Brinan of the Wolf Clan

by Laura Jack

  Callom ignored Matina’s warning scream. He couldn’t afford to look back and just kept running. A blur of tawny fur flashed close by him, the lion was taller at the shoulder than he was and he realised too late why Matina had screamed. The next moment the beast was past him and running towards Serena and Ruban. He saw that the lion was as terrified by the fire as they were, its ears were flattened back to its head; and its long whip of a tail with its black tufted end was clamped between its legs. It wasn’t hunting them; it was fleeing from the flames. It veered off to the right and ran down towards the river giving the others in front a wide berth. Callom felt a momentary relief flooding through his veins. That was one less danger to worry about. When they suddenly dropped out of sight, Callom realised that Varad and then Serena and Ruban had reached the river, and then he too was sliding down the wet, slippery banks and splashing into the waters edge.

  They had reached the river at a wide valley and as it was so shallow in the summer drought, they all crossed over easily, reaching the sanctuary and shade of trees on the south side. One by one, they collapsed under the wide trailing branches of a willow.

  As relief flooded over them, it was Serena, without knowing why, started to laugh. Callom joined in. Varad just let out a whoop of triumph. They had survived!

  “Let’s camp here for the rest of the day.” Callom suggested quietly when their laughter had subsided. He wanted to wait for Brinan and prayed that they would not have to wait in vain. Serena nodded; she too was suddenly thinking of Brinan and wondering what had become of him.

  Brinan had been sleeping for a while, although it only seemed moments. The landscape around him was deathly quiet in the wake of the fire and gradually the smoke cleared. The sky above, as if in recompense, was bright blue and the sun was still shining as fiercely as it had the previous day when all their troubles had begun. Brinan lay still, with his eyes closed. He felt the heat of the sun, he tried to swallow down the taste of smoke, but his dry mouth reminded him of his thirst. A growling in his stomach reminded him of his hunger. He decided that he was definitely still alive. He really should open his eyes he told himself. It was no good just lying here. His stomach growled again, insisting. Something was trying to lick his face with a dry, rough tongue. This wasn’t a dream his subconscious warned him. The dry tongue licked him again. Get up now! Brinan yelped and his eyes flew open. He looked directly into a pair of shining amber eyes. “Luma!” He sat up and hugged his faithful wolf, then cried with relief.

  With the sun so high and the landscape void of recognisable landmarks, Brinan pondered where to go. He could be anywhere, which meant that so could the others. Luma gazed up at him and yipped to get his attention. He smiled, of course - all he had to do was follow Luma’s trail; or better still ask her to find the others. Once again he found himself grateful for the hide and seek game he had taught her.

  “Luma, come - find Callom; find Serena!” She loped ahead and Brinan followed. He walked for almost the whole day. His feet were blistered and sore and he wished he had a flint knife to cut the hide off an animal. Instead, he took off his boots and tried to wrap what had been round his lower legs, around his feet. It wasn’t ideal but more comfortable than being barefoot. He turned his tunic around so that his grazed back would be protected from the glare of the sun. Having Luma with him cheered him up considerably and a spark of hope ignited inside him. His focus was now on finding others, he prayed they had escaped the fire.

  He walked for a long time, passing the charred carcasses of herd animals - horses and aurochs mostly - that had not escaped the fire. Already they were being scavenged on by vultures, eagles, and kites. There were no four legged scavengers as they too had either succumbed to the fire, or fled. Many animals had not been burnt; but instead had died from smoke inhalation that preceded the flames. Brinan felt sadness for such gratuitous waste of life; but nature was resilient and the ashes of the fire would - he knew - fertilize the land and in a couple of seasons it would recover and be as rich and diverse as it had been.

