by R. Lee Smith
3
That night, when the hunters returned and the tribe gathered in the commons to divide the catch, Murgull and Olivia were there to help. It was obvious that this night’s hunt had been carried out in a grocery store; the meat came neatly wrapped on plastic panels, which prompted quite a lot of good-natured teasing from humans, and some not so good-natured, like Karen, who peppered Bodual with catty observations about the difficulty of spearing a boneless chuck roast or the ethics of taking out an entire herd of chicken thighs until Anita cheerfully told her there was plenty of bread in the women’s tunnels if she didn’t like what was on the menu. As the hunters’ feast was prepared, Liz made the tentative suggestion that she could go along on the next raid, and help them find food that would hold over the winter.
“You know, like rice or noodles, or there’s all kinds of canned stuff. Or, you know, vitamins and aspirin and toothpaste and stuff like that.”
“Damned good idea!” Tina sprang up, startling the male next to her with the vehemence of her agreement. “I want to go, too!”
The gulla beside her gaped for half a beat, then threw down his spit and seized her arm, snarling, “No woman of mine hunts! I hunt!”
Tobi started forward; Doru caught and held her.
“Gullnar is your mate,” Vorgullum said, chopping off Tina’s furious protests at the first word. “Obey him.”
Tina yanked her arm out of Gullnar’s grip, and for a second there, Olivia fully expected her to add a solid sock to Gullnar’s snout. Instead, and not without a scathing stare in Vorgullum’s direction, she stalked out of the commons and away.
Tobi shook off Doru’s restraining hand, but didn’t run after her. Instead, she stomped back over to where the gullan women were quietly preparing spits, snarling, “Dick!” over her shoulder as she went.
Gullnar bristled, glanced at Doru, and sat back down. “You should mind your mate’s mouth,” he grumbled.
“Why?” Doru asked, just a little too darkly to be his usual mild tone. “I think you’re a dick, too.”
There was a little nervous snickering, but not much. Liz had waited, watching anxiously as this all played out, and now she hesitantly raised her hand. “But what about me?” she asked.
Vorgullum studied her for a long time with that hard glint in his eyes that Olivia knew so well and dreaded so much, but at the end of it, to her surprise, he nodded.
“If,” he said, pointing at her mate, “you never once leave Gormuck’s sight, and if you make no sound except to indicate this food or that food. At the first cry of alarm, you are in the air and back to the mountain!”
“You think I’ll scream?” Liz said, looking cross. “For God’s sake, what would I say? I’ll be shoplifting!”
Doru cleared his throat and said loudly, “I am teaching my Tobi to hunt, Vorgullum. Perhaps, if there are other humans who wish to learn…?”
Vorgullum turned very slowly and looked hard at the larger male. It was not a hostile expression, but his silence was deep and long as he considered the open-ended request. At last, he turned and looked out at his tribe, where the humans were clustered together and said, “Which is your Tobi?”
“I am.” Tobi sprang up again and ran over.
Vorgullum immediately fought an obvious battle with laughter. “You are teaching this to hunt?”
Before anyone could speak or move, Tobi dropped, spun, and knocked Vorgullum’s legs out from under him. He fell with a bark of alarm and she sprang with an enthusiastic war-cry.
Doru snapped her out of the air and tucked her under his arm.
“I wasn’t going to hurt him for real,” Tobi protested, kicking. “Let me go, you big jerk.”
Vorgullum rolled onto his knees and looked back over his shoulder with blatant astonishment.
Olivia could see Doru’s shoulders tense as his leader rose slowly and fanned out his wings. There was no sound at all in the entire mountain.
Vorgullum said, “Can she do that to a goat?”
“I can do it to a bear!” Tobi insisted.
Vorgullum burst out laughing. “Sudjummar!” he bellowed. “Size the human for a spear!” He looked at Tobi hanging from Doru’s arm and shook his head, grinning. “To think that I have lived to lead a tribe of females who hunt,” he marveled. To Doru, he added, “If there are any others among them with any skill, and if their mates allow it, I trust you to train them.”
