Fargoer

by Hannila, Petteri

  It was very clear that the inhabitants had left in a hurry. There were warm embers in the fireplace and unfinished food on the dishes.

  “Let’s burn it,” Kirre said after they had secured the surroundings of the house. She didn’t dare to do it herself, however, but waited for Aure’s decision. Bjorn said nothing, the Kainu knew his opinion.

  “Burn it,” Aure confirmed.

  The Kainu set the largest house on fire and moved off immediately, their purpose being to catch the escaping southerners.

  The pursuers soon got proof that they were on the right track. There was a metal buckle on the ground, dropped in a hurry, and further on they found a child’s straw doll. The path led the Kainu on toward the south, and they moved rapidly but cautiously, keeping an eye on what was ahead.

  The chase continued into the afternoon with the terrain getting more wet, until finally they reached the edge of the forest. Before their eyes was a wide swamp, with only a few crooked trees growing here and there. Now they knew where the people had escaped to, because in the middle of the swamp was a raised islet that had been surrounded by a simple stockade built to a man’s height, The Kainu could see lookouts watching the edge of the forest through the holes in the construction.

  The Kainu drew together to decide on how to proceed.

  “We must charge from different directions. There can’t be many men there. We will surely prevail,” said Kirre.

  “Many of us will pay with our lives for such folly. We will have to wade through the swamp, across open ground. If they have any skilled archers, their arrows will not miss,” replied Vierra, measuring the distance between the forest’s edge and the islet.

  “We wait for the night, that way they won’t be able to see to shoot. Split up the group and watch from both sides, so they can’t escape,” Bjorn suggested. Nobody had a better proposition, and they had come so far already. Aure was thoughtful, and looked at the swamp with a mysterious look on her face. She nodded at Bjorn, silently accepting his proposal.

  The Kainu dispersed to the forest’s edge to form a blockade, so preventing any attempt to escape, and they waited for the night. No one made a run for from the stockade, however, and both sides waited for the dark, in silence.

  Finally the sun set on the horizon, reddening, and the southerners lit a great bonfire in the middle of the stockade. There it glowed like a flame to a moth to the Kainu as they waited for the darkness and the signal to attack.

  Darkness soon took over the swamp. Kirre took up her drum and started pounding it in an even rhythm. Her example was followed by many others, and the edge of the swamp boomed with the ominous rhythm of the drumming, gathering speed slowly. The crescent moon rose to oversee the spectacle that was being played out beneath it. If fear was eating into the southerners’ hearts, they didn’t try to escape or to cry for mercy. Over the noise of the drumming what sounded like a night bird’s call was suddenly heard, and more than ninety Kainu began simultaneously to cross the swamp to the islet.

  They came like the wolves of the forest, crouched and low, and, in the pale light of the moonlit night, they got close to the palisade before they were noticed. Then there was a yell from the walls, and arrows started flying toward the attacking enemy. The Kainu didn’t respond by shooting back, but only waded on through the swamp. Only a few were struck by the arrows, more out of bad luck than the accuracy of the archer, before the Kainu arrived on the shore of the islet.

  Only then did the Kainu drop their drums and let their own bows sing, directing their shots toward the southern archers who were shooting from behind the poles. Angrily flew the arrows from both sides, with the Kainu arrows mostly striking their intended targets and the southerners’ missing theirs. The Kainu vastly outnumbered the dozen southern men who were defending the stockade.

  Suddenly the Kainu swarmed over the walls with their knives held between their teeth. As soon as their feet touched the ground they fell upon the Southern men like wild beasts. For a moment the defenders held their ground, but soon succumbed to the desperate and blood-filled flurry of the attackers’ blades, reflecting the glow of the fire. For years, the Kainu’s hatred had grown like a rain swollen river because of the injustice they had suffered at the hands of the southerners, and now the river of hate burst its banks flowed over in uncontrollable torrent of blood.

