by Kevin Ashman
Seren stared at him in silence and. The more she learnt about these people the stranger they become.
‘Do you come all the way here every time someone dies?’ she asked.
‘No, our kind is always on the hunt for the Mammoth and walk throughout our lives. As we fall, we leave our dead in the secret places. When the time is right the women of the Mwrllwch collect all the bones of our people and bring them here.’
‘You collect them all?’ she asked
‘Sometimes they are not there, the beasts have taken them or they cannot be found. Those that are found take their place here, those who are not, are the Mwrllwch who will never enter the better place.’
‘Will you lie here when you die?’ she asked quietly
‘If Huan wills it,’ he answered sombrely. They stared in silence into the giant crypt before once again Morlak’s guttural voice broke through their reverie and commanded them into action. ‘Enough!’ he said eventually. ‘It is time to go!’
Once again, they continued on their subterranean journey, Seren’s head swimming with more questions than answers.
----
Chapter 29
Golau groaned as he slowly regained consciousness.
‘Keep still!’ commanded Afon, pressing a corner of his fur gently to the bleeding wound on Golau’s skull. ‘Your head is cracked and we have no herbs to close the wound. You may die.’ Afon spat several times into his palm, added soil from the floor, and mixed it into a paste before applying the muddy mixture into the wound.
‘Where are we?’ he asked.
‘We have been taken by the Baal,’ said Afon applying more paste to his friend’s head, ‘and we lie at the bottom of a pit.’
Golau struggled to sit up, the pain in his head excruciating.
‘How long have we been here?’ he asked.
‘Two days and you have slept through them both.’
As Golau’s eyesight cleared, he became aware of Gafr sitting opposite, holding his cape folded against his own terrible injury.
‘How are you, friend?’ asked Gafr.
‘You still call me friend after what I did to you?’ responded Golau.
‘Afon told me why,’ said Gafr. ‘You chose well, now I can take many of the filth with me when I die.’
Golau looked up at the pit edge. It was out of reach and there was no way it could be reached.
‘Where are the Mwrllwch?’ he asked.
‘Aarnoy and Brola escaped when we were attacked,’ answered Afon, ‘They took Kraiach elsewhere when we arrived. We are in the middle of the stone village.’
Golau looked at the prone body curled up in the corner of the pit.
‘Who is that?’
‘He was lowered in last night,’ said Afon, ‘and has been sleeping ever since. I have been too busy looking after your wounds to ask.’
‘Wake him,’ said Golau.
Gafr kicked out at the sleeping body, repeating the action until the man sat up and stared at the new occupants of his tiny world.
They looked at the frightened old man. Afon squatted before him staring at the old man’s features.
‘Who are you?’ he asked.
The old man’s eyes widened in terror and he forced himself backwards even further.
‘He understands me,’ said Afon, ‘what is your name?’
The old man’s eyes flitted from Golau to Gafr to Afon, not answering the question.
‘Answer him!’ screamed Gafr, his patience non-existent as he tried to contain his pain.
‘Gafr!’ snapped Afon, ‘let me deal with this. He turned back to the old man, ‘Do you understand me?’ he asked gently. ‘What is your name?’
‘This man’s face is known to me,’ said Golau quietly. ‘What clan are you from?’
The old man stared back through semi-glazed eyes.
‘Clan,’ he repeated, ‘you must have a clan.’
Afon turned around to face Golau.
‘He is mad,’ he said, ‘we will get no sense from him.’ He returned to sit alongside Golau, looking up at the sky framed at the top of the pit.
‘We have to get out of here; I don’t think the Baal will keep us alive for long.’
‘I can’t believe we were so stupid’ said Golau with a grimace, ‘we walked straight into their trap.’
‘Even Kraiach did not know they were there,’ said Afon, ‘what chance did we have?’
‘No matter,’ said Golau, ‘we came here to release our people from the clutches of the Baal, yet we have ended up as captives ourselves. When they come, we will take as many as possible with us’
‘They have taken our weapons,’ said Afon.
