Sisters of the Wolf

by Patricia Miller-Schroeder

  Shazur interrupts her. “Someone came into the sacred cave today and watched while I instructed my helpers.”

  Shinoni bends down to retrieve her sling from the grass, avoiding her father’s gaze.

  “They’ll soon go on their quest to become hunters. Nothing must go wrong to anger the spirits.”

  “It was me in the cave,” Shinoni admits.

  “I know. Why were you there? You know it’s forbidden.”

  “I want to make the animals live on the cave wall,” Shinoni says. “I want to honour the animals and be a hunter like you.”

  “Females don’t do these things,” Shazur insists.

  “I’d be a better helper to you than Sakat or Bardat,” Shinoni pleads. “I can make the images in the dust. I’ll show you.” She drops to her knees and an antler forms in the dirt under her fingers.

  “Stop!” Shazur cries. He pulls Shinoni up and scrapes the image away with his foot. “I know you’d be a good helper, even a hunter, but we mustn’t anger the spirits. No good will come of it.” He frowns. “Promise you won’t go into the sacred cave again.”

  “Father, the animal spirits call me. I’ve seen the eagle and a great wolf in my dreams. The eagle was on fire and the wolf jumped over a river that turned into a snake.”

  Shazur’s brows furrow, and his lips press together as they do when he’s preparing for a dangerous hunt. He lets go of Shinoni and steps back, searching her face. Shinoni clenches her jaw, fighting the urge to speak. Silence hangs heavy and unmovable between them, like the brooding rock face in the distance.

  Shazur finally nods his head and strides into the grass. “Come with me. Now.”

  “Are we going to the cave?” Shinoni scrambles to catch up.

  “You’ve already gone in and we can’t change that,” Shazur says. “No female but you has ever been in there. I fear the spirits’ anger.”

  The rock wall looms ahead of them, full of secret spaces. Shinoni slows her pace. Whispers carried in the wind ruffle the grass. Are the spirits welcoming her or threatening her?

  “You’re my daughter,” Shazur whispers. “I’ll ask the spirits to forgive your intrusion and allow you to be my helper.”

  “What if they don’t forgive me, Father?”

  “Then they’ll punish us. It’s too late to go back.”

  Shazur pushes through tangled brush at the base of the hill, revealing an entryway that Shinoni’s never seen. He holds a finger to his lips for silence and beckons her to follow as he disappears through the opening.

  Blackness deeper than a moonless night envelops Shinoni. The earth beneath her hands and knees is hard and smooth as she crawls through the narrow passage. How many other spirit seekers have polished these stones? None of them could have wanted to be here as much as she does.

  A rush of cool air, soft and moist as moss on her skin, greets Shinoni. The passage widens, and her nostrils quiver at the smell of wet earth and decaying leaves. A steady trickle of water thunders like a waterfall to her straining ears.

  Out of the darkness one flame begins to flicker, then another. Shazur appears from the shadows with two bear-oil lamps. Shinoni starts to ask a question but swallows her words as Shazur shakes his head. He hands one lamp to Shinoni and beckons her to follow him. Their lamplight reveals a stack of unlit lamps and flints by the entrance. On one side of them paintings of horses gallop into the gloom of a dusky corridor, but her father turns into another, narrower hallway that leads into blackness. The warmth of her lamp’s flame fans Shinoni’s face as they venture into the passage. Their shadows tower above them. Are they protectors in this spirit world where she’s an intruder?

  The corridor soon empties into another chamber, small enough that they can see all its walls in the glow of their lamps. There are images here Shinoni recognizes, but she’s never seen them painted on a cave wall. She gapes in wonder at shapes that resemble many things familiar to her: the sun, the moon, paths, rocks, footprints, streams, shelters, spears, and antlers. There are also lines, squiggles, squares, triangles, circles, dots, and handprints. The symbols, painted with red and yellow ochre, appear singly or in clusters on the walls. Shinoni feels their pull as they flicker with a life and meaning of their own in the lamplight.

  Shazur beckons her to the wall and sets his lamp on the ground beside her. Standing in the dancing circle of light, her father places his hands on Shinoni’s head and chants in a high singsong voice. “Hi-hee-hai-haa, hii-hee-hee-hai.”

