by Marius Thue
The tribesman shakes his head and spits blood on the ground. Thoke reaches out a hand and helps him to his feet.
“You have quite a thrust with that left hand,” the man says while holding his knees. “That's enough I guess. I've seen what I needed to see.” He smiles and wipes blood away from his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Didn't even know I had it in me.” Thoke smiles back, shrugging.
“We have fierce competition from other tribes, so we could use strong fighters. You can all tag along for now, but you better contribute. Some day you can pledge your loyalty to me if I see you as useful enough,” the tribesman holds out a hand. “I'm Garnek, son of Sernak. Chief of this tribe.”
“I'm Thoke, son of Thorkar. This is Neera and my son, Rhekir.” Thoke reaches out and they grab each other by the forearms, holding on tight to show their good intentions.
CHAPTER 8
Eight years later, Thoke, Neera and Rhekir have settled in nicely with their new tribe. They have been able to keep Thoke's abilities a secret. Neera still feels people wouldn't understand. She's afraid they will grow to fear him; superstitions about evil spirits taking human form are widely believed among the tribe. Such a secret hasn't been easy to hide, so Thoke often hunts alone so no one will see his true capabilities. Things such as his hearing and sight has been easier to explain away.
The tribe has quickly raised camp down by the coast. Waves splashes on Mekar and Janeg, who sit on the bank, cutting up skins and wood for some boats.
Chief Garnek calmly walks around to watch the tribe take part in the work. Hair has started to fall from the top of his head, only leaving some on the sides. Mekar can see the sun reflecting off his friend’s bare head as he walks by below. Garnek's light brown beard grows more impressive by each moon, though.
Every time the chief approaches someone, they pick up their work pace. Mekar, on the other hand, drops his equipment to take a break.
“Come on now, Mekar. We have to hurry if we are to get across the strait before dark,” urges Janeg.
“Relax for a bit,” Mekar answers while lying back and stretching out his legs. “You stress too much. Your brother's the chief. That means you're entitled to some rest.”
“No, that means I must work even harder so as not to fall out of favor.” Janeg hurries up as Garnek silently walks past them again. “But being his best friend has some advantages, I see.” Janeg looks loathingly at Mekar, who simply smiles in response, brushes his chin-length brown hair away from his face, and closes his eyes.
In contrast to his brother, Janeg has a longer light brown hair, which he has tied in a ponytail. This seems to be the only thing Janeg holds over his older brother.
He's a bit shorter, not nearly as massively built, and can never grow more than a mustache, some stubble on the chin, and some stray whiskers. Janeg has always been close to measuring up to his brother but never quite got there. Most of his life has been spent trying to impress his brother instead, and he will never leave his side. Janeg is forever loyal and never crosses his chief on any subject.
Mekar also stands loyal to Garnek but has never cared enough to impress him. Even though he knows how to defend himself, he would never dream of fighting with either of the two brothers. Mekar is happy with being of average size and would rather fight from a distance with his bow if it comes to combat.
On a hilltop close by, Thoke sits, listening. Neera has maintained the thick braids on each side of his head. It feels nice not to have hair blowing in his face, so Thoke does not object. The knot on his chin also remains, which Thoke doesn't mind either.
Thoke masters his ability to filter out sounds much better now. In the forest he can hear a squirrel land on a branch. Or was it a crow perhaps? With no flap of wings, Thoke settles on it being a squirrel. He nods in agreement with himself.
Hearing weak sounds from far away is easy enough; figuring out what made them is much more difficult. There's a particular sound he's listening for right now, however: the sound of people. Thoke’s new tribe isn't the only one settling on the coast in the spring. Many tribes wander up and down the coast all year.
Every spring, a tribe will come to this spot, where there is a race to secure the best island. The island this approaching tribe wants is the same island Garnek's tribe has been coming to for years. There has only been one time under his leadership that the tribe has arrived too late.
