Sisters of the Wolf

by Patricia Miller-Schroeder

  “You can’t fool me, brats. I’ve hunted bigger game than you.” The girls can see him staring intently at the shrubs as he moves ever nearer.

  Suddenly, a grey streak leaps from the undergrowth. A snarling Tewa knocks Haken to the ground, then jumps over him and runs into the forest. The hunters take off in pursuit. Haken roars an angry oath. He glances back suspiciously into the clearing before following the others on Tewa’s trail.

  Keena takes her hand from Shinoni’s mouth, then picks up a rock and smashes the snake’s head. She offers the dead serpent to Shinoni, who backs away.

  “They’re good eating.” Keena looks at her quizzically. “So, the great Kula hunter is afraid of a snake?”

  “A snake crawled into my bed when I was a young one.” Shinoni relives the terrifying memory that never fades, her voice shaking. “It coiled beside me like this one here. It hissed, and I reached to see what it was. My mother threw herself over me and the snake killed her.” Tears roll down Shinoni’s cheeks. “It’s my fault she died.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, if you were a young one.” Keena wraps the carcass in leaves and slings it on her back. “A snake took your mother’s life and now this snake gives it’s life to feed us. No one knows when Leeswi the Earth Spirit will take our breath.”

  Shinoni’s stomach lurches at the thought of eating the snake, but she follows Keena into the forest. A wolf howl quavers nearby.

  “Hoo hooo!” Shinoni responds. Tewa made it. The wolf avoided Haken’s spear.

  16

  AFTER THEIR ESCAPE FROM HAKEN, Shinoni and Keena spend the dark time in a dead tree trunk in the forest. They leave when the sun wakes, and by the time she rides high in the sky the trees have thinned into a broad plain. The girls walk through waist-high grass that sways as the wind whistles down from the glacier. They clutch their cloaks tight against the biting cold. Keena swivels her head from side to side, peering into the foliage and testing the air. Surely there are predators lurking here. How can the Kula girl stride ahead, so unconcerned? Keena catches up and pokes her.

  “We should walk on the forest edge.” Keena’s voice is low, almost lost in the rustling of the grass. “My people would cross a place such as this in a group.”

  “My people are braver than yours. Our hunters fear nothing.” Shinoni glances over her shoulder without slowing her pace and grins at Keena. “You can stick behind me if you’re scared.”

  Keena plants her sturdy legs firmly on the game trail and spins Shinoni around. “Ah, I forgot you’re a hunter. I feel better already.” She glares into Shinoni’s amused face.

  “Calm down, Krag. We’ve come too far to turn back now,” Shinoni says. “We need to get across the grasses to find shelter before the sun sleeps.”

  Keena’s no longer listening to Shinoni. She stretches as tall as she can, neck and ears straining, nostrils flaring as she sniffs the air. “Shhh. Did you hear that?” She clutches Shinoni’s arm, her muscles tensing for flight.

  “Stop fooling around. You can’t frighten me, Krag.”

  “Can’t you smell it?” Keena stares into the grasses ahead. “Laugh devils. Close, too.”

  The wind blows the hair back from their faces, bringing with it the faint but distinctively musky smell of hyena. Keena points with her free hand. “Come on, we passed some trees. Let’s hide in there. They’ll smell us soon.”

  “Relax, we’re upwind of them.” Shinoni shakes off Keena’s hand. “Let’s get closer. They may have a kill.”

  “You’re kidding, right? We’ll be their kill.” Keena’s voice is high and squeaky, like a mouse with no place to hide. “Before the last snow they carried off two boys from my camp.”

  “Aren’t you hungry, Krag?” Shinoni persists. “Maybe we can scare them off. Take some of the meat.”

  “Are you kidding? They bit off a hunter’s arm who tried to save those boys.” Keena is horrified. How can this Kula be so stupid?

  “It’s not like they’re lions,” Shinoni coaxes.

  “They’re worse than lions when they’re in a group.” Keena has had enough. She turns to retrace her steps along the path, but when she looks back her breath freezes in her throat.

  “Come on, shadow.” Shinoni waves to Keena as she disappears into the grass in the direction of the hyenas.