  It was the discovery of a snow leopard that made him think. That is a valuable pelt for trade, if only I had my backpack, or at least a knife – what a waste. As if the Earth Goddess, Magda, had been listening and wanted to make recompense; he arrived at the sheltered bank where the others had camped. Here he found Luma’s travois, his own backpack, the trade goods travois and the ground tents. A grin split across his face. First, he knew now that the others had escaped and would be at the river and second; he had a means to collect some decent hides and transport them to camp. He opened up his backpack, found a spare pair of boots and tunic. He helped himself to some smoked fish and travel cakes, drank from the spring and splashed his face. He went back for the snow leopard hide; it alone was too valuable to risk losing to scavengers. Then he decided he would find the others and return for whatever else they could scavenge. They would, he realised with satisfaction, profit from this set back and come out better off after all.

  Serena, Ruban, and Matina were resting under the shade of the willow. Tomas lay on his stomach on a fur; he was beginning to crawl and gurgled with delight. Serena watched Varad and Callom setting fishing lines in the river. A flash of white on the charred landscape across the river caught her eye. She stood up abruptly and looked harder. Yes, that was Luma and she was not alone.

  Serena screamed at the top of her lungs. “Brinan!”

  Varad and Callom looked up at her then across the river; they too saw Luma and Brinan. They abandoned their fishing line, waded across, and ran up to meet them. Serena found herself crying with relief. Ruban jumped up and waved with his good hand, “It’s Brinan, it’s Brinan!”

  Matina hugged Serena, “Awe please don’t cry - everything’s going to be alright now.”

  “I know Matty,” Serena reassured her. “I’m just crying because I’m happy.”

  Several days later, their camp by the river had the air of a busy, thriving community. They had recovered all that they had abandoned as well as scavenged for hides, horns and meat – some of it already cooked much to their amusement. The fur of predators was especially valued as they were rarely hunted. Brinan had found and skinned the carcasses of a cave lioness and two half grown cubs. Callom, Brinan and Varad were in the process of building a raft. Brinan was sure that if they stayed on this river it would flow south and west and take them right past the Cave of the Horse Clan. It needed to be a large and robust raft - they had a lot to carry as well as themselves. Ruban was kept busy making and re-sharpening hand axes. The girls collected lianas from the trees to secure the logs together.

  By the afternoon of the eighth day since the fire, the raft was complete and loaded up. Callom had thought of everything. He had tied extra lianas between the logs for them to hold onto if the waters got rough which was a possibility as they got nearer the caves. As boat master, he was in charge of this part of their journey with Varad and Brinan supplying the manpower. Serena had overseen the preparation of trade goods; even recording a tally of what they had for trade on some birch bark. She would be in charge of their trading when they reached the Horse Clan, she found herself enjoying this responsibility, especially the counting.

  Tomas, Matina, Luma and Ruban were put onto the raft and strapped into benches. Varad, Callom, Brinan and Serena pulled the raft into the water using the rolling logs technique that had worked so well for the boat on the lake. That time had been full of doubt and anticipation. This time they were brave and confident of their ability to face whatever came at them. They had been through hell and survived. This would be a breeze compared with what they had suffered.

  Once the raft was fully in the water, they climbed onto it. Taking their place at each corner, with four large oars they pushed through the water into the deeper central part of the river and let the current take them. Their journey took them south west through more hills until it finally broadened out and flowed west; a panorama of open steppes grazed by vast herds of herbivores on either side was basked in the
orange glow of a setting sun, offering a peaceful backdrop to their journey.

  Brinan felt a strange calm come over him, like his soul was suddenly at peace. A thought came into his head that made him smile. Mother and Arguus would be proud of me, I’m sure. He looked around at his Clan - and the others; Tamo, Felmas, Lodina – they would be proud of us all and Varad’s Clan too. Whatever happens when we get to the Horse Clan, Brinan promised himself. Whatever happens - we are staying together.

