Clan of Wolves Read online

  ‘No!’

  Narn grabbed the man’s arm, stopping his throw, as Kaija rushed forward. Tarin and Luuka made a barrier between the man and the pup, but it was Yorv who reached Rohk first. He dived for the wolf and grabbed him in his arms. He staggered to his feet and presented the squirming, snarling bundle to the man.

  he murmured softly as he patted the wolf’s raised hackles. Rohk whimpered and twisted in Yorv’s arms. Then he yelped and reached a warm, wet tongue to lick Yorv on the face.

  Worj and Iva stared in amazement. Yorv scratched the pup behind the ears and Rohk bared his teeth in an ecstatic smile. Yorv repeated.

  Worj stared hard at them, then reached forward for the pup. He picked Rohk up by the scruff of his neck and held him out, examining him. With a snort, the pup sneezed, making Worj jump. He growled at the pup and shook him gently, but Rohk was unrepentant. He reached forward and licked the tip of Worj’s nose.

  Ruva shouted and hurried forward. She took the pup from the stunned man and set it on the ground. She hugged Worj roughly. ‘This my son,’ she told Tarin, Luuka and Kaija. ‘Not first son. First son die. And second son. Daughter, hah!’ She waved away the importance of her surviving daughter. ‘This third son. Birth very hard. He strong.’ She gripped Worj’s arm and squeezed. ‘Good strong son.’

  She nodded hello to Iva, who had been joined by his hearth-mate, Vana, and her son, Zuuv. Then she noticed Aba.

  ‘You, girl.’ She waved her hands, motioning Aba to come closer. The girl looked scared and unsure what to do. Ruva spoke in her own language, and the girl took a step nearer. Ruva held up the girl’s light brown hair and poked her in the stomach.

  said Aba, although her voice wavered. She glanced towards Kaija, her eyes widening. Ruva made her open her mouth, then beckoned to Kaija.

  ‘Good teeth. See?’

  ‘Um, I see . . .’ murmured Kaija, glancing quickly in the girl’s mouth. Their eyes met and Kaija smiled in encouragement.

  the girl asked, puzzled.

  Kaija shook her head.

  Aba nodded her head.

  Kaija moved away as the rest of the clan came forward to welcome Aba. She scooped Rohk up and gave him a playful smack.

  ‘And don’t think I’ve forgotten how naughty you were.’

  Rohk sighed happily and curled into a ball close to her chest. Within moments, the wolf pup was asleep.

  The rhythmic pounding of the heavy wooden spears reminded Tarin of the mammoth bone drums of home. The throbbing sound grew louder, then quietened to a subdued murmur as each man of the clan stepped forward and laid a token in a circle around the communal fire. Iva, as second-leader, went first. He carried the shoulder bone of a reindeer, and he laid it reverently before the assembled clan. Next, Nord placed the horn of a mighty bison. Roba and Yeb stepped forward with the skull of a roe deer and the claws of a cave lion. Lorv, as eldest male, placed some soft brown fur taken from a mighty cave bear. Narn and Yorv stepped forward with two leg bones from a saiga antelope. Lastly, Worj placed the large knee bone of an aurochs to complete the circle.

  The clan murmured in appreciation. The pounding of the spears grew louder once more, and then Tarin heard a sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck quiver. It sounded as though the spirits themselves were singing.

  Shadows danced on the rock walls, distorted by the flickering firelight. Tarin turned his head, searching for the sound. He felt Kaija touch his arm and turned to where she was looking. Lorv stood on a high rock at the back of the cave. He was stripped to his waist, and black markings covered his chest and face. He held a thin hollow bone to his lips and blew. From the bone came the unearthly sound.

  It soared upwards, toward the vaulting roof of the cave. Then it plummeted low and mysterious, taking Tarin into the earth itself. It spoke to him of great journeys and brave hunts. And it reminded him of the warmth and safety of the hearth fires. Outside, it was snowing. Spirit of Ice was covering the land in a blanket of white, forcing the Earth Mother to sleep. In Spring, it would be the turn of the Earth Mother to force the ice and the snow and the bitter winds back, but for now, She slept and a great coldness embraced Her children.

  Tarin heard all this in the song of the bone flute.