  Sweat rolls down Keena’s face. Her terror at being alone on the open plains struggles with her fear of the laugh devils. A lone Krag is a dead Krag, as her father often says. She forces her numb legs to move and follows Shinoni into the grass.

  Several heartbeats later Shinoni and Keena, lying on their bellies, part the grasses just enough to peer onto a savage scene. A clan of six fearsome cave hyenas snarl and snap over the torn and bloody remains of a deer.

  Keena’s never been this close to laugh devils before. She gags at their smell but can’t tear her eyes away from their kill. The hyenas’ faces, crimson with blood, push deep into the belly of the deer, ripping out entrails and snapping bones from the carcass.

  The strong breeze blowing toward Keena and Shinoni carries the heavy smell of blood and death to them but keeps their scent from the hyenas. Shinoni fits a stone to her sling and starts to stand up. Keena grabs her ankle and yanks her back. Does the foolish Kula really want to be torn to pieces like the deer? Keena frantically shakes her head and makes a slitting motion across her neck.

  “I’ve seen our hunters do this,” Shinoni says. She jumps to her feet shouting, “Yah yah! Run, cowards. Eeiiyaaa!” She twirls her sling, letting the rock fly, and then scoops more stones from the ground. She advances on the hyenas, yelling and hurling rocks.

  The startled beasts leap backward, tumbling over each other. Suddenly the wind shifts. The hyenas sniff the air and turn menacingly toward Shinoni and Keena. They lower their heads. Saliva drools from their heavy jaws, their lips pulled back over sharp, powerful teeth.

  Hahahahahahaaa. The laugh devils’ chilling hunting cry swells in the air.

  “Run! Head for that tree.” Keena leaps to her feet, grabbing Shinoni and pulling her back into the grass. They race full speed for a solitary tree in the distance.

  Hahahaaa. Crying loudly, the hyenas take off in hot pursuit, rapidly gaining on their prey. Keena’s short legs can’t keep up with Shinoni’s ground-eating strides. She stumbles as the lead hyena leaps.

  “Leeswi, spare me!” Keena screams. She looks back in horror.

  A spear is thrust up from the grass and strikes the lead hyena, killing her instantly. The seemingly empty savannah explodes with activity as Krag hunters spring from the grass on all sides, wielding spears and heavy clubs. They charge the hyenas as Shinoni and Keena scramble up the tree and watch the battle unfold.

  The hyenas circle around their dead leader and pull a hunter down.

  “Aiiiieeee!” The sound of the hunter’s screams and cracking bones fill the air.

  “Arrrgh. Rraaagg.” The other Krags growl and roar ferociously as they move in with clubs swinging to save the injured hunter. The hyenas break and run. The Krags run after them, brandishing clubs and throwing stones. Two hyenas lie dead on the ground near the injured Krag hunter.

  The Krags turn back to their companion, who moans as they examine his ripped and bloody leg. Almost as one, their heads turn toward the tree, and toward Shinoni and Keena high in its branches. They congregate below and glare up at the girls. One who appears to be the leader gestures for them to come to the ground.

  “Do you know them? They’re like you,” Shinoni says.

  “They’re not from Haken’s group or mine,” Keena replies.

  The leader continues to gesture for them to come down. The other Krags join him and call noisily in the Krag tongue.

  “They want us down there and we’d better do it.” Keena shifts her weight nervously, awkward and uneasy in the treetop.

  “No way. I’ve had enough of Krag monsters already.” Shinoni hangs on tighter to the swaying branch. Keena frowns at her and descends.

  Shinoni w
atches as the angry hunters surround Keena and babble questions at her. Their leader looks up at her in the tree. He shakes his spear, then spits into the grass. His voice rises as he points from the injured man to her.

  Keena cups her hands and shouts above the din. “His name’s Gandar, and he’s upset that they’ve lost a good hunter for a Kula girl. He’s even more upset because it’s his brother.”

  Shinoni eyes the wounded Krag rolling on the ground. “He isn’t dead yet.”

  “He will be soon. Even if he lives he’ll be a burden.”

  Shinoni remembers the last time Krags treed her, how they knocked her down with a stone. It’s probably best to come down by herself. She watches the hunters warily as she descends to the ground.

  “Tell them I can help. I need to look at his leg.”

