“Pick medicine plants, then. Berries and leaves from the belly plant to help Etak push her little one out quickly when she gives it breath. Fever plant, too. Take it all — leaves, stem, roots. You remember?” Reza says, her voice shrill. “We might need them to take poison from wounds the men have when they return.”
“Do you think the men will be injured, Grandmother?” Shinoni shifts uneasily from one foot to the other.
“I don’t know, girl, but medicine women must always be prepared.” Reza rubs her back, then points to a scrubby tree, its needles yellow among the green blanket of the taller conifers. “My back is sore from cutting reeds and that tree’s sap helps ease the pain. Look for the other plants and bring them to me.” Reza stamps down the trail, leaving Shinoni alone in the shadows.
11
NEANDERTHAL (KRAG)
HAKEN’S CAMP IN THE VALLEY BELOW
KEENA SITS BY HERSELF in a small recess at the back of Haken’s cave. The rhythmic drumbeats echo deep in her chest. She loves drumming, but this time it’s different. Her shoulders sway, but this is no joyful celebration. A crackling fire dances and leaps high, throwing monstrous shapes onto the stone walls around her. Krag women and children sit in the shadows. Teal sits among them, nursing her small one.
“Hiyaa, hiyaa, yip, yip, yip!” The women and children watch as Haken and his men stomp and chant fiercely. Their faces and bodies, painted with red ochre and black pitch, glisten with sweat from the heat of the fire and their feverish dancing. Most wear headdresses of antlers or tusks pulled over their heavy brows.
Haken, wearing his headdress made of the skull and upper jaw of a cave bear and brandishing a wooden club over his head, is working himself into a wild frenzy. His bloodcurdling howl echoes from the stone walls. “Destroy the brown-skinned devils. They take our animals and leave our people hungry.” Haken’s club smashes against a stalagmite on the floor, shattering it. A shower of jagged rock splinters flies over the dancers. Pain from their cuts only increases their rage. This, too, is the Kulas’ fault.
Haken throws a fine grey powder into the fire, causing the flames to shoot higher and sending sparks into the dome of the cavern. The glow illuminates a giant log painted with black lines that stands propped against a side wall. Haken grabs a spear, its heavy stone point coloured with red ochre. He charges the log.
“Eeeyaaa!” His thrust pierces deeply, the blade embedded in the gut of the log. “Death to the Kulas. Destroy them all,” Haken screams.
Other men take up the cry, attacking the log, the symbol of their enemy, with spears, clubs, and hand axes.
Keena pulls a tattered deerskin shawl over her head, covering her ears and hiding the bushy, flame-coloured braid on her shoulder, separating herself from the raw fury pulsating around her. I hope the Kulas can fight. She’s a female of Haken’s band now, but she’s still Keena, daughter of Ubra. The long treacherous journey from her mountain home was exhausting and took many sun times, but Keena knows in her heart that nothing can keep her from going home.
12
CRO-MAGNON (KULA)
CAMP
SHINONI PEERS INTO the matted undergrowth on the forest floor. Where are the barbed leaves of the fever plant hiding? Where are the tart red berries of the belly plants? They’ll be dry now and harder to see among their hairy leaves, but she’ll find them.
The earthy smell of rotting plant debris tickles her nose as she pushes aside some fern fronds. Aha, there. Nestled among the pine needles on the ground are several small fever plants. She wraps a layer of moss around them to protect her hands from their stinging leaf barbs, as Reza has shown her. An uneasy breeze ruffles her hair as she plucks the plants and places them, moss and all, into her pouch.
Buzzzzz, buzzztt. Buzzz.
Shinoni cocks her head, locating the droning bees. “Hey, little stingers, do you have honey to share?” Her mouth waters at the thought of the sweet liquid oozing onto her tongue. She moves farther into the bushes, trying to spot the hive.
Stay close to camp, Shinoni. Her father’s warning intrudes into her thoughts. Why must there be so many rules?
You’ll be medicine woman to our people. Reza’s words prod her on. She still has to find the belly plants. Ah, there they are. Red berries swaying waist high on prickly stems deep among the brambles. Yes, she’s a medicine woman like her grandmother. Shinoni carefully plucks the berries, wraps them in their own toothed leaves, and adds them to the treasures in her pouch. Reza will be proud of her.
