Death in the Time of Ice (25 page)

What had he been doing? Had he hoped to understand the thought-speak of Hama? Had he just wanted to be near her? Hama had favored him for a while, but didn’t seem to anymore, since he had given her the large carving of Aja Hama.

She realized he had not smelled her. So he couldn’t understand thought-speak and he couldn’t smell. How did Tall Ones survive? Maybe the rest of them could do these things.

Enga waited a long time to make sure Stitcher didn’t return, then crept to the place he had stood. She was surprised to find that Cabat and Panan were there with Hama.

Is it not beautiful?
thought-spoke Hama.

Did Enga dare touch her mind to see what she referred to? She didn’t have to. Cabat and Panan both filled their minds with it and sent thoughts to each other.

It is as good as the one he did of Aja Hama,
agreed Cabat.

Yes, and bigger.
Hama giggled.
It is better looking than that one.

Enga saw, in their minds, a carving Stitcher must have made. It was of Hama and was, indeed, a bit larger than the last one. Hama sent out affection for Stitcher now.
He is such an asset to the tribe. And it is so good to have the twins gone. Our luck will change now.

I am not certain you should have expelled them,
thought-spoke Cabat.

You agreed with me.
Hama shot coldness toward Cabat.

I did. But I am not sure now that I should have.

Then Enga noticed something odd. Panan and Cabat were sending thoughts back and forth but Panan was refusing to communicate with Hama. In shielding his thought from her, it bounced more readily to Enga. It shocked her that Panan was searching the Sagas in his mind for a time when a Hama was deposed. His thoughts reached Cabat and Cabat told him to quit doing that.

There is a mission we must do,
thought-spoke Hama.
I must make certain the twins do not come back. We must send scouts to see where they went.

Both males answered
No!

Yes! They must not be allowed to live. We must make sure they are dead. The tribe must do as I wish!

Snowflakes started to drift down. Enga knew she had better leave now. If she stayed she might leave tracks and it would be obvious she had been there. The cold masked her scent, at least. She rose to her feet.

What is that?
Hama sent out thought-probes. Enga stood as still as a rock and resisted with all her might, her eyes squeezed tight. Her whole body vibrated, threatening to betray her.
Someone is outside.

There is no one there,
answered Cabat.
It is late. I will not discuss that last idea with you. It will not happen. I am going to leave and go to sleep. Come, Panan.

Enga didn’t think Hama was convinced, but sprinted into the woods as quietly as she could. She would hide during dark time and leave at first sun. How would she ever find out the truth?

Chapter 21

…(An) indicator of strong social ties and social complexity is the survival of individuals with severe, sometimes crippling injuries; an individual’s value was not solely based on his or her ability to obtain food or carry out physical work effectively.

—
The Neandertals
, Erik Trinkaus and Pat Shipman, p. 418

Sannum Straight Hair could not sleep. Enga Dancing Flower and Ung Strong Arm had been banished three suns ago. The more he dwelt on it, the more he was sure Enga had been telling the truth. She would not defile the Holy Cave. And he knew she had not slain the Aja Hama. Enga could never do a thing like that.

He was brought back to the night he and two other young males rescued Enga and her twin.

It was the time of the nightly gathering and the community was sharing their last meal of the day. That night they chewed on roasted peccary meat. Sannum Straight Hair remembered thinking the pig was especially fat and succulent. He had grinned at the taste and surveyed his fellow tribe members, crouched around the fire in a half circle, pig fat glistening on most of their faces. How he would love to have some of that fat pig now!

Their leader at that time was the mother of the now Aja Hama. Sannum thought her still a handsome woman even if she had lived forty-two summers. Her long gray hair hung in two plaits down her back, which was straight and proud. She stood and cocked her head at a distant sound.

She made a sharp hand motion and the singing and eating and commotion stopped. Silence fell. Then Sannum heard the sound too, the cry of a small creature.
A child?
he wondered.

