by Dan Davis
“No!” she said and looked down at the beach where the hunters and the boys worked while the young Satara watched over them. She lowered her voice. “I think Satara killed father and when Zani found out she ran before he killed her, too.”
“Satara? Him?” He was more confused than ever as he pointed. “Why would he do that? Anyway, he couldn’t overpower father, he’s a weakling. Look at him.”
She slapped his pointing hand down. “He has grown, Z’ta. He is a man now and he wants to become the new spirit walker and he wants to marry me, he said so himself, he wants to be initiated and that is why he killed father.” Her brother put his arm around her shoulders and made soothing sounds and she shoved him off. “I am not a child and I am not a fool, Z’ta. Our mother and father have been in their huts the whole time you were away but less than a moon before you came back they vanished.”
“What do you mean their huts?”
“Father still lives in the old place but after you went mother built a hut half a day away upriver by herself.”
He stared at her. “And where is your hut?”
She shrugged. “I sleep where I like. When it’s dry and warm I sleep in the woods.”
Shaking his head as if pitying her, he reached out to comfort her again before stopping himself. “Are you sure they have not gone to consult the spirits?”
Sif gave him a look and he raised a hand in apology. “Sama would never have done that without letting me know and besides, Zani left me a sign.”
“I don’t understand.”
Reaching into her packs she pulled out the little pouch of seeds. “She left these in a special place and sent me a sign to find them. But I don’t know what they are. Hold out your hand.”
The little flat seeds with the rounded ends and pointed tops tumbled into his palm and he frowned. “But these are… apple seeds.”
“Apple?” she thought hard as the word echoed in her mind and her heart raced. “I remember now. There used to be a tree by the river near to where she built the house.” She frowned. “But the fruits are sour and the trees do not grow well. It died when we were still young but you remember it so well that you know these seeds.”
“No, I remember no tree by the river but they grow in the south. The Heryos gather the fruits and cook them into a paste and eat them with meat. Once I was given a taste of the paste mixed with honey. I remember spitting out these seeds and picking them from my teeth.”
Excited, she touched his hand. “What does it mean?”
He looked at them and slowly shook his head. “I don’t know. Something to do with this hut of hers? Have you looked there for her?”
She looked at him with scorn. “Yes, Z’ta. Give me my seeds back.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what it means.”
Sif could have screamed with frustration. “At least now you are back you can help me kill Satara.”
Z’ta looked at her in surprise and then he looked down at the man on the beach. “We will kill him, Sif,” he said and he stood. “We will speak to him first, and if he did kill our father then I will cut his throat and watch him bleed until the last breath.”
“He did,” she said, standing beside her brother. “I’m sure of it.”
Finally, she thought, as they started off. Finally, Sama would be avenged for his crimes and Sif was almost overwhelmed with love for her brother. For the first time in as long as she could remember she suddenly did not feel lonely any more. Her brother was here and now she was no longer alone outside her tribe. She was alone with her brother, like when they were children.
From atop the dunes they walked down to the canoes and approached Satara who looked up at them with worry on his long face and upon seeing them he at once backed away from their hard expressions. Without a word he strode off along the sands away from the village.
“We want to speak with you, Satara,” Z’ta said, as he began his retreat.
“Yes,” Satara replied, looking over his shoulder as he walked. “Of course, we must speak. I am glad to see you home again, Z’ta, we were just boys when you left.”
“He didn’t leave,” Sif snapped. “He was taken.”
“I meant nothing by it,” Satara said, glancing behind them at the men working on the new canoe who were now looking at them, curious about what was unfolding. “We should speak, yes. What is it you wish to speak of?”
Glancing over his shoulder at the hunters, Z’ta waved Satara further along the beach. “Let us speak where we cannot be heard.”
Fear flashed in his eyes and Satara attempted a smile. “Here is very well, Z’ta, there is no need to be away from the eyes of our people, is there?”
Z’ta jabbed a finger in the air. “That way. Now.”
They followed him along the sand at the top of the beach until Z’ta told him to stop. When Satara turned his eyes darted between them. “I meant no harm, Sif, I wished only what was best for us and for the tribe. If you do not wish for a union then I will accept your wisdom in it as in all things.” He licked his lips. “But of course if you ever wish to submit to me then I will gladly—”
“Never mind that,” Z’ta said, silencing him. “Where is my father?”
Satara rubbed his wet lips and frowned as he looked around as if expecting to see Sama suddenly appear. “As I told your sister, I don’t know. By the Mother, I swear it, Z’ta. Sif, you must understand that I went away and when I returned he was gone. And he never came back after that.”
Z’ta closed on him. “What else?”
“There is nothing else,” Satara almost wailed, shuffling back in the sand.
“You killed him,” Sif said, coming closer to stand beside her brother.
Satara’s eyes bulged. “What? No. I would never, never harm Sama. No, why would I do that?”
“You want to take his place,” she said, advancing on him as he edged back. “But he was in the way so you removed him.”