‘Then we will use our hands,’ said Golau. ‘Every life we take will be one less to prey on our people next time. Are there guards?’
‘Not that we see, but they throw down food and water at night.’
‘If you can call it that,’ growled Gafr.
There was an unspoken agreement within the pit as they all stared upward. They may not have long to live, but they would make their lives as expensive as possible. Eventually, as it got dark, they became aware of a silhouette standing far above on the edge of the pit.
‘Are you dead, Hair-face?’ came the familiar grating sound of Kraynar’s voice.
‘I am not easy to kill, filth’ responded Golau.
‘This is true,’ came the reply, ‘and for this I am grateful’ He issued an order over his shoulder and more movement was detected. ‘I want you alive, Hair-face’ he continued. ‘Eat now for you will need your strength.’ A bucket of entrails was emptied into the pit, splashing their mess over the occupants below, and a skin of water was lowered by rope. The captors above disappeared and Afon sifted through the offal for anything that was edible. Retrieving some meat from the mess, he shared it out between the three inmates closely watched by the old man. Golau shuffled over to the old man and offered him his share.
‘Take it,’ he said, ‘I am not hungry.’
Tentatively, the old man took the offered meat and quickly rammed it into his mouth, pushing himself back against the wall.
‘Give me the water’ said Golau and Afon passed him the skin.
Again, Golau offered the old man a share, and again it was taken carefully by mistrusting hands. The old man gulped greedily on the water before handing it back to the hunter. Golau shuffled back to his original position and leaned back staring up at the darkening sky above. The clouds had cleared and the sky was a myriad of sparkling stars framed by the edge of the pit.
‘Look well, Golau,’ said Gafr, ‘we know not how many more skies we will gaze upon.’
‘Perhaps so,’ said Golau, ‘but at least tonight it is a good sky.’
A quiet sound from the other side of the pit broke the silence.
‘Coeden,’ came the whisper.
They all turned to look at the old man
‘What was that?’ asked Afon.
‘Coeden,’ he repeated through the black stumps of rotten teeth, ‘my name is Coeden!’
----
Seren and Morlak sat resting at the side of the tunnel eating sparingly of their rations.
‘How much farther?’ asked Seren.
‘I have not travelled this way before,’ answered Morlak.
‘Then how do you know we are going the right way?’
‘Do you not smell the fresh air that comes down from the other side?’ he asked.
Seren sniffed a bit harder, but still only detected the dampness that had accompanied them over the last few hours. The difference in these passageways compared to the others they had travelled were that they had not been hewn by the hands of men, but had been formed naturally by ancient lava flows pouring from subterranean magma chambers millions of years ago. Water had seeped through the rock above, eventually finding its way into the tunnels, forming isolated pools. Within the hour, they came to the end of the tunnel, a small opening not much bigger than Morlak’s shoulders and thickly covered with tangled
undergrowth. Morlak cut away some of the vegetation and they wriggled through, squinting as the light hit their eyes. Though they didn’t know it, they looked down into the same caldera that had astonished Golau days earlier, though from a different viewpoint.
They descended the slope to the edge of the rainforest and made for the edge of the lake. As they reached the water’s edge, Seren dropped gratefully to her knees and sucked the clear warm water directly from the lake. Having slated her thirst, she dipped he head under the water to refresh herself, but as she wrung the water from her hair, she became aware of Morlak standing motionless at the edge of the trees staring at her in silence.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked feeling awkward at his apparent interest.
Morlak did not answer.
‘Morlak?’
Gradually, she realized that he was not staring at her but behind her, and she turned around quickly, letting out a horrified scream and falling backwards onto the rocks as she come face to face with the threatening features of another man less than two paces away.
The stranger reached down to grab her as she frantically tried to push herself away using her feet to propel her prone body backwards away from the danger.
‘Morlak help!’ she screamed fighting helplessly as the stranger grabbed her and pulled her to her feet.
