by Kevin Ashman
She reached up with her hand, caressing his cheek and kissed him gently on the lips.
‘Magic?’ she asked pulling back slightly and staring into his tear filled eyes, her voice becoming hoarser with the unfamiliar effect of desire. ‘Since when have I believed in magic?’ Their lips met again and as they embraced, they sank slowly down to his furs, their bodies meeting in mutual desire beneath the protective leaves of the oak tree.
----
Chapter 38
It was an exciting time in the valley of the Long-tooth. First, the Mwrllwch men returned, much to the excitement of their women, and within weeks, the human survivors of the Baal nightmare were seen walking down into the valley, led by the slipping and sliding Little-bear.
The emotion was intense, some happy as they greeted those who they had feared dead, and others resigned to stoic acceptance as their worst fears were realized. For a week, wounds were tended and relationships renewed as families were reunited. The stories of the horrors of the Baal camp were recounted every evening, eyes wide with horror as the brutality was relived. Morlak and Seren’s mysterious disappearance was recounted by Raven, and though she knew the truth, she made it known that they had been taken by their Gods. The clan agreed that after their heroic deeds it was a fitting end and never questioned Raven’s account.
One morning, Ceffyl left the cave and lifted his face to sniff the air, holding his cape tight around him.
‘Winter comes early,’ he said quietly to Sky who had joined him.
‘We are well prepared,’ she replied.
‘Do we have enough to feed the Mwrllwch?’ he asked.
‘The beasts are tame now,’ she said, ‘though in the spring we will need a male auroch to impregnate the females. The Mochyn thrive and we can harvest them through the winter. We have three fish traps, one in the river and two in the shallows of the sea. The Mwrllwch have shown us new ways to take food from the great water and our women are busy making new gourds to store the milk that we take from the female beasts. The meat stores are full as are the fruit baskets.’
‘Good. I hear you have a new strange plan about growing grass,’ he said staring out at the horizon.
‘Where we feed the animals,’ she responded, ‘the grains from the fodder often fell to the ground and I noticed that where they fell new plants grew for a while.’
‘But they do not grow now?’
‘No, but I think that the ground is too cold. I have gathered the seeds and I will plant them when the spring comes. If they grow, then we can do with the plants what we have done with the animals.’ She indicated a small leather pouch tied to her belt.
‘If this works, Sky,’ he said, ‘our people will never again go hungry.’
----
That evening Ceffyl called a meeting for every adult in the valley to attend. Sky and Loma helped with the translation as needed. The strange group sat in a circle on the grass at the base of Long-tooth Valley, the cave now too small to accommodate all those who attended.
‘It would seem,’ said Ceffyl, ‘that our brave hunters of both tribes have made sure that the Baal will not be a threat for a long time to come. All our people are accounted for whether alive or dead, except for two; Kraiach and Golau.’ He turned to the new senior male of the Mwrllwch, Aeron.
‘As you have seen,’ he started, ‘there are many strange things happening in this place that perhaps has not been seen before. The valley is sheltered from the worst of the storms and we have enough food to last us through the coming winter.’ He paused. ‘Your numbers are few, Aeron,’ he continued, ‘and winter comes quickly. You are welcome to stay here and share what we have worked hard to achieve. Between us, there is enough knowledge to feed our children. They will be safe here, and when the snow clears, you can decide whether to leave or stay. The choice is yours.’
Loma translated to Aeron who thought for a moment before standing up to answer.
‘We are honoured by your offer great Ceffyl,’ he said, ‘but we are bound by the deeds of Gotha the wrongdoer and must seek to appease Huan.’ He looked up waiting as Loma translated.
‘We have paid homage to our dead and when the sun rises we will leave this valley to return to our ways.’
After hearing Loma's translation, Ceffyl approached Aeron and offered him his arm in friendship.
‘Thank you,’ he said simply. They grasped each other’s forearms for a few seconds before a disturbance made them look up.
