with his sword, he sat on a protruding stone and watched the stars as they slowly lost their battle with the rising sun.

  With the rising sun warming his neck, he felt himself dozing and caught himself tipping off the rock more than once. He considered returning to the house to sleep, but decided against it. The day’s activities couldn’t be put off for one sleeping man and his nest was not in a secluded corner, so he slipped down and leaned his back against the rock he’d been sitting on. He watched the village come to life as he drifted off. The comforting presences of Rrusharr who sprawled at his side and Ggrrawrr’s practical guardianship watching over all of them, even the rambunctious Rranggrr who was gleefully hunting for mice in the snowdrifts, eased him off to sleep.

  He found himself walking along the high plateau toward the higher mountains. As he stepped onto a peak, he looked back and saw easily the four clan settlements. The woman on his right side spoke with a sultry voice and he looked to hear what she had to say. She was dressed all in blue and white robes that flowed from her shoulders to wave in the breeze. Her hair was black and the few strands that escaped from the blue cloth draped over her head, stirred around her gentle face.

  She stared at him with her clear brown eyes as she spoke. “I thought it proper that you should understand her life. One day you will be teaching it to those who have forgotten. Her gifts and sacrifices should never be forgotten.”

  “What were her gifts?” asked Canis.

  “The gift of humanity, and most of all, the gift of love. I have chosen others to lead their people out of darkness and despair just as I have chosen you. The gift of healing that you have spread among the clans will enable them to grow fast and strong. One day, they will be a powerful ally to the people of the plains, but that is far in the future. For now, it is for you to go into the plains and touch as many as you can. With your wisdom and kindness, you can right many wrongs and heal many hurts.”

  “Mother, I am only one man and I am not old enough to be wise. Nor could I hope to meet enough people to bridge the gap between the plains people and the clans.”

  “You misunderstand, my son,” said a different voice from his left side. Standing there was a woman of middle years with long flowing red hair and porcelain skin. Instead of being dressed in clothes that fluttered in the slightest wind, she wore a fine leather dress belted at her slim waist; the fringe that hung from the hem brushed her toes. She had a tiny pink scar on one cheek and the bluest eyes he had ever seen in his life. He could gaze into those eyes forever.

  “Mother?” said Canis wonderingly.

  “Oh, how I have longed to hear someone call me that,” said Angela. She reached out and cupped his face in her long fingered hand. “You have eyes like Avior’s.” With a deep sigh, she returned to the subject at hand reluctantly letting her hand drop away. “We would never saddle you with such an overwhelming task. No, you are merely the first of many who will begin to venture into the plains. Someday, one of your descendants will ally with a plains’ king and the two of them will begin to bring the two races together. One day all of the people in the land will live together as they did long ago and one day they will once again roam the world.”

  The Mother rested a hand on Canis’s right shoulder drawing his attention back to her. “One day in the far away future, all of the people in the world will live in such harmony that no ruler will be necessary. When that day comes, they will be able to reach for the stars and farther. That desire to reach for the stars will come from these people and they need to be there in order to foster it.”

  Canis looked back at the four clan holdings nested in their little valleys. “All of this will come to pass because I go out into the plains and get people used to the fact that there is a different race up here in the forever snows behind the mountains.”

  “If the two peoples ran into
each other on their own, there would surely be war, and these gentle people would be wiped out all too soon,” said Angela. “They must be allies before that can be allowed to happen.”

  “Then I will do what I can,” said Canis.

  Angela rested a hand on his chest and stretched up on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. The Mother merely touched his cheek with her hand allowing it to trail down his arm, then both of them walked back down the mountain toward the salt lake.

  As he watched them go, he saw the Mother grow larger and larger until she finally disbursed among the clouds above and the trees below, enfolding it all in her being. Angela strode all the way back to the salt lake before she faded.