Garnek's father, Sernak, saw their misfortune painted in the stars in the nights before. Sernak was once the chief but gave up the power to his oldest son, dedicating his final years to the gods. He is now the tribe’s shaman, since the previous shaman ate some bad mushrooms and wandered into the sea to drown. Hunting and other hard physical endeavors for Sernak are a thing of the past.
A hard life has left its mark on the old man. Sernak's body is covered in scars, a true sign of a violent past. He limps around the camp, telling people what they are doing wrong.
“Don't tie it like that, Gerak!” Sernak yells at his grandsons most of all. “Terot, get to work already! Your big brother might be doing it wrong, but at least he's doing something!”
“Yes, Grandfather, calm down,” Terot answers like only a twelve-year-old boy can.
“Leave my boys alone, old man. How good were you at making ropes at age twelve?” Garnek comments.
“Hey now, Gerak is fourteen summers this year, and even at Terot's age, I could make ropes with my eyes closed!” Sernak points a finger up at his much larger son, grabs his walking stick, and wobbles along to find someone else to tell off.
Thoke sits atop his hill with a wide grin on his face. He's heard the entire conversation clearly. He can also hear Rhekir playing by the stony water’s edge. The boy has lived for eight summers this year and always finds new things to play with. Today’s toys are small crabs, which there are hundreds of here. They scurry under rocks and hide in the seaweeds. Rhekir often sits by himself and can stay entertained for most of a day.
Thoke sees much of both himself and Neera in his son. He's dark of hair and has brown eyes, just like his mother. His parents’ courage seems to be absent in him, however. A slightly larger crab crawls out from under a rock. Rhekir releases a whimper and a squeal as he spots the sideways moving animal.
“Eeek!” He quickly looks around to check if anyone saw or heard him. Almost the entire tribe starts to howl in laughter, and the boy’s face turns a deep red shade.
“What a hunter you will become, Rhekir!” Mekar laughs as he gets to his feet. “Perhaps you should become only a gatherer instead, or would the blueberries jump out and scare you too?”
Everyone except Neera and Thoke laughs along. On the hilltop Thoke lowers his head in one part shame and one part pity for the boy. Neera walks over to her son, who tries to hide his face in his hands.
“Come here now, Rhekir. Don't mind them,” She takes him in her arms. “One day you will show them how brave you can be.” She squeezes him tightly, and he does the same.
Just as Rhekir begins to feel better, his three-year-old sister comes stomping toward them.
“Ahhh! Grrr!” she roars while trying to step on the fleeing crabs.
“Learn from your sister, Rhekir, then you will be fine,” Sernak says with his old, hoarse voice.
Larii was born during an unusually cold winter. Sernak pronounced that it was this cold that made her hair a bright blond and her eyes icy-blue. Thoke and Neera know otherwise.
Thoke's mother, Sira, and his brother, Skarn, also shared these unusual features. “It's in her blood,” Neera says. She is sure that the gods have reached down from the stars to touch them. “Their touch can make many changes to a human,” she says as well.
On the hilltop, Thoke lifts his head up in pride. Larii keeps surprising him every day. Even at such a young age, she shows signs of fearlessness. Every time he looks at her, he thinks of his mother. It makes him full of hope that he might see her and the others again one day.
Thoke smiles wide at the
thought, but it’s quickly whisked away. He can hear voices coming from the woods. Carefully, he rises. With his ears focused on the sounds, he tries to figure out how far away they might be. It's no good. There's too much chatter and it all blends together, coming from different locations.
Renai, a short, black-haired woman has seen him stand up, and walks up behind him.
“How many?” she asks. Renai rarely smiles and always seems tense and on edge.
“Many. Get them to hurry,” Thoke answers.
Renai runs down to the camp. Her coal-black hair is woven into a long, thick braid which hangs behind her in the wind.
“Let's get across the strait now. People are coming,” she says, beginning to help with the boats.
“When did my youngest child start to bark commands?” Sernak chuckles.
“The day I realized both my brothers are weaker than I am.” A hint of a smile cracks in the corner of Renai's mouth, but quickly fades.