“No, never. I would never. I honour the spirits. I honour Sama and I always have, ever since I was a boy. These past nights I have journeyed to the spirits to search after him.”
Z’ta was intrigued. “Did you find him?”
“Of course he didn’t,” Sif snapped. “He lies.”
“I do not lie,” he said, with a hard certainty that silenced them both for a moment.
“Then where were you the night he vanished?” Sif demanded eventually. “Where could you have gone? By the Mother, Satara, you sleep in Sama’s house. Where were you?”
He put his hands over his face and turned away. “It’s my fault,” he said. “I could not control myself.”
“See,” Sif said, drawing her slate knife. “I told you. Let us take him into the woods where the others cannot see. We will bleed him as you said and watch as his worm spirit escapes his lying flesh.”
Z’ta held up a hand to silence her. “Satara, tell me what you did.” When he did not respond, Z’ta yanked him about by the shoulder. “Satara, you must speak.”
“I was weak,” he said, looking down at the sand and scuffing the toe of his boot against it. “I went into the village to lie with At’ara.”
They stared at him. “At’ara,” Sif said, astonished. “You are laying down with At’ara and you expect me to join with you and to become a spirit walker. The spirits shun At’ara, you fool.”
“It was just that one time,” Satara protested, spreading his hands out to either side. “I am a man, like any other.”
Sif sighed in frustration. “What did you trade with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“At’ara does not submit to any man but Alef unless he gives her a gift, everyone knows that. Did you take something from Sama to give to her? Something precious?”
“I am no thief,” he said. “I gave her nothing.” He shrugged. “Alef told me that At’ara wanted me so I went.”
Sif and Z’ta stared at him. “What did Alef say?” Sif asked. “What were his words?”
“He said he had
seen that I wanted her, which was true, and he told me she would lie with me, that she wanted to lie with me because of my power with the spirits and because one day I would be an important man for our tribe and so I went. That is all there is.”
“Did he tell you to go that night?” Sif asked. “That night only?”
Uncomfortable with the ongoing questioning, Satara shrugged. “He said he was going hunting that night so we could lay together in his hut.”
Sif stared back at the village. “Alef offered At’ara to you?” she said to herself. “Why?”
Z’ta leaned toward her. “What was happening when we found you so far from the village? Alef was with you and those other young hunters. I meant to ask that too. Where were you all going?”
“And I meant to tell you but so much has happened I put it out of my mind. I went to search for Zani because Alef told me she had been taken by a Heryos warband come raiding in the woods. I went to find her and bring her back and he refused to help. Then I found them following me and I thought they were going to help me to find her but then from the way they started hunting me I realised that they were going to take me back.” She shook her head. “Now I see that spirits sent me out there to find you, Z’ta.”
He smiled. “Following the river is the only way I knew how to get home.”
She did not return his smile. “The spirits sent me to find you and bring you back. But perhaps they sent you to me, also.” She gestured at Satara. “He sent you to rut with At’ara so that you would be grateful to him. He wanted you to be his man, like N’fal and P’nu and Karu are. He lets them lie with At’ara, too. Alef expected to be chief any day now and he expects you to become the spirit walker.” She shook her head. Was that all it was?
“So what happened to Sama?” Z’ta asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Perhaps Alef does know something that could help us.”
Z’ta looked around. “Where is Alef?”
“He left at first light,” Satara said. “With N’fal and P’nu.”
“Left? To go where?”
“I don’t know but I saw them walking into the woods.”
“What about Karu?” Z’ta asked.
“He never returned at all after you left.”
Z’ta looked at Sif. “Was he not with us when we came back?”
“I don’t remember.”
Satara crossed his arms. “He was not. I saw four go and three come back. Now those three have gone also.”
“Did they run from Herkuhlos?” Z’ta asked. “They seemed afraid of him.”
“He was unhappy that his father was brought back to health,” Satara said. “I saw that, also.”
“Your eyes see much,” Z’ta said and it sounded like an insult.
“As I was taught by your father,” Satara replied, making it sound like an accusation. As if Z’ta should have been taught the ways also but he was not here. “That and many other things.”
Z’ta nodded thoughtfully and then blurted a question. “Did he ever teach you about apples?”
Sif glared at him, furious that he had betrayed some part of the secret sign their mother had left for her. Even so, she did not interrupt, as Satara’s face twisted in wary confusion. “Why do you ask that?”
“Does it have some meaning that we were never told? Some secret meaning? Does it cause you to think of a place, perhaps?”
Sif hissed at her brother and kicked his shin. He scowled but simply stared at Satara, urging him to reply.
“Tell me why you ask,” Satara ventured. “And then I will answer.”
“No,” Sif said, glaring at him. “You will answer and then we may tell you or we may not.”