The shadows of the berry bushes lengthen as Shinoni steps back onto the trail. Now where is her grandmother? Has she gone down the slope to the marsh where women are still cutting reeds and setting fish traps? It’s not likely Grandmother would return there with her sore back.
Shinoni looks up the slope toward the camp, where everyone else is busy going about their tasks. Old women hang fish to dry on the smoke racks, and scrape hides. Children wrestle with each other and play with scraps of hide and bones. Old men test their skill rolling stones in the shade. Her father instructs his helpers, Bardat and Sakat, under a tree. Not likely Grandmother went back to camp, either. She’s probably still picking medicine plants.
Everyone but me is happy doing what they’re supposed to do. Shinoni closes her eyes and sighs. It would be fun to explore the valley beyond with the men.
“Arrrgh! Yeee yip! Raahhrr!” Beastly roars slash through the stillness of the camp. Shinoni’s eyes fly open.
Screams of the children mingle with the murderous snarls. “Help! Ma! Nooo!”
Shinoni drops to the ground and rolls behind a bush, nostrils flaring. What kind of predators are terrorizing her people? Drawing a deep breath, she creeps forward and peeks through the branches. Her neck hairs bristle in terror. Strange Ones! Father said they eat children.
Shinoni sobs as the Krags charge among her startled band. One runs through the group of children, smashing them with his club. The old women rush forward but are met with the Krags’ spears. Within moments, the ground is littered with bodies.
The marauders light torches from the smoke fires and throw them into the shelters. Their faces, painted with ochre and pitch, glow in the light of the flames. They wear the skulls, antlers, and teeth of beasts on their heads, and their animal snarls drive a wrenching shaft of terror deep into Shinoni’s belly.
She gags as smoke fills her nostrils, choking her breath. As the flames lick at her home, the heat and ashes carried on the wind sting her throat and eyes, temporarily blinding her. By the time her vision clears, her family’s shelter has disappeared.
Shazur rushes forward with Sakat and Bardat, leading the old men and boys in a counterattack, armed only with sticks and rocks. “Father, nooo!” Shinoni cries.
“Eeeyaaa!” A Strange One wearing the jaw of a cave bear on his head meets her father head on, impaling him on his spear. “Hiiii yiiippp!” His victory howl pierces Shinoni’s ears as she collapses on the ground.
“No, no. Father!” Rough hands grab her from behind and pull her into the brambles. She struggles wildly and tries to scream, but a hand clamps over her mouth. Needle thorns rip at her arms as a frantic hiss coils in her ear.
“Shhh, quiet.” It’s Reza. Shinoni stops struggling as her grandmother hugs her tightly. “You carry our people’s knowledge, girl. You must protect it. Run. Hide.”
“Come with me, Grandmother,” Shinoni pleads. “We’ll hide together.”
“I’m old, Shinoni,” Reza says. “You’re our medicine woman now. Run.”
“Eeeyaaa!” A Strange One yells. Shinoni and Reza turn and see some of the Strange Ones pointing toward the lake. They must have seen the women there. Shinoni and Reza watch in horror as they crash down the slope.
Shinoni freezes, but Reza pushes her into the trees. Shadows close around her as her grandmother’s words trail behind her. “Run like a deer. I’m always with you.”
Shinoni races blindly into the twilight world of the great forest. She runs along game trails, deeper and deeper into i
ts dappled depths. Her chest feels like it’ll burst, and she can no longer breathe when at last she falls on the leaf-strewn earth.
“Father … Grandmother … don’t leave me alone,” she whispers. Her mind flies to the sacred cave. She sees her father’s face, lined and serious, telling her that the spirits had warned him of danger, that he’d seen their mighty clan eagle fall from the sky in flames. She’d also seen an eagle on fire in her own dream.
Had the spirits warned Shazur of danger, or had they threatened him because his daughter had been in the sacred cave? Are the spirits protecting her now or punishing her? Had her behaviour angered the spirits so much they punished her people? She forces the painful thoughts from her mind and pulls herself up.
Shifting patterns of light and shade filter through the oak and evergreen canopy. The forest spins around her. Tree tops tower above her. Everything looks the same.
Croak. Craat. Bizzzt. The deep voice of a frog, the raucous calls of a jay, the drone of insects — the muted calls of the forest surround her.