Doru tossed his horns, plainly relieved, and thumped his Tobi on her feet. Tobi immediately gave him a hopping hug, crowing, “Did you see that? Bam! Fucking BAM! Right on the ground!” She pumped her arm at the air and howled like a wolf, then ran out, presumably to share the good news with Tina.
So now they were hunting. Olivia could not help but think of Cheyenne, who was still bed-bound with her broken leg. She wondered what she would do when she learned that Vorgullum was now allowing weapons and shopping trips. The tribe appeared to have accepted the idea of arming humans and allowing them to hunt without objection, or even much surprise. Again, Olivia was reminded of the unique position of authority that Vorgullum held. His word was Law; there was no argument because no one argued with Law.
And now, as the meat was cooked and distributed to the tribe, Vorgullum crossed to the center stone and leapt atop it, fanning out his wings to their full, impressive span. It was an ominous posture, and Olivia was certain it was meant to be. She waited, fully expecting him to order Cheyenne to death.
“Thugg, come before the tribe.”
Olivia turned with the rest of them to see Thugg clamp a hand down on Victoria’s arm. Victoria looked at once outraged and confused, but the confusion faded fast as she was towed toward the rock. Her rolling eyes lit briefly on Olivia, and her expression was one of naked pleading.
Vorgullum folded his arms and gazed down on gulla and human in grave silence as Thugg turned to address the tribe.
“This human is Victoria, bound to me as mate, not out of passion, but of need. No blood has come to her and I would have our bond severed.” He spoke this last with real depth of emotion and released Victoria’s arm.
“She was an important woman once,” Olivia murmured.
The nearest gulla, Doru, looked around in surprise. “How?”
She shook her head, too tired even to try and explain about human politics, or economics, or whatever the hell it was that made Victoria think she had been so much better than the others.
“So be it. Thugg, stand down,” Vorgullum said, and Thugg shook off his upper body as if throwing off cold water. He strode into the crowd without a second look back.
Vorgullum continued to consider the human before him, his face expressionless, his voice like steel. “Murgull, come and take this female to the care of the Eldest.”
Grumbling, Murgull heaved herself off a bench.
That was as much as Victoria could take. “What are you doing?” she shrilled, swatting wildly at the aged gulla’s shoulders. “Get your hands off me!”
“This human is barren,” Vorgullum said, his voice booming out over hers and silencing her as effectively as if he had clamped his huge hand over her mouth. “She will reside at the boundary of the women’s tunnels, under Horumn’s care. She is safe,” he said impassively, “to couple with.”
Olivia felt the collective consideration of the unmated males pin on Victoria in the span of a heartbeat. “Oh my dear God,” she said in a tiny voice.
Victoria began to shake, then to stagger. Her mouth was working, but no sound came out. In the end, Murgull had to call irritably for a younger female to carry the human to her new cave.
Vorgullum watched her go, then caught Murgull’s eye and jumped down from the center stone.
Murgull muttered something black under her breath and limped heavily over to climb the rock he had just vacated. She glared out at the sea of upturned faces and squinted her good eye at them. “Bolga is no longer carrying,” she said without preamble.
There were low murmurs of sympathy, but none of r
emorse.
“Olivia Urgarna is healthy. Her feet are healing. Her mate’s spark is rooted strong. Do not crowd her now. Olivia Urgarna needs peace and rest.” She grunted and started climbing painstakingly down.
“Olivia Urgarna wants pickles!” Amy called, and some of the humans laughed, Olivia among them, mostly to get the horror of watching Victoria taken away out of her mind.
“Was that a joke?” Doru asked, puzzled.
“When humans are pregnant, sometimes they crave strange foods,” Olivia explained.
Kurlun nudged him and muttered something about gullan females and something called durmunk. Doru’s expression smoothed out and he nodded, making a thoughtful growl in the back of his throat. After a brief pause, he pricked his ears and turned to Olivia and asked if she was having cravings.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I’d like a bag of oranges.”