Satara sighed and his narrow shoulders slumped. “It is not for you to know. It is not for anyone to know but perhaps if you swear to keep the secret. I tell you only because you are the son and the daughter of two spirit walkers and if your mother and father were here then they would speak of it.” Taking a breath, her plunged on. “There is an island where the apple trees grow in great numbers. Many people know where it is, you can even smell the apples as you paddle by in the fall, but only the initiated are permitted to go there. It is forbidden to approach and to land your canoe upon its shores is forbidden, and even if a hunter’s canoe is smashed, even if he is washed upon the shores he must walk back into the sea to die. The tide is strong between the main island and the forbidden island and an initiate must know the secret route through the sands and the rocks to reach the landing place.”
Sif’s heart pounded as he spoke for she knew that this surely was the place where her mother had gone. This was the place her mother wanted Sif to find.
“Is it far?” Z’ta asked, still a little confused.
Satara shook his head. “It lies between the Long Island and the Island of Seals.”
They were shocked to hear that it was no more than a day’s journey across the sea and between two vast inhabited islands. “But how then is it a secret place?”
“It is forbidden to even speak of the place, Z’ta,” Satara said, warding against evil spirits with a complicated and powerful gesture. “Only the initiated may know.”
“How do you know, then?” Sif asked, looking him up and down.
Satara was offended but tried to hide it. “I have helped Sama to cross to there. I had to stay on the beach in the bay until he returned and I paddled him home. Even using the tide and current, it is a long way for a man alone, especially an old man like Sama.”
“That is where Zani has gone,” Sif said to her brother. “I’m sure of it. We will go to the Long Island and from there we will go to this sacred place.”
“It is forbidden,” Satara said. “I should not have spoken of it because it is forbidden and if you go there then I will be punished along with you. Great Mother forgive me.”
She pointed at him. “My mother has told me to go there and so that is where I am going and you are going to take us there, Satara.” She glanced at the sea and judged the tide. “Be ready at dawn. The tide will take us out and then the current will take us further and then we will have a hard paddle to reach there by nightfall. We will need a passage canoe.”
Satara nodded, for he had enough authority that the hunters would allow him to take one of the double-hulled craft strong enough to cope with the waves. “We will have one.”
She felt excitement and fear for she had never crossed so far but also her brother would be at her side.
As for Alef, whatever nonsense he was up to did not matter because he was gone from the village and soon she would be too.
25. Farewell
“I must speak with you, lord,” Z’ta said, coming up to his side.
Herkuhlos had been feeling a certain comfort after his rest in the hut and the feast of fish and seal in his belly and he felt almost impossibly light after finally removing his armour and lion pelt and leaving them behind on the furs where he had slept. Beneath the straps and the leather, his skin had been chafed raw and sore and he had sat rubbing at the deep red marks wondering if they would ever heal.
Now he stood atop a mound of grassy sand staring in astonishment at the vast expanse of the sea ahead of him. The tide fascinated him, how the water retreated to expose a shimmering expanse of perfectly flat wet sand only for it to be covered again so that now the water came almost to the grassy dunes where their boats were heaved up.
The boats fascinated him, too. He had known boats like these all his life for travelling on the wide rivers of his homeland and he had seen others on the rivers here in the west. Indeed, he had already seen vessels of many kinds on the rivers and lakes, from coracles to rafts and logboats like these made from a single tree trunk hollowed into a shape.
Yet never had he seen any as large or as fine as these, with cavernous interiors and high, curving sides and sharp fronts shaped like axe blades. What was even more unusual was the way some of these boats were permanently lashed together by thick poles. Some of these were boats of similar siz
e while others were formed by an enormous single log with a far smaller one on the side, fit only for a single man to cram himself in. There was even a boat made with three great logs joined together. It must have been able to carry many men at once and would surely have taken great strength to move into the water and then to paddle out through the waves that stretched seemingly forever into the distance. Out there a long way from the sands was a group of men, one or even three to a boat, throwing out huge, weighted nets before hauling them in.
“I must thank you, Z’ta, for bringing us here. Your people have been generous hosts. Indeed, I have had to come away from the village as they wouldn’t stop giving me gifts.”
“I am glad.”
“You have spoken to your sister, I see.” Herkuhlos looked down at him. “And now you have something you must say to me.”
Z’ta nodded before turning to look out to sea. “She told me our mother and father have gone away and no one knows where. They were something like the priests of my clan and then some days before we came here both vanished. First one and then the other. No one knew where they had gone but my sister believed our father was killed and our mother fled to an island out to sea to be safe from those that killed him.”
“Is that what you believe happened?”
“Only the spirits know. Our father has vanished before. Our mother, too, for that matter. They were priests first, before all else. It’s possible they have both gone to this island and my sister is going there to find out.”
“And you must go with her.”
Z’ta nodded. “And yet my service is to you, lord.”
“I told you that I freed you from your service, Z’ta, and of course you must go with your sister. Find your mother and your father, if you can, and may the gods give you strength.”
“Thank you, lord.” He hesitated. “There is more that I must speak of before I go.” As he spoke, his gaze shifted and Herkuhlos turned to see what had caught his eye.
Behind him in the village, Pehur and Sunhus were walking with Amra, winding their way casually between the huts. Both men spoke to the girl at the same time while both offered their hands to help her step from the shifting sands onto the firmer ground.