  Shinoni shivers, and the hair on her arms rises in response to this eerie wail. It’s unlike any sound she’s ever heard. Her father’s usual deep, booming voice has transformed into a throaty bird call that vibrates in her ears.

  “Spirit guardians, we ask forgiveness for my daughter’s intrusion into your sacred home. She has spirit dreams and hears spirit animals calling her. She’s young and female, but she has the heart of a shaman and a hunter. My blood flows in her.” He begins the call again. “Hi-hee-hai-haa, hii-hee-hee-hai.”

  Shinoni trembles and her throat vibrates as her father’s wail surrounds her. She squirms with the effort to remain silent. “Heeee-haaaaa-ayiippp —” Shinoni chokes off the squealing wail coming from her lips. Her father’s fingers drum on her head and she stands still.

  “She wants to become a keeper of the sacred ways,” Shazur continues. “Soon she’ll go on her spirit quest and become a woman and a healer. You can test her to see if she’s worthy.”

  Shinoni shivers. Will the spirits accept her? How will they test her?

  Shazur leads her to a part of the wall near the entrance to the chamber and across from the flickering symbols. There on the floor in a shallow stone bowl rests a mixture of crushed ochre and melted bear fat, red as blood. Several clumps of solid ochre lie nearby with a stone plate and hammer stone for making pigment.

  Her father spits into the mixture to make it more liquid, then takes a blade from his pouch and pricks his thumb. Shinoni stretches out her hand and winces silently as Shazur pierces the skin of her thumb with his knife. Crimson drops of her blood mingle with her father’s in the bowl, joining their spirits in the swirl of the sacred pigment.

  Shazur places the palm of his hand in the mixture, coating it with colour, then presses it against the stone wall. He motions Shinoni to do the same. The pigment feels warm, alive under her hand as she dips it into the bowl. Then she stands side by side with Shazur, father and daughter, shaman and helper. Will the guardian spirits accept them? They step back, and their two red handprints, one higher, one lower, pulse like heartbeats in the fading lamplight.

  9

  NEANDERTHAL (KRAG)

  CAMP

  BEHIND THE FIRE BARRICADE, the cave is alive with Krag voices celebrating the victory over the lion. Keena, filling skin bags with water from a pool near the rear wall of the shelter, watches Haken and his hunters bask in a place of honour by the fires. Their teeth glint in the light of the flames as they slice chunks of meat from a deer haunch, jostling each other for the choicest cuts. Keena imagines them as wolves fighting for position at a kill. She shudders at the thought. As if taunting her, a howl echoes from the dark forest beyond the fires.

  Atuk, followed by two young women, approaches Haken. Keena strains to hear their words.

  “Haken, these women, Esal and Teal, have agreed to go with you. You’re a great hunter and they choose to follow you.”

  Keena draws into the shadows and holds her breath. Perhaps she won’t have to go with Haken after all, if other women want to go with him. Haken rises and walks around the women, silently nodding.

  “Teal gave breath to the child that was killed by the lion. She wants to go with the hunter who avenged her son.” Atuk points to the bundle under Teal’s cloak. “She’ll bring another small one to your camp.” Haken still circles without speaking. Atuk keeps his eyes on him, turning as he does. “Esal is strong and works hard. She lost her mate in the last great snow and wants to leave the mountain.”

  Haken stops and
glares at Atuk. “Where’s your daughter, old man?”

  “She’s getting water for your hunters,” Atuk says. His gaze doesn’t waver.

  “She’ll come with us, too.” Haken swaggers toward Atuk, closing the distance between them.

  “Please, Leeswi, no,” Keena whispers.

  Ubra pushes between Atuk and Haken. “She’s my only child, brother. I need her here.” Keena’s mother points at Esal and Teal. “These strong women want to follow you.”

  “I’ll take these women.” Haken waves his hand, dismissing them. He faces Atuk. “I’ll take your daughter, too. You gave your word.”

  “Keena’s already promised to a young hunter in our band. She can’t go.” Atuk draws himself up as straight as possible. He folds his arms across his chest.

  “Kreel wants me to go to his hearth?” Keena drops the water bag and clasps her hands over her mouth to muffle her words. She doesn’t want to leave her parents, but Kreel would be better than Haken.