Kurlun and Doru exchanged bewildered glances and gullan shrugs. “I can pass that along to Liz,” Doru said at last. “Surely she can find some.”
“Furthermore,” Amy continued, in a voice meant to be heard only by Murgull and Olivia, “I’m betting you can throw in some peanut butter for me, because I’m two weeks late.”
Murgull looked at her in surprise, then hauled her off into a sub-chamber by one arm. Kurlun watched her go, an expression of astonishment creeping over his craggy features
Several minutes later, old Murgull limped back to the center rock with Amy in tow, struggled back atop it, and pronounced her pregnant.
Another wave of cheers went up, although even Olivia noticed that they were not as desperately relieved as when her own pregnancy had been revealed. The hunters’ feast took on new life; a case of Diet Dr. Pepper was produced from some personal hoard, with a full can each for Amy and Kurlun.
Olivia was in the process of giving Amy an enthusiastic hug when she noticed Kodjunn moving across the commons. He walked deliberately to the center rock and leapt atop it. His wings fanned out as he surveyed the room, but his eyes did not linger on hers when they met. Alone among the gathered gullan, he was not smiling.
“I have dreamed,” he said.
It took a little time for the humans to catch on to the significance of this, but he had every gulla’s attention at once.
“The sun rose within the mountain and spoke to me in the voice of the Great Spirit. It told me that Olivia will bear a son, and his name will be Somurg.”
Olivia flinched back as she and Murgull exchanged swift glances. She had told no one but Murgull of her intention to name her baby after the ancient gulla. In fact, she hadn’t said anything about Somurg at all since learning she was pregnant.
“A spark of the Great Spirit has entered Olivia,” Kodjunn continued, his eyes burning into hers. “And his essence shapes her child. He will be the fire of his people.”
Low voices rumbled through the cavern. Olivia looked up into Vorgullum’s wide, awe-struck eyes.
“Olivia,” Kodjunn said softly, and she turned back to him uncertainly. “I have made a place for you in our histories. Your name is known to us, and will never be forgotten.”
“That…That honors me, Kodjunn,” she stammered. “But I haven’t actually done anything.”
“The Great Spirit commanded me to prepare a place for you,” Kodjunn repeated with eerie calm. “He has told me that your role extends well beyond the bearing of your son. Humans,” he announced to the silent assembly, “who cannot fly, have roads to walk upon. The Great Spirit showed me the path that Olivia has yet to walk in this world. It extended over all the earth and through the sky, and over the wide waters of the ancient lands. It was revealed to me that her road leads us all out of darkness into light.”
Kodjunn held the assembly in a moment of silence, then jumped off the rock and came towards her. He seized her hands, and Olivia resisted only with the most extreme effort the urge to twist away and maybe slap him. Looking up into his grim face, she was suddenly overwhelmed by the sensation that Kodjunn’s features were being overlapped by someone strange and supernatural.
“The Great Spirit gave me words to speak to you,” Kodjunn said softly, insistently. “He said, ‘Somurg of Three Fathers comes through you. My son comes through you. Olivia Blake, you will see my face again and I will meet you and gather you in hands that are not borrowed. Until then, my blessing lies upon you.’ This he said, and this is truth.”
Olivia stared at him, wanting very much to believe that Kodjunn had been delusional, or made it up out of whole cloth, or even gone temporarily out of his mind, anything to keep from believing that anything he said was even approaching truth. Well, it obviously wasn’t the truth, because Olivia had made up that whole business about her dream of Urga and the Great Spirit’s spark, and anyway, there was no such thing…
How did he know my last name? she thought, horrified.
Kodjunn, silent, released her and walked away.
