Brinan of the Wolf Clan

by Laura Jack

  Parisse had insisted that they all sleep in the Cave of the Horse Clan and had banned anyone else from entering to give them peace. Dagme told Brinan they would hold a meeting of Clan leaders and he would need to tell them the full story in the morning. Brinan was not looking forward to it but knew that he had to push his point strongly that Varad had earned the right to be a valued member of the Clan. Brinan found a couple of seed loaves and shared them with Serena and Matina, who were now awake.

  “What are we going to do?” Asked Serena.

  “We will all attend the meeting, not just me.” Brinan decided. “That way we present a united front and just let anyone tell us that Varad is not welcome . . .”

  Just then Dagme and Parisse returned,

  “Good, you’re all here. Has everyone eaten?” Parisse asked kindly. Brinan nodded and stood up.

  “The meeting is to be held in the Shaman’s Cave, that way we’ll get privacy to talk without interruptions. Follow me.” Instructed Dagme.

  Both Brinan and Serena felt their stomachs turn over with nerves. As they walked out of the Cave and up the hillside to the Shaman’s Cave, Serena felt her legs shaking, she could barely walk. Oh Magda, I’m going to be sick. She thought panicking; maybe they were going to punish her for the way she had spoken to Yossef – had she made things worse for them? She felt numb inside as she resigned herself to her fate . . .

  Brinan recognized her fears and squeezed her hands, he felt the same but his stubborn streak and growing self-belief was sending adrenalin coarsing through his body in preparation for what may become a verbal battle.

  They were all distracted by the beautiful art in the Cave. The walls were white quartz glittering with seams of iron pyrites and what would one day be copper but whose properties had yet to be discovered. The cave paintings were massive, representing the physical size of the beasts that were drawn which made them more impressive. The children were invited to sit, which they did, but their eyes looked up fixated by the images towering over them. Most of the adults smiled indulgently and let them stare; they had all been in awe of the images on their first visits too.

  “Shall we begin?” Dagme said finally, snapping back everyone’s attention. Brinan sat tall, took a deep breathe and nodded. Serena looked like she was going to be sick.

  “Before we do,” interrupted Parisse. “I think we need to clear up the matter of last night’s disagreement – Yossef?”

  Yossef got slowly to his feet, he did not look happy! Instead, Brinan thought with amusement, he looked like a boy who had been thoroughly whipped; however, he was smart enough to hide his amusement.

  “I would like to apologise for my outburst last night. Serena my dear, you were quite right to chastise me. Brinan, I am sorry for any insult that I may have caused you - all of you.” He finished by looking at Varad. Serena felt her sickness subside and a look of relief softened her features.

  “Thank you Yossef.” Brinan replied, he would offer no more, he was yet to be convinced that they would accept Varad.

  “I have briefed you all on what Brinan has already told us yesterday evening.” Parisse began, “I do not want to put him through the ordeal of repeating his account of the floods and the loss of his people. Instead, I would like us to discuss what should be done about the children of the Wolf Clan.” The others nodded; several looked at the children with compassion, a few with thoughtful expressions.

  “I would like to offer a place in our Cave for Brinan and all of his Clan; the baby Tomas is still young but has not been fed milk for several moons. Dana, one of our nursing mothers has offered to adopt him . . .” Serena stifled a cry.

  “He’s not up for adoption.” Interrupted Brinan, taking a grip on his sister’s hand. “None of us are.”

  There was a long silence, some of the leaders and shamans exchanged meaningful looks but said nothing. Instead, they turned to Parisse, waiting for her to continue.

  “I’m sorry Brinan, it must be upsetting enough to have gone through all that you have, please don’t misunderstand our intent. You have all done an amazing job of looking after Tomas, we can see that; but he is just a baby and you are all too young to be taking on that burden. Serena, you should be out playing with the other children and enjoying what is little is left of your childhood. Not keeping hearth and taking care of little ones.”

  There was some merit to what Parisse had said, Brinan realised, perhaps the others did not feel the same way he did about keeping them together. Maybe he should give them a choice.