  “Where’s this hunter? Has he killed a lion for you as I did? Is he brave enough to fight me?” Haken vibrates with fury. He throws back his head and howls, his rage echoing off the cave walls.

  Atuk holds his ground. “He’s away from camp. She goes to his hearth when he returns.”

  Keena nods. Yes, she’ll gladly go to Kreel’s hearth. But she doesn’t want him to fight Haken. That wouldn’t end well for her friend.

  “I’ll wait and kill this pup. I’ll still take your daughter, and you’ll lose a hunter.” Haken raises his spear, the bloodstained blade pointed at Atuk’s throat.

  Atuk pushes the spear aside, but his gaze wavers. He looks from Haken’s menacing scowl to Ubra’s stricken face, then to his people sitting round the fire with Haken’s men.

  “Do you want it said that Atuk’s word is like dust in the rain? That Atuk is full of wind? Such a man doesn’t deserve to lead a band.” Haken sneers.

  Keena stands by the pool in the shadows. She holds her breath, waiting for her father’s answer that will decide her fate.

  Atuk sighs heavily and nods. His words slice through the stillness, a flint blade piercing Keena’s heart. “I’ll keep my word.”

  Keena drops to her knees, faith in her father dissolving into the puddle of water spreading around her.

  Morning dawns cloudy and cold as Leeswi sends her icy breath into the camp. Keena’s band mills around the cave entrance as Haken and his hunters prepare to leave. Teal and Esal stand together, wrapped in warm furs, as Haken’s men place supply packs on the women’s backs.

  “You’re strong, Keena. You know how to survive.” Ubra hugs her daughter close.

  “I’ll return, you’ll see.” Furs and tears muffle Keena’s voice. She pushes away from her mother’s embrace. She doesn’t want to go with this hunter they all fear. Being wrenched away from her family is like getting ripped apart by an eagle. Keena wipes the tears from her cheeks with her fur cape. Father said she must go, so she will. She buries her anger and pain deep in her belly and faces her mother with a wobbly smile.

  “Remember all that I’ve taught you, and don’t anger Haken,” Ubra says. “He’s dangerous, like a woolly big horn.” She pushes a small hide-covered package wrapped with a tendon into Keena’s hand. It lies hard and unyielding in her palm.

  “What’s this, Mother?” A chill runs through Keena’s body.

  “It’s a claw from the lion. I cut it from the beast last night while Atuk slept.”

  Keena imagines Ubra bending over the lion carcass in the dead of night, sawing its claw with a bone blade as the night creatures circle beyond her torch.

  “Why, Mother? You could’ve been killed.” She tries to drop the claw, but Ubra catches her hand and closes her fingers around the package.

  “It’s powerful and it’ll protect you,” her mother says.

  “Why protect me? The lion would kill me if it could, like it killed Tat and the others.”

  “Keep it with you.” Ubra hugs Keena. “The lion hates Haken more, and the claw can protect you from him. Keep it close to your body.”

  Keena ties the tendon to a strip of fur inside her cloak.

  Atuk approaches, his face grey and drawn, his eyes shadowed. “I’m sorry, daughter.”

  Keena turns away to hide her tears. How could her father have allowed this to happen? She used to sit on his knee and listen to his stories. He’d always protected her.

  “You’re the leader. What’s the life of a daughter compared to that?” Keena flinches as Haken forces a pack on her back.

  “Your daughter belongs to me now. She follows a new path.” He smirks at Ubra. “She’ll take the place you left when you followed this one.” He spits at Atuk, then takes Keena’s arm and drags her toward the mountain path.

  “Keena,” Ubra calls after her. “You carry my breath and my mother’s breath.”

  “I’ll come home, Mother.” Keena stumbles as she looks back, but she’s pulled into line and supported by Esal and Teal as they move down the mountain path. Her mother’s voice disappears into the wind.

  10

  CRO-MAGNON (KULA)

  CAMP

  SHINONI EMERGES WITH SHAZUR from the darkness of the sacred cave into dazzling sunshine. She turns slowly, much more aware of her senses as she takes in the familiar surroundings. The calls of birds are clear and piercing as they flock in the trees, and the rustle of small animals travelling through the grasses and bushes throbs in her ears. The distant bellow of a rutting deer far in the forest sounds as near as the crackling of the smoke fires and the children’s voices rising from the camp. Are the animal spirits talking to her?