  Vierra was carried along with them, but, while it felt as if her hands were being guided by her brothers’ and sisters’ hatred, she had the feeling that she was observing all this bloodshed from outside of herself. Had the invaders’ slave whips changed her or was it that she never really fitted in? The more the southerners’ blood was spilled, the less she wanted to be part of it. When it was all over, she just felt a great weariness and an emptiness inside her.

  When no opposition remained, and the blood fog lifted from the Kainu’s eyes, they looked around. The fire that burned in the middle of the palisade had started to fade, but it still shed enough light to show, as far from the Kainu as possible, a group of frightened women and children. There were about ten women and twenty children, from infants to those of ten summers. Women grasped their children and children their mothers, like a drowning man grabbing the side of a boat. Their eyes looked glassily at the savages, who had just slain their husbands and fathers. Even the smallest children were not crying anymore, even though they had done so during the onslaught. They sensed that their lives were now hanging by threads, and like fawns in a high grass they tried to hide in their mothers’ hems and laps, completely still.

  But they couldn’t hide, and their mothers’ hems were no aid against the furious warriors. The majority of the Kainu hesitated though, the hatred that churned in their minds started to fade, and they weren’t child murderers. The toughest and angriest hardened their hearts though, Kirre among the first, as she yelled.

  “What are you waiting for? Finish the job! These children will grow to be new fur taxers, murderers and plunderers of women. Strike them all to the ground, and the fire will then carry them to the forests of the underworld, to accompany their dead men!”

  No! I will not kill children,” Vierra yelled in objection. Her will to fight was completely gone, and her thought went again along its old, familiar paths. Kirre took a step towards the people that shivered in the middle, her bloody knife held up high.

  “You weak fool, I will start if nobody else has the courage.”

  “They must be killed, the children will grow to be new taxers, new robbers like Kirre said. Even if we don’t want to,” said Aure. She also lifted her knife and prepared to finish what was still undone.

  Then Bjorn stepped to their way and raised his hand as a sign to stop.

  “Wait, warriors of Kainu. I have a suggestion. We are not child killers, and it is in vain to slay powerless women too. You northern sisters and brothers have no use for these people, but we in the south have a lot of burned land to clear, household animals to tend to and crops to thresh, more than we can do ourselves. Give these children and women to us, and we will raise them to be Kainu, who will never steal women or tax furs. They will grow calluses in their hands from the work, but they’ll keep their lives and won’t suffer unnecessarily, as long as they work.”

  “Let them go rather than make them slaves,” spat Vierra. Her grim expression revealed her opinion in this matter. However, she was not in a position to affect the chieftains’ decision.

  “We will not,” said Aure and took a breath. Everyone was ready to hear the chieftain’s word.

  “Bjorn can keep the women and children, we will take them with us to the north. Here we will burn everything, the dead southern men and our own fallen sisters and brothers, at sunrise. Everything that’s valuable will be evenly divided between those who participated in the battle. Now, let’s rest and treat the wounded.”

  The chieftain’s order was the law. The dark night went on, and there was no sign yet of a new day on the skyline.

  In the heart of the swamp

  A c
old wind from the east woke Vierra up from her uneasy sleep. Around her, the Kainu slept the restless sleep of those triumphant in the bloodshed. There was only a faint glimmer of light in the eastern sky, like a passing thought that the night might be ending.

  Vierra flinched as she heard voices in the dark. Somebody was talking by the fire in hushed tones. Two figures were drawn together against the dim light. Vierra was lying outside of the flickering light of the dying flames. She rolled over and onto her knees, and, taking her spear with her, crawled away into the darkness, making no sound.

  The moon gave light just enough to see the shadow-like shapes of two people, one large and one small, when they left the camp and walked down from the neck of the land and into the swamp. Vierra followed the figures in the dark like a shadow, wondering how they could see the mires and tussocks in front of them. Vierra could see the black traces of the footprints of the ones she followed, and stepped into them as she walked. She knew that she couldn’t cross the swamp on her own in the darkness before dawn.