  “You’re right Parisse, Serena, what do you think?”

  “I… I don’t know,” Serena replied, tears came to her eyes, it was all so overwhelming. “Giving up Tomas - and Matina - is like giving up hope of our Clan being reunited. It’s the not knowing you see?”

  “There there, my dear;” A kindly Shaman said reaching forward and taking Serena’s hand, she patted it gently. Serena didn’t recognise the old woman but smiled gratefully at her.

  “Thank you,” Serena said with a watery smile. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know your name?”

  “It’s Yolante, I am the Shaman of the Chamois Clan; we live several moon cycles east of here in the mountains. I am also the sister of this grumpy old man!” She thumbed towards Yossef, who grunted but smiled. “I understand you are an Acolyte, my dear, is that right?”

  “Yes,” replied Serena feeling better. “Tamo, our Shaman, was tutoring me over the winter before the flood happened.”

  “Then you will need to continue with your training, will you not? It takes several years to fully train.” Continued the woman gently. Serena nodded. “We’ll talk more later my dear. Things are not as bad as they seem.”

  “Thank you Yolante.” Parisse said gratefully. “Now, Brinan. We are not suggesting that the Wolf Clan is no longer. Far from it! You five, sorry - six - have proved by your journey here that you are a credit to your Wolf Talismans. I think Arguus and Deema would be immensely proud of what you have achieved. I have thought of how I would feel as a parent and headwoman had it been the Horse Clan who had suffered such a tragedy, I would not want our children to lose the name and status of our cave. Therefore, I promise you now that we all fully acknowledge you as the new leader of the Wolf Clan - and you Serena as co-leader.”

  “Thank you.” Brinan replied, he was going to add more but Parisse raised her hand.

  “But . . .” she began.

  Here it comes, thought Brinan – why does there always have to be a ‘but’.

  “We would like to offer you more, we would like to offer you the sanctuary of the cave of the Horse Clan until you are old enough to find another home.” Parisse explained.

  “We would like to offer our cave as sanctuary also,” Another headwoman spoke up. Serena recognised her facial tattoo as being that of the Aurochs Clan. Several others then spoke up, offering them a home. Dagme and Parisse exchanged a look, they let the offers come in, and then Dagme silenced everyone.

  “Well Brinan, it would seem you have more than one choice in where you will stay.” Dagme concluded. “We won’t ask you to make a decision now. I know that you will need to discuss this with your Clan in private. While you do, please remember that although you have lost some of your family, we are your family too! Just know that you will all be a valuable asset to any Clan, but I’m going to be selfish here and state that as the closest living relatives of your mother and uncle, I hope you will agree to stay with us.”

  Brinan stood up, and was surprised to find it a struggle, his knees felt wobbly with emotion. He only just stopped his lip from wobbling too.

  “Thank you all. Honestly, it means a lot to us and we will carefully consider all offers. There is one thing that I need from you though . . . It’s that you formally adopt Varad into the Tribe. He gave up his people - and therefore his own birthright and status - to help us on our journey and we have learned many important knew things from him.” Brinan explained. He was going to mention the weapon but something held him back. K
nowledge is Power! He recalled. The bows and arrows they had were extremely powerful weapons.

  “I would also ask that one of the Shamans meditate for his birthstone so he will know his place within the tribe. That’s all I want.” He finished humbly.

  There was a mixed response to this and both Serena and Brinan were quick to take mental notes on who seemed agreeable and who seemed offended. Those who seemed offended, he decided, had just forfeited any chance of getting them.

  “That is lot to ask Brinan, but you have earned the right.” Parisse said, “I, for one, would be happy to adopt Varad into the tribe.”

  Dagme nodded in agreement.

  “I will mediate for his birthstone,” Yolante offered, “Varad’s kin are closely related to some of the tribes to the lands north of Chamois Clan territory. I will need an item of Varad’s. Tell me boy, do you have a talisman from your tribe’s Shaman?”

  “Yes he has,” squealed Serena. Rushing the words out before the offer was objected to.