“Ha ha!” Garnek laughs loudly. “You heard the mighty one! Get your lazy asses moving!”
People begin working in a hurry. Only the boats matter now. Garnek makes his way up to Thoke.
“How long do we have?” he asks, peering toward the trees.
“Not long. How many boats do we have ready?” Thoke asks, keeping his eyes locked on the forest’s edge.
“We have three which only lack a few finishing touches.” Garnek’s eyes reveal his concern. “That will do, I guess. We will start by sending the youngest across first.”
The boats only have enough room to carry four adults, so they will have to take turns. Sleds and other equipment will have to be tied to the back of the boats as they cross. Before Garnek returns, the boats are already placed in the water.
“We will build more later. Janeg, Mekar, Neera, and Renai, you will stay here with me and Thoke. We'll be the last to cross,” Garnek commands.
The small boats of animal skin and wood glide across the water with women and children first. Every boat must cross several times to get everyone over to the island.
As the last ones gets ready to leave, Thoke sees people emerging from the trees. The five members of the tribe who remain have drawn their weapons standing besides Thoke on the hill. They have to keep the intruders away while the last boats makes its final crossing.
A round, hairy man walks out of the forest and toward the hill. He has to cross a small plain before the ascent.
“Hold it right there! Let your intentions be known!” Garnek shouts. The man keeps walking until Mekar draws his bow, aiming it at him. With his hands held high, he stops.
“We're gonna need that island!” the man shouts. “We're many more than you. Surrender and you will not be hurt!”
Everyone’s eyes are fixed on Garnek, who has a crooked smile on his face.
“Go back the way you came, and then you will not be hurt!” Garnek growls while holding his spear up high.
“You might be tough, but what awaits where we came from is worse still!” the man yells and waves his hands toward the forest.
From out of the shadows of the trees, nearly fifty warriors appear, all with weapons in hand. Slowly, they make their way toward the hill where Mekar lets his arrow point to the ground.
Renai holds one dagger in each hand. She snarls like she's about to attack. Garnek grabs her braid and pulls her back.
“Easy now, Sister. We must try to stall this,” he whispers.
The warriors have now encircled the entire hill and are ready to storm up to meet them. Thoke takes a closer look at them and realizes how thin and ragged they all are. The round man steps forward again. His pelts are all torn up and an open wound dominates most of his left cheek.
“Garnek, right?” the man asks.
“Who wants to know?” Mekar answers quickly and is met by an angered look from Garnek, who clearly did not appreciate not being able to answer for himself. Mekar looks down and away when he realizes his mistake.
“I am Horvag, brother to Hoster. He was a man of your tribe once, am I right?”
“You would be the half-brother as far as I remember,” Garnek says. “Who you're a brother of will not help, however. This island has been ours for years, and this area cannot sustain both our tribes at once.” Garnek grips his spear tightly with both hands.
“I need that island,” Horvag says, backing away. “This is your last warning. Surrender or die.”
“Never!” Garnek roars before throwing his spear with full force toward Horvag.
With a jerk, Horvag pulls a man in front of him to use as a shield. The spear hits the man in the throat and goes through, stopping right in front of Horvag's nose. Screaming and howling, the warriors begins running up the hill.
“To the sea!” Garnek commands. He has spotted the three boats coming back to shore.
Mekar and Neera release a few arrows down toward their attackers. Renai is the first to run down the hill, meeting the warriors straight on, swinging around her daggers and almost disappearing among her foes. It’s the splashing of blood that gives away the short woman’s location as she makes her way through the warriors.
Her movements resemble more a dance than fighting, and no one is better at this kind of dancing than Renai. One by one, the attackers fall from her deadly dance before Thoke makes it down to her side. Together, they break through the line, creating an opening for the others to follow.
Sighing, Horvag flings the lifeless man on the ground. He looks up the hill but can only see his own men disappearing on the other side. After getting up there himself, he can see the others running down toward the sea. Ten of his own men or so lie dead in a trail behind them, creating a river of blood on the rocky ground.