  Lorv stopped, and the final note faded away into the darkness. There was a brief pause, as though the clan took a collective breath.

  ‘That was . . . beautiful.’ Kaija sighed.

  Then the spears started again, pounding against the earth floor. Yorv and Yeb jumped up and started to dance. The tempo increased, sending them spinning around the circle. Two of the children, Mohv and Zuuv, joined in, copying the movements of the older boys as they told a tale of hunting and bravery.

  They may not speak the same words, Tarin thought, but the hunt was something they could all understand – all the people that lived in these ages of stone and ice relied on the hunt to survive.

  With movements and expressions and sound, the dancers created a vision for the watching clan. They transported them to the wide plains, let them feel the sun beating down and let them taste the dust. The clan could almost hear the thundering herds and see the bison, the aurochs, the deer. They felt the blood quicken in their veins as the chase began. The exhaustion of the hunters belonged to the clan. The urgency, the fear and, finally, the jubilation as the spear plunged into the animal, bringing it to its knees. All this, the clan experienced.

  ‘Boy! You!’ Ruva pulled Tarin to his feet and pushed him into the circle of dancers.

  ‘What? No! I can’t dance . . .’ But Tarin’s words were drowned in the thunder of the spears. Luuka and Kaija laughed and clapped, until they, too, were pulled into the dance.

  Kaija held her hand out to Eeli, a sturdy child of four Summers, who was sitting with her mother watching the dance with large brown eyes. At first, she shook her head shyly, but then as Kaija passed her again, she jumped up and clasped hold of Kaija’s hand.

  Even Rohk and Nilkka decided to join in, and they ran around the circle, yelping and jumping, until a sharp nip drew blood and Rohk was banished to a corner with a large meat bone.

  The dancers collapsed to the floor, sweating and laughing.

  ‘Now, food.’ Uva smiled at them, and Worj’s Welcome Home feast began.

  Tarin and Luuka took their food and settled next to Lorv.

  Luuka said slowly.

  Lorv smiled. Of all the clan, he struggled the most to speak their language. He reminded Tarin of old Eero, who also loved music and often joined the Mammoth Clan drummers, pounding the rhythms into the ground with his walking stick. Tarin swallowed a lump of food that caught in his throat. He hoped the old man would survive the Winter.

  Lorv passed the flute to Luuka, who took it carefully in his hands and turned it over. Lorv pushed the flute closer to Luuka’s lips.

  Luuka’s eyes shone, his plate of food forgotten.

  He put the flute to his lips and then blew gently. A soft, whispering sound issued and he smiled widely at the old man who was nodding and laughing at him. He tried again, blowing harder, and this time the sound he made was closer to the beautiful sounds Lorv had drawn from the bone. Luuka laughed and passed the flute to Tarin.

  Tarin turned the flute in his hands and pointed to tiny holes drilled into the bone.

  Lorv took the flute and blew again, placing his fingers over one or more of the holes. When he changed his fingers, the sound changed. He passed it back to them.

  The boys studied the flute in awe, then Luuka reverently handed it back to Lorv.

  Luuka said.

  The stew pot was nearly empty, so the side bowls of dried currants and hazelnuts were passed around, and the clan sat back against the rocks and enjoyed the play of the firelight on the walls of th
e cave.

  Worj cleared his throat and silence fell. Now was the time to talk. To hear about Worj’s meeting, and to retell the story of Yorv and Narn rescuing the People of the Wolf. It was how Worj’s Clan referred to their visitors, and it suited them well.

  Worj spoke in his own words, but Luuka understood enough to translate for Tarin and Kaija. He leaned close to them and whispered.

  ‘The situation with Boar Clan is bad. When they had to use their boats to cross the river, only four or five hunters could land at once. But now, many are crossing.’

  Worj was interested in Tarin’s report of the tree bridge. He listened carefully as Luuka told the tale of their capture by Boar Clan and even though most of the clan had heard the story before, they still thrilled to the tale of their escape. It was decided that Iva would return to Yoben’s clan and together they would investigate the tree.

  ‘But the tree is very large,’ said Tarin. ‘I don’t think you can move it.’

  Worj nodded. ‘Spring rains bring much water to river. Maybe we not need move tree. Maybe Spirit of River move tree for us.’