  “How can you help?” Keena scoffs.

  Shinoni tries to approach the injured Krag, but the others block her path. “My grandmother was a healer. She taught me to treat wounds,” Shinoni whispers to Keena, who translates Shinoni’s message to Gandar.

  The Krag leader’s brows lock in a solid ridge above his eyes as he studies Shinoni. She stands her ground and returns his stare. Gandar then snorts and motions to the others. They back off just enough to let Shinoni through. She squeezes past them, gagging as the stench of Krag blood and sweat engulfs her. She can feel the hunters’ glares boring into her back as she kneels beside the injured man.

  Shinoni searches for Keena’s face in the crush of Krag bodies surrounding her. “Tell them to give me more room,” Shinoni says. Keena calls to Gandar, who again motions to the others to back up. They sit in a semicircle watching her every move.

  Keena sits close to Shinoni, hardly daring to breath. The young hunter writhes in pain as his blood flows into the ground. Can the Kula girl help him? He reminds her of Kreel. She clutches the ibex-tooth pendant he gave her as she feels the sting of his loss. She wonders if he is still alive.

  Shinoni squats and opens her pouch. She takes out the small moss-wrapped yellow fever plants and carefully crushes them between two rocks. Reza’s wrinkled face flashes before her eyes. She places the mashed plant material back onto the moss and spits on it several times to moisten it. She feels Reza’s hands guiding hers as she spreads the mixture on the wound and covers it with more moss from her pouch.

  “Thank you, Grandmother,” Shinoni murmurs, grateful she’d paid attention to the lesson.

  The injured Krag moans and Shinoni chants the same soothing sound that calmed the wolf pack. “Aaii, aaii … um, um … he, he. Aaii, aaii … he, he … he, he …”

  The hunter seems to relax. She covers the poultice with a layer of dry grasses, then cuts some strips of hide from her cloak with her knife to bind it to his leg. Finally she breaks two stout branches from the tree and binds the hunter’s leg from knee to ankle between them.

  “I’ve done what I can.” Shinoni stands up shakily. “If his spirit’s strong, he’ll recover. If not, he’ll die.”

  “If not, he won’t be the only one who dies,” Keena says.

  The Krags move forward, pushing past Shinoni and examining their companion, who’s now unconscious. They begin to speak rapidly, their voices rising.

  “They think he’s dead, Kula. Is he?” Keena whispers.

  “Why are Krags so stupid?” Shinoni sighs. “He has breath. He moves.”

  Keena scowls and steps back.

  The unconscious Krag begins to stir. Gandar speaks to Keena gruffly, then gives orders to the others.

  “He says they need to find shelter before dark. We have to go with them.”

  “Tell him we can’t. We aren’t going in the same direction.”

  “We don’t have a choice. He’s in charge,” Keena points out.

  Two hunters lift the injured man and support him between them. Keena and Shinoni find themselves in the middle of the group. Spear butts nudge them into a brisk trot as they silently move into the tall grass. A lion’s deep cough echoes in the distance as the first flush of sunset traces a warning in the sky over the open grassland.

  Shinoni feels the rumble of hunger as they move farther and farther through the swaying grass. She moves closer to Keena, drawing unexpected warmth and security from her presence, even if she is a Krag. Maybe she can be a friend. Shinoni blinks back tears, realizing that her Kula friends are dead. Storm clouds blow in and a chill rain begins to fall. Gandar’s hunters pick up their relentless pace in the growing twilight.

  Keena sighs. It’s good to feel safe in a group as she trots, surrounded by burly Krag hunters. She looks across at Shinoni, who worked so hard to help the young hunter. Their safety will swiftly disappear if Leeswi decides to take his breath. None of this would have happened if she hadn’t been so reckless. Still, she’s not too bad for a Kula.

  Keena moves closer to Shinoni until they are shoulder to shoulder, facing the dangers of the coming night together.

  17

  SHINONI AND KEENA crouch under the rock overhang where Gandar’s hunters have set up camp. The injured man lies by a glowing hearth, moaning feverishly. The other hunters mutter and grumble as they watch him.

  Shinoni examines the darkness beyond the fire, looking for some way to escape. The rain still falls, and the shrill hunting cries of the hyenas echo in the distance. Better to stay here until the light returns. She shivers and moves closer to the protection of the firelight.