Hama picked out Sannum and two other robust males, focusing on each of them with her dark, wide-set eyes. The trio rose and left the warmth of the fire to search for the origin of the sounds, understanding their mission from the thoughts she sent them. They were to see if a small creature was in distress or trapped. If it turned out to be a young peccary they would stab it and bring it back to eat. If it were larger, they would call the females to throw their spears. Or, if it were not an animal, they would rescue it.

Kokat No Ear tucked his piece of meat into the rabbit-skin pouch at his waist and drew his cloak of coarse mammoth fur tight around his shoulders. Sannum led the way through the dark woods surrounding the village, half wishing he were still at the dancing fire eating the roast peccary. Kokat, giving nervous glances around him, followed very closely behind Sannum. Mahk Long Eye, a male in his early twenties, named for his excellent eyesight, trailed behind.

When Kokat trod on his heel, Sannum turned, grasped his shoulders, and thought-spoke to him.
Do not fear, Kokat No Ear. It is dark time and many dangerous animals roam now, this is true, but we are three. We will be safe. Whatever cries out here may need us.

Kokat swallowed and bowed his head. Sannum and Mahk heard his thoughts of shame that he, Kokat, had thought of himself and not whatever small creature they were after to kill or rescue.

Sannum silently urged them to be attentive. They could, he reminded them, smell if the source of the sound was animal or not. He was beginning to think it was not an animal at all. The wind was not in their favor, though.

The small mewlings rose and fell on the wind as the males peered into the shadowy swaying ferns and willow bushes and lifted spruce branches that reached to the dark forest floor.

Eventually, after the village was well out of sight, Sannum almost stumbled over them. He heard the incredulous thought-speak of Kokat behind him.
Are they children? Alone at night in the forest?

Sannum nodded, then stooped to assess their condition. A shaft of light from Brother Moon shot through the spruce branches and rested on two very young females, naked, cold, and very frightened. They could not be more than three summers old, maybe less. They looked the same age, twins. They sat in the fragrant needles, clutching each other’s small hands and staring defiantly at the three large males who bent toward them.

We must be careful and not frighten them further,
Sannum thought-spoke to his two companions.
Do you think they have been abandoned by their tribe?

Our own tribe would never do that,
shot back Mahk.
The Hamapa do not abandon children. Do you think another tribe would?

We do not know the ways of all tribes,
answered Sannum.
But we must help them. We can carry these little ones to the warm fire where they can get food and drink.

Kokat smiled at the girls and knelt down to their level. But when he reached for them, one recoiled and screamed at the sight of his scarred face. Kokat jumped up and backed away.

Sannum tried next. The one who screamed seemed fascinated with his shiny dark locks, looking almost black in the darkness and worn loose tonight, falling like raven’s wings beside his face. She quieted her screeching and reached for his hair, then pulled at his wispy beard.

A low growl sounded, close by. The three males froze. They caught the scent of a cat. A large cat with the long, curved tusks.

Mahk Long Eye spotted the gleam of yellow eyes in the moonlight. The cat crouched in the willow bushes at a good distance behind the infants, perfectly still. Mahk sent its location to Sannum Straight Hair and Kokat No Ear.

Sannum slowly reached his arms around the small, shivering girls, careful not to look in the cat’s direction. Smoothly, carefully, he straightened up with a child in each arm, his chest thumping loudly in his ears.

Meanwhile, Kokat reached into the pouch slung around his waist and pulled out a piece of meat, the roast peccary he had been eating when Hama summoned him on this mission. Step by deliberate step, he drew forward with the meat as Sannum drew backward with the babies. When Sannum was back far enough he handed them to Mahk, who turned and fled with them in his arms.

After Mahk sent a mental signal to Kokat that the children were well on their way down the trail, Kokat flung the meat into the willow bush and he and Sannum backed away from the cat. They heard the cat chewing and ripping the meat.