  Their trip down the river wasn’t entirely a smooth ride but the robust raft got them through the narrow ravine where the water, concentrated into such a small space, was strong and choppy. Coming out of the ravine, they floated towards the indigo blue of starry skies lit by the rising of the moon. When Brinan spotted the rock formation where the Horse Clan drove off horse herds every summer; his stomach began to twist and knot. He had to prepare himself to face the tribe with only a handful of the Wolf Clan left and wondered how they would be greeted. They rounded a bend in the river and spotted the yellow glow of campfires on the shore as well as the beacons lit around the sacred caves. Today had been the ceremonies day he realized with dismay, they were late. Still, better late than never he decided.

  “Pull over here!” Ordered Callom, pointing to a flat stony beach. Their arrival was drawing quite a crowd and by the time they had rowed over to the bank most of the tribe had come down to greet them. A gang of men, drunk on wine, splashed jovially into the water and helped pull the raft ashore. Brinan felt relieved but then something else; trepidation. He wanted to stay in control; stay in command.

  “Thank you,” he said to the men who had helped.

  “Who are you?” One asked.

  “That is an impressive raft!” another exclaimed. Brinan looked around for a familiar face but didn’t recognise anyone.

  “I’m looking for the leaders of the Horse Clan, we are the Wolf Clan, or rather what is left of the Wolf Clan.” He added sadly. His announcement sent a buzz of speculation through the gathering crowd. A small group pushed their way forward and Brinan smiled, recognizing the familiar faces of the leaders of the Horse Clan. He stepped forward and greeted them, “Holla, Dagme, Parisse. I am sorry to say that for now, we are all that remains of the Wolf Clan. I hope we are welcome.”

  Parisse didn’t answer, but instead hugged him fiercely; then she stepped forward to hug Serena as Dagme hugged Brinan.

  “Of course you are welcome son. Please, come to our hearth for a meal first then you can tell us what happened.” The children left the raft with their possessions - no-one would touch it. They walked up to the caves with Dagme and Parisse.

  “Hey, who brought that damned animal here!” Someone shouted. “Get it away from our children.”

  “She’s our wolf, and she is perfectly safe.” Brinan said turning to look for the source of the voice. He paled when he realised that the ‘animal’ they were referring to was Varad.

  “Yeah, get that animal away from here, and tell him to take his wolf with him!” Another person said then laughed at his own joke. Serena saw a look on Varad’s face that she hoped she would never see again in her life. It made her ashamed of her own tribe. She was not the only one - Brinan could barely contain his anger.

  The Wolf Clan closed rank around Varad, bodily protecting him from the glares and comments. Parisse and Dagme exchanged a look but said nothing. Brinan felt a cold fear knot in his stomach. That fear increased when he saw who was carrying the Claich, it was Yossef; the bad tempered old Shaman of the Wolverine Clan. In Tamo’s absence, he had been made head Shaman, and he relished the power.

  He offered the Claich to Brinan, “On behalf of the Horse Clan, I welcome you Brinan of the Wolf Clan.”

  Brinan took a sip and passed it back, being acknowledged as first of his Clan to be greeted brought up powerful mixed emotions that took him by surprise. Serena was offered the Claich next, then Callom, Matina and Ruban. The old Shaman looked at Varad then pointedly turned away from him and handed the Claich to his Acoytle, Kronan.

  A murmur of agreement rose up from a faction of the crowd that had gathered. Others however, objected and some people just looked uncomfortable, embarrassed by the gesture. Brinan felt a cold rage wash over him. He turned to Dagme and Parisse, their expressions were strangely neutral. Almost imperceptibly, Dagme raised an eyebrow as if to say; you’re their leader, you deal with it.

  Brinan was astounded. After all that they had been through - all that they had survived! He knew for certain that if it had not been for Varad’s help and loyalty they would never have made it to the Gathering. Brinan tried to control his rage.

  “I think you are forgetting someone, Yossef. Perhaps a formal introduction is needed?” Brinan said with gritted teeth. Dagme nodded and Parisse smiled encouragingly. Brinan took heart and continued.

  “People of the Tribe of Magdalene, I would like you all to greet and welcome the newest member of the Wolf Clan, Varad. Were it not for the kindness of his kin, Ruban would be a cripple and we . . .”