‘Be quiet!’ he said angrily. ‘You will attract attention.’
Seren recognised the voice before making out the familiar features beneath the unkempt hair and beard.
‘Brola!’ she shouted excitedly realizing that it was indeed Morlak’s clan-mate. ‘You frightened me to death, you great ugly Baboon,’ and she threw her arms around him in greeting. Brola stood unflinching and Morlak tilted his head watching the strange exhibition of affection. Seren released Brola from her embrace and looked past him.
‘Where are the others?’ she asked excitedly.
‘They are taken,’ he said and brushed past her to stop before his colleague, raising his spear up in greeting.
‘Morlak!’ he said.
‘Brola!’ replied his clan-mate.
‘We will eat,’ said Morlak and the two Neanderthal sat down where they stood, reaching for their food bags. Seren looked on in astonishment at the apparent snub and stormed over to the sitting hunters shoving Brola in the shoulder with the palm of her hand.
‘Taken,’ she said, ‘what do you mean taken?’
Brola looked up at her.
‘Sit,’ he ordered, ‘eat’
‘No!’ she shouted. ‘I want to know what happened.’
‘Sit first,’ he said, ‘eat, and then we talk.’ He threw her the small feathered body of an un-plucked songbird, the colours of the plumage still striking even in this brief posthumous flight. Realizing she would get no answers, she joined the two Mwrllwch on the ground and reached into her bag for her flints. Brola reached out and grabbed her wrist,
‘No fire,’ he said staring into her eyes, ‘they will see.’
Seren recognized the importance of the precautions and following their example, plucking the soft plumage from the breast of the dead bird and she bit into the stringy flesh managing to get two full mouthfuls of raw, yet nutritious meat.
The two males carefully stripped and ate every bit of meat off every tiny bone on each birds frame. Finally, they snapped the tiny skulls from the necks and popped them into their mouths, crushing them between their powerful molars to reach the tasty brains and spitting out the beak and sharp bits of bony skull. When they had finished, they took a drink and Brola finally told the others the story of the capture of Golau and the other three hunters.
As normal, during the trek through the forest, Brola and Aarnoy had hung back protecting the group from attack from the rear. Luckily, on this occasion, they had been so far back that the waiting Baal, lying hidden in the bushes thought that the four that passed were the complete party and one Baal warrior had stood up in the undergrowth, giving their presence away before realizing there were more travellers further back. Realizing there were far too many Baal for them to take on, the two Neanderthal disappeared quickly into the undergrowth, melting into the shadows of the forest.
Though they had been seen, the pursuing Baal soon lost their trail and they stayed high in the branches of a tree for two days, watching the search parties pass close by far below. Finally, they had descended from the trees and retreated deeper into the forest, hiding in the densest undergrowth, and hunting only at dusk or dawn, spending the rest of the day hidden in the thicket like frightened hares.
‘Where is Aarnoy?’ she asked.
‘Seven sleeps ago he returned to our people to get help.’
‘So what do we do now?’ asked Seren.
‘Now we wait,’ said Brola, ‘there is nothing we can do for Kraiach or Golau. We must wait for Aarnoy to bring help.’
‘Even if he gets through,’ said Seren, ‘it will take weeks if not months. We cannot wait that long.’
‘Aarnoy will travel fast and use the hidden ways. He will be back here within a moon’s cycle.’
‘If that’s so, why did it take us so long?’ she asked.
Though neither answered, their sympathetic stare was enough for her to realize that the humans were slowing them up, and the Mwrllwch could have travelled much quicker without them.
They withdrew deeper into the forest edge and followed Brola as he picked his way carefully through the undergrowth stopping before a particularly dense and thorny bramble bush. The two Neanderthal looked around, sampling the air with their sensitive noses, before Brola dropped to his knees and pulled out a discretely placed bundle of loose undergrowth to reveal a small, tunnelled entrance into the thicket. Seren followed him in and within a few seconds, they reached a larger space that had been cleared by flint blade, with all the cuttings forced back against the edge and roof. It was a simple, yet well-hidden refuge, which Brola had formed a few days earlier to hide from the hunting Baal. The thick foliage above would deflect most of any rain that fell and the floor had been scraped clean to provide a surprisingly comfortable base. Morlak closed the entrance and the three settled down in their furs, listening to the sounds of the forest.