  “If no one objects, we will conduct a small ceremony for Brinan’s Clan, I think we should include prayers for his people who have been lost in the flood too . . .”

  Brinan sat down and felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. They would get help; they would not lose their Wolf Clan birthright and, most important, Varad was to be accepted.

  Shyly, Serena took Varad’s hand and approached Yolante. “When will you search for his birthstone?”

  “We will do it this evening. It should be an interesting search! Yossef, would you care to join us brother?”

  “Of course woman, you can’t be expected to search alone!” Grunted Yossef, as if he was granting her a favour. Serena felt annoyed that the pompous Shaman would be a part of it. Yolante smiled at Serena as if to say, ‘Just humour him.’

  Serena wondered if his resentment was due to the fact his sister was a better Shaman.

  Brinan, Varad and Serena left the cave of the Horse Clan in far better spirits than when they had arrive. They made their way to the raft where they found Callom in the process of bartering the lioness’s hide. Two women were outbidding each other for it and Callom was grinning at the insults they traded each other.

  “Let me through – let me through!” Someone shouted. It was the unmistakeable voice of Emosnar. Brinan saw his distinctive hat before they saw the man. All talk stopped as Emosnar stood before Brinan’s Clan and removed his hat ceremoniously and cleared his throat. In his deepest, commanding voice Emosnar began;

  “Are you Wolf Clan?”

  Brinan looked over at Emosnar with curiosity. He nodded slowly.

  The story teller walked right up to him and placed his hands on his shoulders.

  “Oh thank Magda! I have good new! Some of your Clan were rescued from a flood at Amber Mine.”

  Brinan felt the ground sway beneath him, so deep was the shock. Emosnar caught and steadied him. A buzz of speculation went up from the crowd around their raft. Brinan wished that Emosnar wasn’t always so public with his news. He could barely hear what else he had to say.

  “One of them - Tamos . . . Tamo? He was badly injured after falling down a mine shaft and can no longer walk - that is why they have not travelled here. I have been invited to winter with the Mammoth Clan and would be happy to escort you there to be reunited with your kin.” Emosnar finished with a smile.

  “You say some of them? Who else survived?” Brinan asked, he felt like he was dreaming. Hope and happiness flooded through him. Suddenly he was grateful that he had done all that he could to get his Clan to the Gathering.

  “Who else - please tell us?” Serena added; tears flowed down her cheeks as she thought of her mother.

  The crowd were silent, expectant. Brinan looked over at Callom and Serena. Varad stood quietly by.

  “Ah.” Emosnar’s voice suddenly lost its booming tone. He scratched his ear and pulled a face.

  “That I don’t know. The message has been passed on through several hands. I was not given other names but if you are going to take me up on my offer and travel with me to the territory of the Mammoth Hunters you had better hang on to those furs because you are going to need them!”

  Children of the Wolf Clan Series

  Book 2 Preview

  The Land of the Mammoth

  10,500BC at the base of the Altai Mountains in Eurasia on the border of what will one day be Kazakhstan and Mongolia. Several round tented constructions are scattered along the flat plain at the base of the Altai mountain range. A broad, meandering river flanks the tents on their western side. Among the tents, sturdy steppe horses graze, tethered to posts deep in the ground. A man approaches one of the tents; he is dwarfed by the two burly men who guard the doorway. He pauses for a moment to acknowledge the guards; the guards do not acknowledge him but stare straight ahead. Annoyed and unnerved, he enters the tent.

  Inside, it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior, then they rest upon a woman lying in a bed of furs. She is close to death; the enigmatic tattoos that cover her arms, shoulders and breast bone are distorted by wrinkles of skin where once there was muscle. Her laboured breath is shallow, rasping. Her straight, black hair scraped back from her face, accentuates her closed, sunken eyes, but she didn’t sleep. Despite the pain relieving plant burning in the fire she was in great pain. Sitting cross legged beside her is a young girl of seven, her daughter. She has long black hair, a high forehead, and a wide flat face like her mother’s. Only her eyes are different, not slanted but round and large, like the man who stands beside her and uniquely green. The girl’s expression is unreadable, void of emotion; she looks up at the man for a brief moment then back at her mother.