  Canis reached up and touched his cheek and the touch woke him from his sleep. The village before him still hummed with its daily activity, Rrusharr still rested at his side and Rranggrr still hunted mice, though she was farther away at the moment, and Ggrrawrr still stood guard over them all. Only the angle of the sun had changed; it was high overhead now.

  He rose to his feet, hitching his shoulder where a lump in the rock had gouged a numb spot, then headed back down to the village. He’d been here less than a week and suddenly he felt like a grandfather. Well, no, that wasn’t the right word. He was their guardian. He held them all under his protection. They were his responsibility.

  When he reached Capella’s house, she greeted him with the beginnings of a new coat she was making for him. “It is for the winter. I am still working on the pelt you brought in, but if you insist on hunting with Almach, you will need proper clothing.”

  “I am grateful,” said Canis as he flexed his shoulders to see if there was enough room. He didn’t tell her that the coat he already had was only a few months old, but then this one looked like it was going to be much longer.

  The Long Night

  Winter came down on them with a fury. The storm howled around the village for four days. It was a time for much sleep and many other things that took place among the furs. This activity was interrupted for meals and calls of nature, but little else.

  Canis busied himself with whatever he could find to do in the dim light of the lamp. The hide he had brought was mostly finished and was soft everywhere but around the edges. He worked on that until he couldn’t take any more, then he put his new coat on and went outside. He leaned against the wall next to the door and watched the storm rage. He knew better than to venture out into it, even for a few feet. The blinding wind-driven snow would disorient him in seconds and he could freeze to death only feet from safety.

  Auriga pulled him inside for a meal, after which the three of them disappeared behind their curtain again.

  Canis went upstairs and dug out some heavy leather, then began to make himself a new pair of boots. Just standing outside for that short time, his feet became cold. He couldn’t afford for that to happen out on a hunt. He worked until his fingers got too cold, then he went down for a cup of tea to warm his hands. He finished one boot before supper and the other before he went to sleep. By then the others had worn themselves out and were finally quiet. It had been a long day.

  After far too long in his opinion, the storm passed and Almach and Auriga made preparations for a hunt. “With luck we’ll find a herd mired in the snow and we’ll make a good haul,” said Almach.

  “That is if the herd we find is large enough to withstand such a harvest,” said Auriga. Seeing Canis’s interest, he explained. “Only in the hardest years will we take more than half a herd.”

  Since it appeared that both of Capella’s mates were intent on participating in this hunt, Canis felt obliged to remain behind. He suspected this was part of their effort to protect him from harm, but he didn’t mind this time. He would take his turn on the hunt, and taking his turn also meant taking a turn at home.

  When they were gone, Canis went to the river to bring back ice to fill the water barrel. Then he took his sled to the edge of the lake where he could find wood to make new snowshoes. It was difficult to find something that wasn’t twisted and gnarled by the wind, but eventually he found something he could use.

  With it thawing, he started to oil his bow and check his arrows. He would need more, but he didn’t have any more heads. He could deal with that later. Maybe Auriga would show him where their deposits were.

  By the time the hunters returned, Canis had worked his way through most of his gear and had a good estimate of what he might need before he left for the plains in the spring.

  The hunt had gone well, though a wounded buck had gored one man. Capella went to offer her condolences and Canis went with her.

  Adhara answered their scratch and brought them down for a cup of tea. Others came to offer their support as well, but none of them did more than express their sorrow about Turais’s injury. It was not bad enough that it would kill him unless it became badly infected, but it could take him out of the hunt for a good deal of the winter. Bad luck for any family.

  Canis came to do more than offer his condolences; he knelt beside Turais and started a halting conversation by asking how the accident had happened. Once the man was immersed in telling of the incident, Canis rested a hand on his leg and let the healing drown his awareness.

  A few minutes later, Turais was looking at him with a mixture of fear and fascination, and the women who were still there, had stopped their conversation and gathered around to watch.