  Her hand found its way to the necklace that was under her fur coat. She had done it many times during the passing days. The touch of the cool bones calmed her nerves. She couldn’t understand why someone would go like that, into treacherous ground in the dark.

  The duo finally stopped in the middle of the swamp. They had walked a good while away from the dry land and the burned palisade. The shimmer in the eastern sky started to spread, and Vierra could see better around her. A huge quagmire spread on front of her eyes. It was like a black, round eye. A hole that lead somewhere, a destination of which Vierra didn’t want to know anything about.

  When a voice finally broke the silence, Vierra recognized it as Aure. Deep inside her she had known it, who she was following, but for some reason had hoped that it was not so.

  “Behold, oh Great Spirit, I have brought a child like we agreed, will you now give me mine back?”

  From somewhere in Aure’s direction came the answer, with a shrill, frenzied voice. The inhuman note of the voice echoed in the desolate swamp, so that it couldn’t be said where it came from exactly. So repulsive it was that it raised Vierra’s neck hair and filled her mind with uneasiness and fear.

  “Only one, I know you have many. I want more, one is not enough.”

  “But you promised my youngest daughter back! You said you can bring her back from the underworld! I have given you so much already, fish, meat, men too.” Aure’s voice was cracked with pain and despair.

  “Dead, already slain men they’ve been. Only one alive and he was ruined with mushroom. I want children, lively and fresh. There is power in children I can use to bring your girl from among the dead. If you bring all the children you have, I will give you all your three daughters.”

  Aure was silent for a long time and then replied, with a broken voice.

  “Very well. Here she is, brown-haired and beautiful.” And she started to sing, as submissive as a slave only can be.

  Spirits of the gloomy swampland

  Little people in the deep

  Chorus of the helpless children

  Victims who the death will keep

  Hear me good, my offer take

  Down now pull him to you

  Eat him with your hungry mouths

  All blood, gut, all sinew

  Give me luck and grant me hope

  Give me back what life did steal

  Though I come from world above you

  All my wounds and ailments heal

  The girl, seven summers old, had begun to quietly and hopelessly weep during the song. Aure flicked the hood from her head, revealing her night-black hair that was here and there streaked with white wisps that were clearly visible in the growing eastern light. She knelt on the ground and grabbed the girl around the neck, ready to push her head under the water.

  “Let her go!” Vierra’s commanding voice concealed the fear that was eating her insides.

  Aure twirled around. On her face shame, anger, fear and sorrow took turns in a confusing flurry.

  “Go away, please. Let me be in peace. This doesn’t concern you.” Aure didn’t get up, but spread her arms into a pleading gesture. They shook uncontrollably.

  “This is madness, I can’t just stand and watch.”

  Aure got up unsheathing her knife. She stepped toward Vierra in the dark of the night, and the blade flashed as she lifted it, ready to stab. Vierra grabbed her spear with both hands, and turned its head against Aure.

  “Knife fights are done for us, cousin. Give up, or do you wish to try against a spear?”

  The last sparkle of hope in Aure’s eyes died out. For a moment she just stayed there, immobile. Then, suddenly, a high-pitched and unnatural voice yelled.

  “I do!”

  Aure attacked, suddenly and blindly, and surprised Vierra completely. They were separated by the spear that Vierra was steadily holding, however, and it was directed at Aure’s stomach. Aure, ignoring the spear, lunged forward with inhuman strength. With a thunk, the spear impaled the attacker’s stomach but even so she came on, the spear-shaft sliding through her body, and attacked Vierra. The battling women reeled and fell into a quagmire, the very same which Aure had only minutes earlier planned to drown the little girl. The girl crawled away from the combatants, but was so stunned that she just watched the fight with enlarged eyes.

  During the confusion, Aure’s knife fell to the water, and she grabbed Vierra by the throat with both hands. Her face was distorted into a grimace of pain and unnatural anger.