  “Taya, go outside and get some fresh air, this medicine smoke is not good for you.”

  The girl gets up reluctantly.

  “Yes father,” she says with a slight bow of the head in deference before leaving.

  “Go find the Shaman while you are out there.”

  Her exit throws a shaft of light on the woman in the furs. Even though she is still alive, the man’s face is full of grief. He sits where his daughter had been and takes the woman’s hand. Her eyes flutter open. She is not old but the cancer that eats her body gives the impression of great age and suffering.

  “Baran?” She whispers.

  He squeezes her hand gently. Her other hand lifts weakly and beckons him closer.

  “Promise me again that you will take Taya back to your people . . . your Wolf Clan. They are good people . . . she will need them. Her future here will be nothing but misery. She is promised to Hoghis but he will not be a kind husband to her, he only wants her status.”

  “I know – everything is planned, I promise. No more talking - save your breath.”

  But she ignored him. “Do not wait until after my burial . . . leave at the feasting. They will not pursue while they are in mourning.” She stopped abruptly when sunlight burst across both of them as Taya returned with the Shaman. Like vultures at a kill site, the guards hovered expectantly behind them.

  “I’ve had my fresh air.” Taya stated with an edge of stubbornness. Baran sighed.

  “What a contradiction you are child.” He didn’t mean to say it aloud so added kindly. “Come, sit here with us.”

  The woman opened her eyes again and beckoned her daughter closer. Reluctantly, Taya leaned close, distressed by the rasping breath of her once strong and fearless mother, her ear felt the weak breathe as her mothers lips came close.

  “Be good for your father. What he does, he does for the best, and to honour my wishes.” She whispered before kissing her daughter.

  Her words confused Taya, and a small seed of anxiety planted itself in her heart.

  “Please don’t go mother,” she suddenly begged but the woman closed her eyes and let out a long final sigh.

  “She’s gone, Taya.” Baran choked on his words and broke down. Hugging his daughter fiercely, he sobbed unashamedly.

  The two guards entered the
tent and looked down on him with cold distain. The old shaman turned to them.

  ‘Inform Hoghis; ‘Altai’ Mira, our great warrior queen is dead.”

  * * *

  More and more people drifted towards the riverside where Brinan stood with Emosnar. Beside them, Serena found herself shaking uncontrollably; a torrent of emotions flooded her mind. Callom held his breath, waiting for Brinan to answer Emosnar.

  “Thank you for your offer but I will need some time to think it through.” Brinan said finally.

  “Brinan! You’re being rude. We are going!” Serena interrupted.

  “Well of course. It’s just . . . I want to be clear on a few things.” Brinan replied.

  “Are these pelts for trade or not?” A woman demanded, picking up the cave lion pelt. Serena snatched it from her.

  “You heard him; we will need these – so no!”

  “Now who’s being rude?” Brinan muttered. He took a deep breath and turned to Emosnar. “We will need a few days to trade and prepare for our journey. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful; it’s a lot to take in.”

  “That’s understandable son. I’ll be leaving at dawn on the day after tomorrow. Now, if you will excuse me, I have people to see.” Emosnar replied and turned to leave.

  “Why the rush?” Brinan asked.

  Emosnar stopped and turned slowly, with an exasperated sigh he pulled out a roll of birch bark from his tunic and tossed it to Brinan.

  “Look at the map, son. Unless you can fly, it is going to take over four moons to reach the winter dwellings of the Mammoth Clan. We need to be there by Wolf Moon, it is Horse Moon now. Can you count the days of a moon cycle? Can you multiply it by four? Good, then you understand my urgency. Oh, and one more thing,” he added as he walked away. “Travel light and if you want my advice, forget flint and furs other than what you need for yourself. Wood and salt is what the Mammoth Clan lacks and therefore prizes in trade but we can gather that on the way.”