  Shazur rubs his hand with moss and gives Shinoni a clump.

  “I’d like to wear it for awhile.” Shinoni admires her red palm.

  “No one must see it,” Shazur says.

  Shinoni wipes her palm clean and follows Shazur down the hillside. His long legs eat up the ground, and soon the cluster of deerskin shelters looms ahead. She tugs on his tunic. “Have the spirits forgiven me? Have they accepted me as a helper?”

  “I don’t know. You must be patient.” Shazur sighs.

  “Will I be able to talk to my mother’s spirit as you do?”

  “Your mother’s spirit will speak to you when you’re ready to hear her.”

  “Will you teach me what the symbols in the cave mean?”

  “We have to wait and see if the spirits accept you as a helper before you can learn the symbols’ meaning.” Shazur hesitates. “They may test you.”

  “I’m ready to be tested,” Shinoni says.

  “There’s danger near,” Shazur cautions. “When the sun rose, I saw the eagle fall from the sky in flames. I don’t know if it was a warning or a threat from the spirits.”

  Shinoni shivers as a cloud covers the sun and the animal voices ring louder in her ears. “Our hunters will be back soon. You see, someone’s coming now.” She points to where the bushes are swaying, but when they part it’s her grandmother who pushes through.

  Reza drops her load of reeds and stands, hands on hips, frowning at Shinoni. “There you are, weasel girl. Always slinking away when there’s work to do.”

  “Let me help you, Grandmother.” Shinoni picks up Reza’s reed bundle and carries it into one of the skin shelters.

  “You must do something with your daughter, Shazur.” Reza’s words reach Shinoni’s ears, and she peers out from the shelter. Surely Father won’t tell her what they’ve done.

  “She’s a lot like you, Mother. Neither of you listens to anyone.” Shazur touches his tattooed chin to Reza’s wrinkled forehead. “I feel the spirits warning of danger. It’s strong.” Shazur scans the silent forest like a man waiting for the charge of a wounded bear.

  “So you’ve felt it, too. Then it’s a powerful warning,” Reza says. “The spirits spoke to me at the lake.”

  “I fear for Shinoni,” Shazur says. “The spirits whispered her name in their warning.”

  Father never mentioned that t
o her. Shinoni leaves the shelter and joins Shazur and Reza, standing uneasily between them.

  “My granddaughter’s strong, but she must find her own spirit helper. The eagle may not be able to help her.” Reza hugs Shinoni. “I’ll keep her with me.”

  “Perhaps I already have a different spirit helper,” Shinoni says. Good thing the wolf came to her in the dream world and visited her fire.

  “I’ve something for you, daughter.” Shazur opens his deerskin pouch and takes out a beautifully worked flint knife. It’s the one he used in the cave to prick their thumbs. The sharp blade, slender and fluted, has been wiped clean of their blood. “I made this for you to use when you go on your real quest for a spirit helper at the women’s celebration,” Shazur says. “Take it now. You might need it.”

  Shinoni takes the knife and holds it gingerly, balancing it in her hand as the sun glints off the sharply angled marks on the blade.

  “Thank you, Father. I’ll use it often.” She places it in her pouch beside her sling, stones, and rope.

  Reza snorts. “It’s a fine blade, but really a boy’s gift.”

  “You’ve much to learn and a long way to travel, Shinoni,” her father says. “The blade will serve you.” He strides down the path to the camp before she can answer.

  “Come, girl, you can help me pick medicine plants.” Reza hands Shinoni a woven grass basket and leads her into a tangled patch of berry bushes and small trees near the marsh.

  “Remember, you’re the shaman’s daughter,” Reza scolds. “Even though you’re female, you might become a leader. You’ll be medicine woman to our people.”

  “I know this, Grandmother,” Shinoni says. “You tell me all the time.”

  “To lead you must follow the Kula rules,” Reza says. “Stop hunting and fighting with the boys and act like a woman of our tribe. Be an example for others.”

  “Shouldn’t a girl who might someday lead her tribe be able to hunt and fight? I’m better than most of the boys, anyway.” Shinoni moves into the bushes to avoid Reza’s scowl.