  Tarin let his attention wander as the discussions turned to matters he had no knowledge of and people he didn’t know. He passed a bowl of hazelnuts to Kaija, and noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes.

  ‘Is your shoulder hurting?’

  ‘A little.’ She glanced quickly at Luuka, but he was engrossed in a discussion with Lorv. ‘Probably still talking music,’ she said with a smile.

  People were yawning and drifting away from the meeting. Children huddled sleeping together in a pile, Rohk and Nilkka curled up with them. Rohk opened one sleepy eye as Kaija stood and stretched.

  ‘I’ll make you some tea?’ Tarin asked, but Kaija shook her head.

  ‘I have some back at Ruva’s fire. I’ll drink it before I sleep.’

  Tarin didn’t feel like sleeping yet, so he joined the others around the main fire. Yorv handed him a deerskin of strong-tasting liquid. It made Tarin cough and he felt as though his throat was on fire as he swallowed the brew. Yorv laughed, and even Worj smiled.

  ‘We plan hunt. Before First Light we go,’ said Yorv. ‘See?’ He drew Tarin’s attention to figures scratched in the dirt. ‘Worj say they see bison. Maybe this many.’ He traced over the marks. ‘You help?’

  Tarin’s heart fell. He wanted to help with the hunt, more than anything. Counting the children, and now Aba, Worj’s Clan numbered twenty. Tarin knew three extra mouths to feed, five counting the wolf pups, was going to be hard, especially coming into Winter. Anything he could do to help – he would. But . . . hunt? How could he?

  ‘My leg . . . not strong.’ He bit his lip and looked down at the ground, so he wouldn’t see the growing contempt in their eyes.

  ‘No need run,’ said Yorv. ‘Yorv strong. Narn and Yeb strong. We run. Yarin and Luuja hold fire. No run.’

  Tarin’s head snapped up. ‘I can still help?’

  ‘Help. Hold fire. Stop bison run this way.’ Yorv smiled and nodded. He pointed at the young men. ‘We run. Worj and Iva and Roba use spear. Kill bison.’ He made a jabbing movement with his hand, and Tarin remembered the dance – how the dancers showed the hunters running with their prey until they were exhausted, and then plunging the heavy wooden spear into the beast. While the Mammutti hunters stood back and hurled their spears from a distance, the hunters of Worj’s Clan used them in a stabbing motion, to kill at close range. It was dangerous, but effective.

  But how could they hunt bison that way? It must take a lot of courage. Tarin shivered, remembering Ristak’s death on the horns of an enraged bison.

  Spirit of Bison defeats Spirit of Deer . . .

  That’s what Old Mother had said when Ristak died. Tarin looked around the fire and wondered if Worj’s Clan had totem protectors. They talked about Spirit of River and Spirit of Snow, but he hadn’t heard anyone ask their own personal guide for help. Perhaps they didn’t have the animal totems that were so important to the Mammutti? Tarin had recognised them as kindred wolf spirits, but sometimes, he thought, the Spirit chooses us, not the other way around. Wolf may protect them without the clan realising. His glance fell on the tangle of children and wolf pups curled asleep together in a pack and he smiled. Wolf has chosen us all, he thought.

  He clasped his pendant and the familiar feel of the bone soothed him. Plans for the hunt were underway, and he leaned forward to listen.

  Worj raised his bushy eyebrows at the young woman and she nodded.

 

  said the young girl, raising her hand. Narn smiled at her and she smiled back.

  Worj nodded decisively. His gaze moved around the circle of hunters, looking everyone in the eye.

  The hunters nodded.

  ‘Good hunt,’ Tarin whispered. He felt a shiver run down his spine. Tomorrow would be his First Hunt, he realised with a shock. No one else here knew that. He looked around the circle, now broken into smaller groups. Some still discussed the hunt while others were happy to sit back and watch the fire. Ruva snored softly, her head drooping forward where she sat.

  Tarin smiled, feeling warm inside. Excitement and fear pounded through his veins. How many times had he wanted to join the men of Mammoth Clan who sat around his father’s fire? How many times had he asked to join the hunt, always to be told no? He wasn’t strong enough, big enough, fast enough.

  Now was his chance.