  Vierra felt like death herself had gone for her throat. The grip was cold and hard as iron, and it froze the blood in the struggling woman’s veins. Any thoughts of overpowering Aure escaped her mind and were replaced by blind panic. Try as she might she could not break the grip around her neck. It would have been easier for a hare to get away from a wolf’s jaws. In the quagmire, the water only came half way up her thigh, but Vierra had the feeling that cold hands were grabbing at her feet too. Hands that dragged her deeper and deeper, into the murky embrace of the swamp. Soon they were up to their waists in water, then it was up to their necks. All the time there was the inhuman voice which sang and screamed.

  You will see the soul of swampland

  Feel the cold inside the earth

  Touch of death is on your shoulder

  End will bring to warrior’s worth

  Vierra couldn’t fight anymore, and the water engulfed her completely. For a moment she felt great relief. How good it would be to take a lungful of swamp water and fall asleep. Leave all this pain behind and meet her late son and husband again. Vierra closed her eyes and got ready to die. The thought of dying didn’t make her sad at all. The fighting she-wolf inside her was silent for once, and didn’t fight back.

  Her hand hit the necklace that was hanging about her neck. Always so cool to the touch, the bones now felt burning like hot iron. They woke her up from the slumber of horror that she had sank into.

  The spirits flew into the world through the necklace like a river flooding through an ice dam. Vierra saw them only as gray, foggy figures in the black water, but she could feel their ancient strength. Like a tidal wave they went for Aure. The scream that left Aure’s lips didn’t carry underwater. Vierra, dazed and confused, was overcome with a strange anger.

  “Don’t help me. I curse you, why do you help me? I want to go with my loved ones.” But not one listened to her pleas.

  Vierra suddenly realized she was free. The she-wolf inside her woke up in an instance, and she swam to the surface, convulsing. She gagged and coughed out swamp water as she grabbed for a tussock at the edge of the quagmire.

  After taking a few gasps of breath and gathering her strength, Vierra pulled herself out of the mire and looked around. Dawn of the new day was lighting up the region, but there were no sounds from the direction of the Kainu camp. She doubted that anyone had seen or heard, from so far away, what had happened in the quagmire. As she lay there amid the silence it was only the feeb
le sobbing of the girl that told her that she was still alive.

  With a plop, the swamp gave back what it had taken. Vierra’s spear protruded from Aure’s stomach like a grotesque, crooked mast, and the early morning light made her look bloodied all over. And she was bloody; around her stomach the water was colored dark, and more gushed out of her mouth. Miraculously she was still alive, coughing blood and water from inside of her.

  Vierra suddenly felt alive again, and she pulled her cousin up. She tried to staunch the bleeding, but the grievous wound was beyond all help. It would drip Aure’s life out, one surge after another, until she’d finally die. With a raspy voice she said:

  “Vierra, I wish you’d let go of my hand all that time ago so my life wouldn’t have ended in shame like this.”

  “Don’t speak, I’ll take you back to camp,” Vierra said helplessly.

  “Flee! The fate of one who kills the chieftain is death, and Kirre is the next in line. She will kill someone, even though nobody is guilty. I have disgraced us all.” Aure sighed deeply, and fell silent. So died the high chieftain of the Kainu, in the arms of her cousin. Vierra and the little girl were left alone.

  Finally Vierra got up and went to the girl, who was coiled upon the ground. She took the girl up into her arms and calmed her, fondling her dirty, brown hair. Aure’s blood spread from her hands to the hair of the girl, but neither one cared.

  Vierra didn’t know if she was comforting the girl or the other way around. She had imagined Aure would rule the tribe until her elder years. For a moment she didn’t know what to do next.

  The sun rose above the horizon, and Vierra got up. The words of the First Mother had now come true, and there was no going back to her tribe for her, unless she found a good explanation for what had happened. She decided fast and acted accordingly.

  “Girl, can you find your way out of this swamp on your own, to your mother?”