Thoke grabs Neera and lifts her in his arms, running far in front. One of the boats has reached the shore, and Thoke quickly places Neera in it. Then he turns toward the attackers, who slow down when they see him running and roaring right at them.
Janeg and Mekar jump into the boat with Neera and the rower.
“Go, now!” Thoke yells. One of the attackers runs toward him, spear up. Thoke dodges to the left and sends the man flying with a powerful punch to the gut. The man takes another down as he lands ten steps away.
In the meantime, Garnek and Renai have boarded the next boat, not realizing how far away Thoke still is. With a lunge, Thoke runs to the boat and gets in.
On the hill, Horvag stands paralyzed as he tries to understand what he just witnessed. He falls to his knees when he realizes that almost half his warriors have perished. The rest stop by the water’s edge and can only look on as Thoke and the others row across the water.
Safely on the island, they drag the boats ashore and are met by the others who could only watch the battle unfold. Larii runs down to the water and picks up a smooth, round rock. She chucks it toward the mainland with all her force, roaring as she leaps in the air. The rock plunks into the water only a couple of steps away.
“Calm down now, Larii. They won't get over to this island for a while,” Thoke says before lifting her up over his head. The girl’s laughter fills the air.
He puts her back down, and she runs off. Behind a bush, he can see Rhekir's legs poking out; the boy must still be ashamed about what happened earlier. Before he gets over to him, Garnek begins barking out orders.
“We need to make camp and fast. On this island there are less trees than there are fingers on my hands. And they're not much bigger than them either. So some of us will have to row back over to get wood,” Garnek looks up, holding one hand in front of his face. “The sun hangs high now so we still have time. The other tribe has already left, I see, probably to bury their dead.” He looks over to the other side and then at Renai. She's cleaning her shiny, black stone daggers in the sea.
“Thoke, how you see and hear the things you do, I will never know. You'll go over first and keep a lookout.”
Not long after they cross and begins to fell some trees, Thoke walks back up to the hill. From there he can hear
the other tribe disappearing further and further into the woods. They have taken all their dead with them, leaving only pools and trails of blood on the stony ground. After a while, the sounds become so faint he can barely hear them anymore.
The camp is set up about twenty steps away from shore. The boats are dragged further up and turned upside down. Floating logs across the strait is easy enough work, and they soon have enough to erect some nice looking huts.
The open sea lies on the other side of their little island, and Thoke can hear the waves crashing against the steep rocks. Here by the strait the waves are calm and gently wash on to the beach.
Their campsite is located in a valley with small hills embracing them on every side except the strait. There's also a slow rise toward the center of the island. This way the campsite's mostly sheltered from the wind coming from the great sea. Therefore, the campsite is well protected with easy access to the calm strait below. On the other side of the strait, a small stream runs out into the ocean. This will be their closest fresh water source. Almost every day, they will have to row across and collect water in bags made of animal intestine and hollowed out bones.
Every family has the responsibility to set up their own hut. Garnek sits on a stone teaching his sons, Gerak and Terot, how to do it.
“Redirecting the water is very important so we won't get rainwater inside. Canals will have to be dug to lead the water down to the sea. Pits will also have to be dug where the huts will stand. Then we place larger rocks inside. We will cover them with twigs and pine needles so it gets nice and snug in there.” Garnek smiles just thinking about it. The boys give each other a queer look, knowing none of them understand.
The sun begins to fall beyond the horizon. Most of the huts are ready. They're not much to look at, simple logs pushed against each other and covered by animal skins, but they will do tonight. Later, they will make them more solid and permanent.
Thoke and Neera are the first to lay the last hand on their work. Thoke grabs a strap of skin from his sled and ties a fourth knot around the logs, just to make sure they stay together. In their sled they carry most of what they bring with them. It's mostly skins and furs, but sometimes nuts, roots, berries, dried fish, and meat. In the summer Thoke carries it on his back, but in the winter it slides behind him in the snow.