  “Why did they help us if they now take us prisoner?” she asks Keena.

  “I’m a Krag,” Keena says. “Perhaps they thought you were one, too, before they got a good look at you.”

  “What will they do with us if he dies?” Shinoni asks.

  “They might take us with them — as mates or captives.”

  “Both of us?”

  “I don’t know.” Keena throws a stick into the fire, avoiding Shinoni’s eyes. She nods toward the injured hunter. “He’ll likely die soon.”

  “Do these hunters carry water with them?” Shinoni asks. “He needs to drink.”

  Keena approaches Gandar and speaks with him. He takes a skin bag from around his waist and tips it upside down before handing it to her.

  Keena gives the bag to Shinoni. “They collect water in this, but it’s empty. He says you can fill it.”

  “Me? I’d be dead before I ventured very far.”

  “He says you caused his pain, you should get the water. If you’re smart enough to heal him you can find a way.”

  Shinoni takes the skin container and stands at the edge of the rock outcropping. The damp stone presses cold and hard against her back as she stretches her arm into the night, holding the bag open to the lifesaving downpour. Over the sound of the rain, she hears rustling in the brush nearby. She peers into the darkness. Yellow eyes reflect the flames and move stealthily toward her.

  Shinoni gasps, pulling back into the safety of the overhang, the circle of hunters watching her every move. She shakily places the bag on the ground, careful not to spill the precious liquid. She rummages in her pouch for remnants of the fever plants, then mashes them and scrapes them into the water. The fire crackles as she props the bag near the edge of the flames with a stick.

  Gandar and the other hunters move closer, muttering among themselves. As the brew heats up and begins to simmer, a pungent odour like rotting earth rises from it. Shinoni uses her stick to move the bag away from the flames, holding her breath, willing the brew not to spill. She places her fingertip in the water to test the heat and inhales the rich aroma of the herbs, as she’s seen Reza do. She cups the bag in her hands, wincing from the heat. Her singsong chant swirls in the overhang as she stands and heads toward the injured Krag.

  One hunter snarls and lunges to stop her, but Gandar pulls him back. He nods at Shinoni and leans forward to watch her.

  She cradles the hunter’s head in her lap. Sweat beads glisten on his face as he struggles to breathe. He’s young — maybe on his first hunt. She holds the potion to his lips. He sips and coughs, th
en sips some more as she chants softly.

  As Shinoni tends to the injured hunter, Keena sits by the fire and watches the rowdy and arrogant Kula girl gently comfort and care for this young hunter. She imagines how it would feel if it were Kreel lying there. It would be nice to know how to heal.

  Shinoni looks up and meets Keena’s eyes. Keena moves beside her. “Your grandmother taught you well.”

  “Yes, but she made me work hard.” A tear slips down Shinoni’s cheek. “I wish I had a lion or bear claw to help this hunter,” Shinoni whispers.

  “Why, Kula? How would that help?” Keena’s breath catches in her throat.

  “I’d ask the spirit of the lion to enter him and make his spirit strong enough to fight the laugh devil spirit that’s killing him.” Shinoni glances over her shoulder at the hunters moving restlessly behind them.

  Keena places a hand on Shinoni’s shoulder and fumbles under her own fur cape. She withdraws the hide-wrapped, bloodstained packet and unwraps the lion claw her mother gave her for protection. She hesitates as she sees Ubra’s face and hears her plea that Keena keep the claw close to her body. Keena knows the risks her mother took to keep her safe. She smiles sadly, then hands the claw to Shinoni.

  “How did you come by this?” Shinoni murmurs as she fondles the deadly curve of the giant claw. It glints ominously in the firelight. Without waiting for Keena’s answer, she stands up and circles the claw several times over the injured Krag’s head, chest, and leg.

  “Heee-hiiiya hee-haaa.” She chants vigorously, then lays the claw on the hunter’s chest and sits by Keena.

  Gandar and the other hunters come over to look at their wounded companion, who is now sleeping with the claw gleaming on his fur-covered chest. They shake their heads and move into the shadows to sleep. Gander lingers by his brother’s side before rejoining the others.