  Canis pulled away the blood soaked pad to reveal a clean tear that extended from his mid thigh on his left side to split his left, buttocks. Instead of looking swollen and angry, it now looked to be half healed already with very little bleeding left, and that would make a good scab. The wound would still take him out of several hunts and he would probably have a limp for the rest of his life, but he would be back on the hunt before half of the winter had passed.

  Adhara gasped to see it and muttered “A miracle” with utter awe in her voice.

  “This is why I came here by way of all of the other clans,” said Canis. “The Mother gifted me with the ability to heal, but mostly she gifted me with the ability to pass the gift on to others that she deems worthy of such a gift.” Canis reached up and touched the stone between his brows. “This is the symbol of her touch and her gift. All it takes is for someone to touch it. I was able to leave two or three healers in each of the other holdings and I expect to do much the same here.”

  “You mean to say that if I touch that stone, I’ll be able to heal like that?” asked Centauri.

  “That is the gift. Whether the Mother chooses you to wield it remains to be seen.”

  “How will we know how to do that?” asked Capella with a gesture toward Turais’s leg. “Who will teach us what to do?”

  “Whoever receives the gift will know what to do. I do not know anything about it. Though I can do some healing in this manner, I remember nothing of the time in question. The Mother heals through me.”

  “You keep speaking of ‘the Mother’. Are you talking about Angela?” asked Caph.

  “No, Angela was a remarkable woman, but this gift came about long after her death and is sprinkled among the plainsmen. It is only right that you have your share as well. That way there will be fewer deaths among your number from accidents such as this.” He waved a hand toward Turais. “It is the Mother’s wish that you grow strong.”

  “You must teach us more about this ‘Mother’,” said Adhara.

  “I know very little. All I know is what I have been told. That She is the mother of all things be it plant, animal or man and everything in between.”

  The room was silent, but Caph didn’t let it stay that way very long. She pulled Canis to his feet. “Well, if we must touch the stone in your forehead to receive the gift of healing, there’s no time like the present to do it. The hunt was successful. Everyone is home. Let’s go.”

  This isn’t quite what Canis had expected. In the other holdings, he had needed to talk the people into touching the stone. Actions of that nature were considered invasive unless
the person was close family or one’s small children. Some were willing and some were reluctant; ultimately, it took two or three days to convince people to take the chance. Each time the gift was bestowed, it sent a charge through his body. It wasn’t unpleasant, but still, it was a bit of a drain in a way.

  It was already near sundown when the hunters had returned from their hunt. By the time Caph led Canis from Adhara’s house, it was full dark. Still, Caph led Canis to every house in the village, skipping only those that were vacant. In each house, every occupant down to the smallest baby touched Canis’s stone. When the third healer was initiated, Canis was dropped to his knees by the touch. By the time they had visited the last home and bestowed the last gift on the last healer, he could scarcely stand.

  Seven healers were uncovered ranging in age from a one-year-old little boy whose mother had died in childbirth, to thirty-five year old Altair, Debhe’s husband.

  When Caph and Altair brought Canis back to Capella’s house, Capella took one look at her guest’s condition and berated her mother. “Mother! How could you do this to our honored guest? He will be here all winter. You are always being so greedy.”

  “S-like Rayet,” slurred Canis. He was having trouble focusing and was draped from Altair’s shoulder like a rag doll.

  Capella called to her husbands, and then turned to Canis. “What did you say?”

  “Rayet…stole a bunch of Angela’s pic…pichers. Hid ‘em in a jar. Didn wanna share. Looks like ‘im.” Canis was fading by now, but Almach and Auriga were there and they carried him into the house. In the darkness of predawn, no one noticed how pale Caph went after what Canis said.

  “Mother, who’s Rayet?”

  Caph didn’t respond: she just hurried away. She didn’t even thank Altair for his help in bringing Canis home or congratulate him for becoming a healer.

  Capella wasn’t so forgetful; she did thank him for bringing their guest home; no one told her that he was now a healer. She went inside with the intention of questioning Canis further, but he was already asleep.