4
Winter settled into the mountain, and the tribe settled with it. The caves were deep enough to remain largely unaffected by the weather outside, but there were places, particularly in the women’s tunnels and the commons, where icy drafts blew in with the reflected sunshine. Olivia’s days began to run together in a not-entirely-pleasant blur of routine. She would wake to find Vorgullum gone, go down to the women’s tunnels to lend her hands in the never-ending labor there, get thrown out by Horumn, then go to Murgull’s workroom and learn the arts of brewing and binding and healing, and return exhausted to her lair at day’s end to find Vorgullum waiting for her with a meal to share. Sometimes they spoke of the tribe, more often they spoke of inconsequential nonsense or had entirely wordless sex until it was safe to go to sleep. The Great Spirit’s blessing should have brought them closer, but there was a wound between them now, open and raw: the reality of his position and his power to command the human lives…or deaths.
Once, and only once, she tried to say something about Victoria, but as she sat trying to put into words the cruelty of standing her before the tribe and declaring her communal property, he shook his head and actually interrupted her mid-sentence.
“Olivia, every individual in this tribe must work to support the others. That is being a tribe.”
“How is—” she began, and he did it again.
“You are my mate, you are wise, and you are leader of your humans. You are learning Murgull’s skills, and you are passing much of that knowledge on to others of your kind. You are healer, leader, teacher. You do the work of many. From you, we withhold nothing. Gullnar’s Tina is a healer, and she learns from you and from Horumn. Tobi hunts, Liz hunts, Sarahjay hunts. The others work. They skin, they smoke, they sew, they boil soap, clean beddings and coverings, prepare fuel, and fill our storerooms. Because they do these things, the males of this tribe are free to hunt. And you must have seen by now that there are many who cannot hunt. You understand that there are scarcely a handful of us trying to feed all our many mouths.”
She nodded, keeping a tight rein on her frustration, knowing he’d make his point eventually.
“Cheyenne does nothing,” Vorgullum said with venom. “But that is Kodjunn’s problem. He provides for her; we do not. Mojo Woman—” Vorgullum whipped his head aside and spat. “—does worse than nothing. Mojo Woman breeds fear and uncertainty among the weak-minded and there are more of those among us than I would like, but again, she is Grunn’s mate and he speaks for her for some goddamn reason I cannot fathom.” The human curse rolled off his tongue without him seeming to realize it. “Victoria did nothing, and Thugg, having more sense than Grunn and less patience than Kodjunn, refused to tolerate it. It has been now five moons since the arrival of humans in Hollow Mountain; do you deny she had every opportunity to put aside her anger and make herself tribe?”
“You say that like it’s easy!” she accused. “You say that like all she had to do was wake up one night and say, ‘You know, I think I’m okay with this now! Time to be tribe!’”
His face darkened with re
al anger and she shut her mouth with an effort. “Karen,” he growled, “despises Bodual. Still, she works. Not well and not often, but she works. Sarabee has never spoken one word of our language, but she works. Carla has locked herself in the women’s tunnels rather than attend a hunters’ feast with Sutung, but she works. I don’t care if Victoria ever rises from her pit and showers down stars and feathers of joy, but she eats our food and she wears our coverings and she will give something back!”
“That’s cruel!”
“That is life! There are eighty males in this mountain; fifteen of them now have mates and of that number, only six have mates with whom they have some friendship. There are damned few barren females, and all but four are older than Kurlun! Yawa has made a point of working in other ways, and that leaves three females, three, to be mate to the entire tribe! It was not so bad before you came, because all males bore the same burden. But now, it’s different, and all the old frustrations are coming back to the surface and I will not have death bred in this mountain!” he finished at a shout.
When she flinched back he lowered his voice, but his chest was heaving and his eyes showed the whites with rage. “Now there are four females, and yes, one of them is human, and that will help. Do you think they came to her in fours and fives and use her like…” He groped for an analogy and found none. “They don’t. They bring her food and that is all. If she doesn’t want to take their food, she has only to get her own, or earn her own with honest labor. She chooses to couple with males for the things they give her.”
“Of course she chooses that!” Olivia exploded. “She can’t hunt! She can’t climb out to pick her own berries! What else can she do? Would you have her die of hunger just to have something safe to fuck?”
“Yes!” he roared back.
They stared at each other, both breathing hard.
“All right,” she said at last, shaking with anger. “All right. Okay.”