A twig snaps in the undergrowth, then another. Something’s moving stealthily toward her through the tangled shrubbery. Shinoni rises, her senses jangling with alarm.
She detects movements around her in several places. The bushes tremble here; leaves rustle there. A low growl rumbles in the sudden stillness.
“Who’s there? Show yourself.” No human voices answer Shinoni, but the sound of breathing is all around her. She backs against a large tree, feeling behind her for the solid trunk. Sweat drips from her brow and trickles between her shoulder blades.
A large grey she-wolf moves out of the shadows and approaches Shinoni. Her eyes gleam in the dim light, and her white fangs flash. The wolf sits down, cocking her head and staring at Shinoni.
The rest of the pack glides out of the twilight, and now six wolves form a circle around her. The other wolves aren’t as calm as their leader. Some snarl, and a young wolf leaps forward, teeth bared. The large female steps in front of him, knocking him aside. She growls and snaps at the youngster, and he backs off submissively. The pack settles down around Shinoni.
Why don’t they attack? What do they want from me? Shinoni tries not to move. She struggles to keep her voice calm as she addresses the pack leader. “Thank you, mother wolf — or are you saving me for yourself?” Shinoni shudders at the thought. She slowly slips the rope out of her pouch and glances up at the overhanging branches.
She looks back at the wolf. “Perhaps you’ve been sent to be my spirit helper, my tewa.” She speaks slowly and calmly, never taking her eyes from the she-wolf. “Stay calm, mother.”
As she tosses the knotted end of the rope over an overhanging branch in one quick, smooth motion, Shinoni begins to sing softly, a wordless lullaby chant her mother had sung to her when she was a frightened small one. “Aaii, aaii … um, um … he, he.”
A wolf snarls and stands up.
Shinoni gulps and continues to sing shakily. “Aaii, aaii … um, um … he, he. Aaii, aaii … he, he … he, he …”
The wolves whine, heads tilted, as Shinoni reaches up and pulls on the rope to test it. The coil falls limply back on her shoulders. She wills herself to keep singing calmly. “Aaii, aaii … You don’t want to eat me … aaii, aaii … I taste bad … um, um … C’mon rope, hold …”
Again she throws the rope over the branch above. She catches the knotted end and jerks it. This time it holds. She scales the tree, pulling herself up, then swings her legs up over the branch as two wolves rush toward her, growling and snapping. Shinoni clings precariously to the limb as the pack mills and leaps below her. The big she-wolf still sits, watching her.
“Are you my tewa?” Shinoni murmurs. She can’t look away from the wolf’s eyes.
A sudden commotion along the trail breaks the spell. Shinoni gasps as loud voices and harsh laughter swell from the forest depths. She’s sure these are the Strange Ones, and the last time she heard them, they were killing her people. Tremors shake her body as the sounds of crashing footsteps and breaking branches draw nearer. The wolves snarl and disappear like wraiths into the undergrowth.
The boisterous Strange Ones burst into the clearing carrying loads of skins, food, and tools taken from Shinoni’s camp. To her horror, they flop on the ground near her tree. She blinks back tears as they laugh, pass around a stash of finely chiselled Kula blades, and chew on dried meat from her people’s fires.
Their leader glowers under his bear-skull headdress. His fierce face is smeared with red ochre and streaks of sweat. A puckered scar runs across his cheek, partially closing one eye.
This Strange One stabbed her father with his bloody spear. She wants to leap on him and slit his throat with the knife Shazur made for her, but there are too many of them. She wills her body to be still and clings to her perch.
Several of the Strange Ones approach the leader, holding out their hands and calling him something that sounds like Ha-ken. He shoves them and spits on the ground. Shinoni strains to hear what they say, but their words are gibberish to her ears, like the grunts of beasts. The hunters keep their distance, and she senses they fear him.
“Hoo-yeeeaa.” Shinoni cringes at the leader’s ferocious howl. He reaches under his cloak and pulls out an eagle-shaped amulet and swings it in the air.
“Nooo,” Shinoni moans. Her father’s amulet. She chokes back a sob, but her movement shakes the branches.
The startled hunters jabber and point at Shinoni. Haken’s face twists into a triumphant leer. These Strange Ones swarming below her are far more dangerous than the wolf pack was, but her fear erupts into fury. “Stay away from me,” she screams. “You’ll be sorry if you bother me.”