  “By whose authority have you adopted this man into your Clan?” Yossef demanded, interrupting Brinan. “A bunch of feral children finding a mixed breed animal . . .”

  Brinan was dumbstruck by his rudeness; he opened his mouth to speak but . . .

  “You arrogant, ignorant, vile old man!” Roared Serena. “Do you think you can use your age and status to treat people so badly?” Brinan was shocked, then delighted; for a brief moment, he thought that their mother had appeared as Serena continued her rant facing down the old Shaman.

  “You are an insult to your profession and you make me ashamed to be of the same tribe and an Acoytle. How dare you stand there in pompous judgement of us? You know nothing of what we have been through and why this boy - yes - boy - is now a member of our Clan.”

  “Varad may still be a boy, but he is more of a man and more worthy of our respect that you will ever be.” Brinan pointed out, then added; “If Varad is not welcome then we will leave.”

  “How dare you . . .” Yossef roared with indignation and raised his arm to strike these insolent children. With quiet strength, Varad grabbed it and pulled it down. The old man seethed with rage.

  “That is quite enough Yossef, please, show some manners.” Parisse added coolly, as if scolding a child. Several people sniggered.

  “It’s alright Parisse, I can see he is not the only one who disapproves; we’ll set up camp by the river and be gone by morning.” Brinan said, trying to be reasonable.

  “Brinan, please wait.” A voice called out; it was Rufus who spoke. He had taken the Claich from Kronan and walked towards them.

  “Varad of the Wolf Clan. As a future leader of the Horse Clan – and a friend to Brinan and the Wolf Clan - I welcome you to our Gathering and to the Tribe of Magdalene.” He handed Varad the Claich. Varad took it, unsure.

  “Please, drink.” Rufus encouraged adding a gesture. Varad took a drink and there were murmurs of approval and welcome among the crowd.

  Rufus handed the Claich back to Kronan who was smiling, despite the anger of his Shaman.

  “Welcome Brinan, and all of your Clan, it is good to see you at last. Please join us for a meal?” Rufus added. Brinan couldn’t speak; he hugged his friend fiercely and fought back tears. In that moment, he realized how much of a friend Rufus was to him and how hurt then stubborn he had been over their fight last summer. He felt as if he was waking up from a nightmare, so many thoughts, crowding his mind and stirring up emotions he never knew he had.

  “Thank you for this Rufus, I’m more grateful than you will ever know.” He whispered.

  20 Emosnar

  Brinan woke to find himself in the cave of the Horse Clan and the events of the previous evening flashed through his mind. Not surprisingly, he had slept late, it was late morning and he was not the only one still in his bed furs. Serena lay nearby, hugging Matina who in turn, hugged Tomas. It was, for all of them, the first time in many nights they had slept in absolute safety. Brinan sat
up and looked across the hearth. Varad sat with a drinking cup in his hand. His expression was unreadable and

  Brinan realized grimly there was more to be dealt with today. Three little girls about Matina’s age ran into the cave, one pointed at Varad and said, “See, there’s the troll.” They all ran out screaming as Callom came in, followed by Luma and Ruban.

  “I got my cast off!” Announced Ruban, holding up his mended arm and flexing it. The muscles were thin and the skin pale compared to his good arm but they could see he had full use of it again.

  “Yes, finally you’re up!” Callom said cheerfully. “I’ve been down at the river. There’s quite a crowd gathering waiting to see what we have for trade, I’ve even been made offers for the raft!”

  “You’d better wake Serena then.” Brinan said, crawling over to the fire to help himself to some tea.

  He mulled over the events of last night as he drank. It had been emotionally draining to tell in detail what had happened, the worst part he realised was the not knowing. Lodina, they still grieved for, but whenever he thought of the others he just felt numb. He couldn’t grieve for them because he didn’t know if they were dead or alive. It was almost too much to bear. What made it worse was the treatment of Varad when they had arrived.