----
‘Golau!’ screamed Fox-tooth and the clan ran forward to greet the lone figure striding into their midst, carrying a blood stained fur sack on his back. Golau made a fuss of all and gradually made his way forward to meet Ceffyl and Aeron who waited patiently for the hero’s welcome to subside.
‘Hello, old friend,’ said Ceffyl, holding out his arm, ‘we have heard all about your exploits.’
‘There is more yet to tell,’ he replied looking around. ‘Where is Sky?’
The girl walked forward slowly her head bowed. Golau lifted her face up gently by her chin. He caught the glance between Sky and Ceffyl before letting her go and turned to meet the clan.
‘Hear me, Fire-clan,’ he said, ‘I am Golau Lion-heart and I have returned to claim my place as chief of this clan.’
A murmur of approval rippled around the gathering as all eyes were on him, none seeing Sky’s tears or Ceffyl’s downcast eyes.
‘My first task is this,’ he shouted and turned to Aeron.
‘Great Mwrllwch chief Kraiach is dead. Murdered by one of our own tribe, but before he died he gave me this message. He said to tell his people the task is done. Tell them the debt is paid.’ Golau paused. ‘Tell them the circle has been closed.’
The Mwrllwch present gasped in astonishment, chattering in their strange language. Aeron held up his hand and they fell quiet.
‘If this is true,’ he said, ‘I have to know, how this was done?’
Golau recounted how he had gone to the cave of the Mwrllwch ancestors and after watching transfixed as the insects had stripped Kraiach’s bones clean in the cave of the Yslum, had carried his remains to the inner cave and placed his bones in the empty remaining seat on the dead council of the Mwrllwch.
‘One last question, human,’ said Aeron, ‘if you were indeed in the cave of the ancestors, you will know how many were sitting in the circle?’
‘With Kraiach, thirteen in total,’ came the reply.
‘Then it is true,’ said Aeron, ‘Kraiach has found the Mammoth and paid the final price. The debt is indeed paid. The circle has been closed. It is over.’
Golau nodded, seeing no need to expand that there had actually been fourteen corpses in the cave. No reason to explain that the extra fresh body that lay in the centre had not been stripped of its flesh, or why Golau’s knife was sticking out from deep between its eyes. No need to point out that a great chief’s brother would accompany Kraiach on his final journey as his slave. Considering everything, he thought Tan would have approved.
‘My second task,’ shouted Golau, returning his attention on his clan, ‘is to give this clan a new name. For two days, I have watched from the cliffs above and seen the great changes made in my absence. During the great days of Tan Long-tooth, the clan thrived. It was here in this valley he earned his name. It is appropriate that the clan is named after such a great chief.’
He picked up his bag and tipped it out. On the floor, lay a bundle of fur and Golau lifted it up by the head. The crowd gasped at the sight of the skin and head of the Sabre-toothed tiger that had threatened their valley over the last few months.
‘This beast will no longer stalk this community,’ he said, ‘but lead it.’ With that, he walked over and stood in front of Ceffyl.
‘Friend,’ he said, ‘you have led this clan better than I ever could. I will not undo everything you have done. I relinquish my claim to the position of chief.’ He offered the skin to Ceffyl.
‘I can’t take this, Golau,’ he said, ‘we made a solem
n pact.’
‘I have done many things that I am ashamed of these past few months;’ answered Golau quietly, ‘breaking my word is the least of them.’
‘But you are the natural chief,’ he said ‘you were born to it.’
‘A great chief is never born, Ceffyl, he is made. Now, take it and lead this great clan through the troubled times they face.’
Ceffyl took the magnificent cape and turned, holding it up to the cheering clan. Golau turned to Sky.
‘And as for you feisty young woman,’ he said, ‘your new ideas may have just saved this clan, but they are strange and need the support of the chief to ensure they are followed. Join with him and warm his furs at night. Between you, you can lead this clan together.’