A hunter below her swaying perch scoops a stone from the ground. He takes aim and sends the rock flying into the branches. The stone hurtles through the leaves. An excruciating pain explodes in Shinoni’s head, and she falls from the tree. Darkness closes over her as she hits the ground.
Her eyes flutter open. A circle of Strange Ones bends over her. One of them raises a club and she braces for the killing blow, too weak to move.
Haken shouts and grabs the hunter’s arm. He lowers his face to hers and lifts the eagle amulet tied around her neck. Shinoni gags at his animal smell and sinks into blackness, the the image of her amulet and her father ’s amulet, gleaming together in Haken’s bloodstained hand, seared into her mind.
13
NEANDERTHAL (KRAG)
HAKEN’S CAMP
SHINONI AWAKES IN AN ALIEN WORLD. How did she get here? Her eyelids, heavy as flint, refuse to lift, but her nostrils recoil at the earthy animal stench surrounding her. This was the last thing she smelled before losing consciousness. Strange Ones.
Shinoni shakes her head groggily, wincing as pain shoots down her neck. She opens her eyes and the cave spins wildly. Sinister shapes prowl the walls around her. A woman of the Strange Ones pulls her to a sitting position and unties the strips of sinew that bind her hands. She holds a skin pouch to Shinoni’s lips. The liquid is warm and as bitter as reindeer bile. Shinoni sips a little, then spits it out. The woman persists, speaking to her in that language she can’t understand.
Suddenly it all comes back. “Father, Grandmother,” Shinoni whispers.
She struggles to stand but doesn’t get far. She falls back to the ground, her ankles bound together with sinew. Her vision clears, bringing into focus firelight licking the stone walls and dancing over the faces of the Strange Ones watching her. Their eyes glitter below heavy brow ridges, hostile and suspicious.
“Leave me alone, monsters,” Shinoni shouts.
The strange woman pushes aside a bearskin that covers the cave entrance and bellows into the night. Heartbeats later, she leaps aside as Haken bursts through the opening.
Vomit rises in Shinoni’s throat as his scent overpowers her. The hands that killed her father pull her to her feet. He babbles in the Strange Ones’ language. His rasping words are meaningless in her ears but the threat is clear.
>
“What do you want, disgusting creature?” Shinoni says.
Haken shakes her angrily. He lifts her close to his scarred face and stabs his finger at her amulet swinging on the cord around her neck. Shinoni struggles, tugging his fur cloak off his shoulders. There, hanging around this hateful Strange One’s neck, is her father’s amulet. Firelight glints off the polished ivory eagle.
“That belongs to Shazur, thief. You killed my father.” Shinoni grabs for the talisman.
Haken roars in surprised rage and snatches a club from a nearby henchman. Shinoni squeezes her eyes shut, unable to move. Quick as a flash, two hands jerk her backward out of Haken’s reach. The club crashes on stone.
“If you do that again, he’ll kill you.” The voice hissing in her ear is speaking her own language, the Kula language.
Shinoni turns and stares into the green eyes of a girl about her own age. She’s a girl of the Strange Ones, short and heavy, with fair skin on her broad cheeks and brow ridge, and red hair pulled back in a braid. Their eyes connect and hold.
The girl releases Shinoni’s arm and shrugs. “It doesn’t matter to me if he does kill you.”
“Kee-na,” Haken shouts. He kicks the girl and she withdraws into the shadows.
Shinoni glares at Haken and holds her hands over her ears.
Haken shakes her like a fox with a vole, then points at her amulet. The woman who untied Shinoni’s hands whispers to him. He releases Shinoni and motions to Keena, speaking to her and gesturing toward Shinoni.
“Haken wants the hunting magic your people use. He thinks you know it.” Keena points to the amulet around Shinoni’s neck. “He thinks there’s magic in that.”
“My father asked the spirits to help our hunters. But I don’t know how,” Shinoni says. “Women can’t see the ceremony.”
“You’d better tell him what he wants to know, Kula girl.”
“I can’t.” Angry tears well in Shinoni’s eyes. “Haken has no patience. He’ll kill you. If you tell him what he wants, he might let you live as a captive.”
Sisters of the Wolf Page 5