Sannum breathed out his relief and turned to Kokat.
Now the animal is occupied and the girls are safe,
Sannum thought-spoke.
We can return.

I am glad I had the meat with me. It’s not a very big piece. We’d better get out of here before the cat finishes it.

They had only gone a few steps, Kokat in the lead, when Kokat turned his head to check on the cat. His eyes shouted out his fear. Sannum sensed the leap of the cat. Kokat whirled toward them, drawing his flint knife from his pouch.

Sannum felt the claws bite into his back and fell to the ground with the attack to try and lessen its impact. As they hit the ground, the claws loosened and Sannum rolled, attempting to draw his knife. It stuck in his pouch. The animal came after him.

Kokat jumped on its back and stabbed it in the neck. The beast shook his head and fastened his great teeth on Kokat’s leg. He cried out, then brought his blade down again and again on the top of the cat’s head.

By this time Sannum had gotten his knife out and circled the melee, searching for an opening. Kokat managed to land a stab into the ear of the cat. It loosened its grip and raised its head in pain.

Sannum sprang and stabbed at its eye. For a moment its horrible fangs came toward him, grazed his arm. Then its essence, the Red of the beast, spattered Sannum and flowed down onto Kokat, still beneath it. The cat howled in rage, sprang away, and limped off into the dark.

It took a long time for their breathing to return to normal. Sannum knelt over Kokat and examined his wound. Taking his own cloak in his teeth, he bit off a strip and bound it around the gash. He helped his wounded tribe mate to his feet and Kokat found that he could hobble if he put an arm around Sannum’s sturdy shoulder. They returned to the settlement.

By the time they drew near, the tribe was cooing and murmuring softly over the two infants who sat in Jansa Wild Wind’s lap.

Nanno Green Eyes, Jansa’s birth sister, however, was waiting tensely, pacing, having sensed her mate, Kokat’s, pain. She cried out and ran to them. Sannum helped Kokat to the group, then set him down. Nanno wailed at the sight of her mate’s injured leg and tore at her garments.

When Sannum straightened up, however, he could tell they saw the claw marks on his own back. Jansa sent thoughts of empathy to him and to his mate, who ran to him and started inspecting his injuries.

The Healer did her best for Kokat, tending and binding his wound. It hurt too much for him to put weight on it, but the Healer thought he would be able to walk when it healed.

While the Healer treated his back, Sannum joked about Kokat being tastier to this cat than himself, but Kokat’s mate kept a frown on her face.

When she finished tending the two males, the Healer brought two brown bearskins from her dwelling to wrap the girls in. Jansa Wild Wind requested to have them in her dwelling that first night and the Hama granted Jansa that permission.

Look.
Hama directed a thought to the whole group.
The children come with flowers.
Her thought was colored with surprise. Sannum looked at the hands of the babies.

One clutched a red flower in her chubby fist and the other a yellow one. Sannum marveled that the flowers were blooming this late. The one with the red flower stood up and shoved her flower at Hama, uttering a word, “Ung.”

Nanno snickered. But when the tribe burst into laughter, the child burst into tears of embarrassment. Jansa grabbed her up and cradled her until her sobs quieted. Jansa directed a stern look and a disapproving thought to her birth sister for upsetting the children.

Do not be so serious
, Nanno thought-spoke to Jansa.
These are just two stray creatures. We don’t need to keep them. Besides, they appear to be twins. Twins are bad luck. They will bring hardship to the tribe.

Thoughts flew:
We are Hamapa, not savages. When did we ever turn away orphans? How can you think like that, Nanno Green Eyes? There is no reason to turn them away, just because they are twins. Where did you get such an idea?

Sannum was grateful the tribe uniformly objected to Nanno’s opinion. He already liked them.

Hama quieted them.
We will shelter these two. It is our way.
She shot a stab of disapproval at Nanno Green Eyes, who lowered her head, but retained a stubborn set to her shoulders.