‘But you forget we too had a pact, Golau,’ she said, ‘I see no snow.’
‘Ah, yes, I remember,’ he said. ‘We agreed that if I returned before the snow you would be mine. If not, I would release you from your promise.’
She nodded.
Golau took a deep breath, looking up at the clear evening sky.
‘Just know this, Sky,’ he said sadly looking back at her, ‘the snow falls heavily in here.’ He tapped his heart.
‘Are you sure, Golau?’ she asked touching his hand.
‘You are free, Sky,’ he said, ‘Ceffyl can give you what I can’t.’
‘Thank you!’ she said and kissed him on the cheek before walking to the side of Ceffyl. Golau spotted Raven standing to one side and he called her over.
‘How is Little-bear?’ he asked.
‘He sleeps through the night now,’ she said, ‘the nightmares are easing.’
‘Will you look after him for me?’ he asked.
‘Where are you going? she asked. ‘You have only just returned.’
‘I cannot stay, Raven,’ he said, ‘for more reasons than I could ever explain. I don’t belong here anymore.’
‘But your son needs you, Golau!’
‘No, what he needs is a safe place to live and the love of his clan to help him through. I cannot give him either. All I can offer is bitterness and anger, he doesn’t deserve either.’
‘Will you see him before you go?’
‘It will hurt us both too much. I will be gone before the sun rises.’
‘Know this, Golau. I will watch over him and bring him up to be the best man he can be, and I will make sure he knows what a great man his father was.’
‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘I can ask no more,’ and he turned back to the crowd.
‘One more thing,’ shouted Golau commanding silence once again, ‘many in this valley owe their lives to the Mwrllwch, including me. They are few, as are we, yet we both have much to offer.’ He turned to Aeron.
‘Kraiach was my friend and taught me that despite our differences, we can live together. He lived the life of a true Mwrllwch, ever seeking forgiveness from your God and he succeeded in opening the way for your people to go to the better place. Because of him, you have been forgiven and at last, you can stop wandering these lands. It is time to come out of the mist.’
The gathering went silent and watched Aeron in anticipation. After receiving the translation by Loma, he stared at Golau and slowly nodded, accepting the offer.
Once again, a great happiness overtook the throng and the women scurried to bring meat from the stone pits. For many hours, they feasted in celebration of their new start and though they did not know it, the combining and eventual merging of two completely different species. Halfway through the night, Golau stole away, keeping to the shadows as he headed toward the valley exit. A shadow emerged from the darkness and stood in his way.
‘You sneak away like a Hyena in the night,’ said Sky quietly.
‘It is better this way.’
She stared up at him.
‘I have three gifts for you before you go, Golau,’ she said.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
‘The first is the protection of the Earth-mother,’ she said, and gave him a small red carving. ‘It was given to me by Raven-hair. She took it from Alid’s pouch when the Baal killed him.
Golau looked at the small representation of the giant figure he had seen in the cave of the Slorth-baal.
‘Where did Alid get this?’ he asked.
‘No-one knows,’ she replied sadly, ‘but it is a gift from my family to you.’
Golau placed the statuette in his own pouch.
‘The second gift is something a bit more practical,’ she said and walked to a nearby rock, returning with a wrapped package. Golau recognized it immediately.
‘I cannot take this,’ he said, ‘it belongs to Ceffyl now.’
‘It is given with Ceffyl’s blessing,’ she said. ‘We have no need of it here anymore.’
Again, Ceffyl took the gift from Sky.
‘And the third?’ he asked.
‘The third, Golau, is a memory, to warm you when the nights are cold.’ She rose up on tiptoe and kissed him long and gentle on his lips. ‘For what might have been,’ she whispered.
She lingered for several minutes, held tightly in his arms. Finally, she eased away.
‘I should go,’ he said.
She nodded silently, the tears running down her face.
He turned to leave, but had gone only two paces before stopping and looked back over his shoulder.