----
The three hunters stared at the old prisoner in surprise.
‘It speaks,’ said Afon and crawled forward to sit in front of him
‘Hello, Coeden,’ he said, ‘I have heard that name before. What clan are you from, old man?’
‘The Mammoth-clan,’ interrupted Golau before the man could speak. ‘He is from the Mammoth-clan.’
‘How do you know?’ asked Afon looking over to Golau.
‘Do you not know his face, Afon?’ asked Golau, ‘Look closely.’ Afon turned back to Coeden and examined his features.
‘All the Mammoth-clan died out many years ago,’ he said. Tan was the last…’ he stopped suddenly, as he recognized the features.
‘He looks like Tan,’ he said quietly and moved some hair from the captive’s face.
‘Tan has often told of his early years with the Mammoth-clan,’ said Golau. ‘He also told of how a hunting party went onto the ice in search of meat. They never returned. His brother was part of that hunting party and his name was Coeden.’
‘But if this is the same man, then he must have been here for…’ he left the thought unsaid as the immensity of the time sank in.
‘Are you of the Mammoth-clan?’ asked Afon. ‘Are you Coeden, brother of Tan?’
The old man stared back, his brow furrowed as if struggling to remember.
‘Tan,’ he said slowly, ‘yes, there was a boy called Tan.’
‘You remember,’ said Afon. ‘How long have you been here, Coeden?’
‘Where?’
‘Here, in this place, how long have you been here?’
‘Forever,’ he replied and started to cry.
Over the next few hours, Golau and Afon comforted Coeden and gradually, as he became accustomed to their presence, he talked more and more, recalling wha
t little he could about his time in Bin-naarve.
‘Do you remember how you were captured?’ asked Golau.
‘I was a young man,’ he said eventually. ‘We were trailing a herd of Mammoth on the ice and got lost in a storm. We walked for many hours, but could not see the sun or judge the wind to find our way home. Skin was torn from faces by the ice storm and we had to take refuge in a crack in the ice.’
‘For many days we cowered like frightened dogs. When the storm blew over, many were dead and we too were dying, but we saw smoke in the distance. We followed and found the remains of a fire with a trail leading up the side of a great mountain. We had no choice; we needed food and warmth so we followed the trail up to the top, high above the clouds until finally, we looked down into this beautiful land.
‘At first, we thought we had died and we were in the lands of the Sun-god. There were berries, and prey. Cool clear water ran through green forests alive with birds. We hunted and slept until we were once again strong and set out to explore this holy place.’
‘For many weeks we wandered, killing our meat as we needed it. We saw many strange things and hunted throughout the valley up to the great lake, and though we sometimes saw smoke from across the water, there seemed no way around. Our side of the water was uninhabited and there was much room so we intended to bring our clan here to live forever in this place of plenty. When we were strong enough and our food bags were full, we set out to return to our clan.’
Coeden indicated for the water skin, he hadn’t talked so much in his own language for many years. ‘On the way back,’ he continued, ‘we were climbing up the path to the edge of the mountain when we met a large hunting party returning from the ice. They were the Baal, and they fell on us with club and spear. Only five survived and we were brought back to this place.’
‘Five survivors;’ interrupted Afon, ‘do they still live?’
Coeden stared at him coldly before continuing his story.
‘Each night, we waited in this pit,’ he said, ‘for weeks we waited rotting in our own filth and fed on entrails like camp dogs. Then one day they came, and one by one, we were taken to the killing place. Each time one was chosen, the rest of us were forced to witness the manner of their death. I watched as they tied my friend between two trees, a boy of only twelve summers, and carefully cut a small hole in his belly, numbing the pain with herbs.