  But sitting there, surrounded by hunters who had already faced death so many times, he felt doubts growing.

  What if I’m not strong enough? Or fast enough? What if the hunt fails because of me?

  He shook his head. He wasn’t a child any longer, cowering behind his mother. He had journeyed so far from his home, and he had survived so much. Now, he was ready to hunt.

  Owl will help me, he thought. He clasped his pendant and sent a plea to Owl to help him be brave.

  And if I never hunt again, I will have this one memory of when I was a hunter. A hunter of Worj’s clan.

  They left before dawn.

  Worj led the group at a fast pace through the foothills. He wanted to reach the open steppes before the sun rose too high in the sky. Tarin clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t let the ache in his leg stop him.

  Spirit of Owl, help me, he murmured. Help me be strong.

  Crisp snow crunched beneath his feet and glistened in the moonlight. Shadows danced. An owl hooted. He shivered and pulled his hood further over his head.

  Like all the hunters, Tarin had eaten nothing that morning so he could run light and fast, but Ruva had made him drink a pain-relieving tea. The effects still fizzed through his blood, along with the excitement of being on his first hunt. It helped him keep a good pace, but still he was the last one in line. Even Aba was faster than he was.

  The group numbered eleven. Worj led the way, followed by Iva and his hearth-mate, Vana. Then came Roba, Druba and Yeb with the sledges. Yorv and Luuka jogged next in line, and Narn, Aba and Tarin brought up the rear.

  Dawn broke slowly, and Worj called a break. Some of the hunters stretched their muscles. Others made practice lunges with their spears. Tarin hunched on the ground, determined not to make eye contact with the leader. He knew Worj had slowed the pace so Tarin could keep up. He had felt the leader’s eyes on him several times, assessing his strength.

  Please don’t send me back. Please don’t send me back. Tarin repeated the words over and over and gripped his pendant.

  ‘Boy! Yarin!’ Worj called. Tarin swallowed his bitter disappointment and rose to his feet. ‘Take my spear. Worj run fast. See bison.’

  Surprise made Tarin look up into Worj’s eyes, but he couldn’t read expression.

  ‘No spear – Worj run faster,’ the man said. Tarin nodded and expelled the breath of air he had been holding. Roba stepped forward to take the spear. He and Yorv had carried the extra spears all the way from the cave. He spoke to
Worj and glared at Tarin, but Worj shook his head and held the spear toward Tarin. Tarin’s hand closed around the spear. It felt rougher and thicker than the Mammoth Clan spears and the tip was fire-blackened. Roba made a sound low in his throat as Tarin rejoined the line of hunters.

  The group continued on, but slower this time. Tarin found he could use the spear to help him over the uneven ground. It gave him a feeling of freedom and security. And it gave him time to think of Roba. He didn’t understand why he seemed angry.

  ‘Roba doesn’t want us here.’ Luuka’s voice was low, his eyes on the young man running ahead with Worj.

  Tarin’s chest heaved, and the cold air burned his lungs. ‘But why? More hunters are better.’

  Luuka narrowed his eyes. ‘I think he is scared of us.’ But he spoke so low, Tarin wasn’t sure he had heard. They were leaving the hills and the forest behind, and his excitement grew. He drew ahead of Luuka, eager now to reach the plains.

  Iva ran ahead to Worj, and soon they returned with news that the bison were closer than expected. The hunters were downwind of them, but they moved carefully now, so as not to disturb the herd. Worj thought it was a herd that had already been hunted, because they were small and restless and the lead bull kept them close together.

  The hunters paused at the top of a ridge, hidden by a rocky outcrop and clumps of grey sagebrush. The waving golden grasses had dried to hay, and already snow drifts covered much of the ground. It reminded Tarin of the plains around his home and a lump stuck in his throat. He raised his head and sniffed the wind. It even smelled like home. The frigid wind whipped his hair into a tangle and stung his eyes.

  ‘Look!’ Luuka nudged him and pointed toward the north.

  A dark mass was moving slowly through the grasses, leaving a trail of trampled mud and snow. Its sweaty, animal smell was heavy on the air.

  Worj motioned his hunters into place. Like shadows, they crept forward, silent and alert, in small groups or alone, melting into the grass and stands of stubby, wind-stunted trees.