‘I see you, Sky,’ he said gently, giving her the ultimate recognition usually reserved for clan members of high status.
‘Oh, Golau,’ she said, but before she could finish, he had gone, striding into the darkness, the Hell-farch cradled in his arms.
----
Sky returned to the now dying celebrations and approached Ceffyl, sitting at the edge of the huge fire that had been built in the valley. She lifted his cape and wrapped it around herself as she snuggled in close to him.
‘Is it done?’ he asked.
‘He has gone,’ she replied quietly looking into the flames.
‘We should sleep soon,’ said Ceffyl, ‘you have a busy day tomorrow.’
‘Yes, the fish traps need fixing, the animals…’
He interrupted her.
‘Not those things,’ he said, ‘leave them to Ffion, she works as hard as you.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ she asked, looking close into his eyes.
‘Don’t you have a wedding ceremony to plan?’ he asked with a smile. Sky stared at him, her own smile playing about her mouth.
‘Oh there’s plenty of time for that,’ she said, ‘I think a spring ceremony would be nice.’
‘Spring,’ he said shocked, ‘why wait that long?’
‘Perhaps, I’m not sure I want you as a mate,’ she said teasingly.
‘Don’t you?’
‘Perhaps’ she smiled.
‘The winter could be very long, Sky,’ he said, ‘it is a long time for a man to wait.’
Sky thought for a while before standing up and pulling Ceffyl to his feet.
‘I only said the ceremony will wait, Ceffyl,’ she said gazing into his eyes, ‘I can’t.’
She reached up and kissed him deeply before leading him away from the remnants of the celebrations and up to the now empty Shaman hut.
----
Epilogue
A lone hunter sat crouched over a fire in a corner of a small cave sheltered from the blizzard outside. He had been in the cave for two days, waiting for the storm to blow over. His spear leant against the wall and as he fell asleep for the third time that day, he dislodged the giant spear, its strange blade landing in the heart of the flames.
Hours later, he awoke and realizing that his spear lay in the embers, scrabbled frantically to retrieve the sacred weapon from the ashes. His heart sank as he saw the deformed shape of the famous blade, twisted out of all recognition as it had melted in the intense heat of the charcoal fire.
He picked it up and realizing it was no good for the use intended, cast it away in anger. As he sat back, his eyes were slowly drawn to a f
ootprint he had left in the cave soil the night before. The shape of his heel seemed to have been filled with a blackened deposit leading from the fire. He picked it up and after brushing away the ash, uncovered a burnt orange replica of his heel, as hard as a rock. He gasped as a sharp edge cut his thumb and he stared at the copper object in his hands, his mind working overtime. Quickly retrieving the larger burnt blade he had discarded, he made the connection between the both as it became obvious that the fire had caused the hard large blade to change to a liquid, which had flowed from the fire and moulded itself to the shape of his foot.
He took his knife and pressed it into the soft earth, forming a depression the exact likeness of the smaller weapon. His excitement grew at the possibility of dozens of smaller spear points being formed from the one great blade that had been carried by his line for thousands of years. If he could find the source of the rock that formed the great blade, then his people could melt it into whatever shape they wanted. He packed his things, keen to return to the clan with his discovery. The storm had blown over and as he descended to the valley, the thought occurred that his great grandfather once led a great clan in a valley such as this and though it matched the descriptions passed down at the firesides, there was no open expanse of water at the end of the valley. Just a solid sheet of ice as far as the eye could see.
He felt the misshapen spearhead in his pouch and though it was the end of the Hell-farch, his great grandfather would have been proud at its rebirth. He was truly a great man, his grandfather. Little-bear would have understood.
The End
Read more of Kevin’s work at:
http://kevin-ashman.blogspot.com/
Other books by K. M. Ashman
Roman
The Dead Virgins
The Treasures of Suleiman
The Mummies of the Reich
The Last Citadel
Vampire
Contact Kevin Direct at:
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